Blog Dis
A case in support of lethargy
2024-05-14
Living without an air conditioner requires an emotional commitment to help lessen the use of energy. We hear it all the time from science environmentalists that the gross consumption of energy, natural resources and the unabated plundering of fossil fuels will surely bring about the downfall of the human race. Well, perhaps not the entire downfall. I'm sure there'll be some wily humans left on this planet, after we've completely destroyed our eco-system, and these humans will survive and thrive, even if they end up having three noses and four eyes from radiation poisoning. But as the temperature crawls upward, like it does every summer in the city where I live, touching at times the 40+ degree Celsius mark, the justification for purchasing air conditioning is easy to make.
Not so fast there, hot-pants. Unless you're a baby or you're tipping the scales of the age meter and close to your seventies or well beyond, you can easily cope with the heat in a number of ways. First, fill up your bathtub with ice cold water and soak your head in it, then lie your entire body in said cold water until your nipples turn hard and within minutes, your body will cool off. This is one method I've used when the heat becomes unbearable. Admittedly, I'm a Winter baby, which is to say I was born in the blustery month of March, not quite caught in the grips of winter's thrall but neither quite out of it. I've always had a penchant for the cold as it has for me. People bitch and complain that it's too cold for this and too cold for that but I press on, walking everywhere in frigid temps, to include skating on Ottawa's canal. I feel alive in the cold. I love the crisp pinch of the cold in my lungs as I breathe in the air. I love too the brightness of cold days because the sun shines more in winter, and reflects off the snow, making everything a tad brighter. It's the bloody heat that kills me. I turn into a lethargic blob who can barely manage to make it to the freezer, at which point I'll open the door and stick my head in it for a few seconds, literally.
I also guzzle water like a woman emerging out of the desert. Obviously, the heat isn't for everyone, any more than the cold is for everyone. When I moved residences back in 2015, I specifically hunted for an apartment that faced North to avoid direct sunlight. And after looking at 15+ units, I ended up finding just the right one which faces North, so my place doesn't cook during the day, and because it faces a row of high condo towers, the sun bounces off the metals used in the construction of these towers, sending blinding beams into my unit, making it so bright on some mornings that I can't see without squinting. I'm fond of having a bright unit, because the opposite, to have a dark and dreary unit would depress me.
And then there's the heat of summer; what we call a blast of a heat-wave. I see the many crazies out on the Canal path running in the heat and haze of pollution and I can't help wondering if their brains are slowly being cooked. We hear about deaths from heat stroke all the time, every summer, but still runners persist. I tried cycling one time when the temperature rose above 35+ Celsius and I thought I was going to pass out later in the evening. I stayed on the couch with a bowl of ice water on the floor, continuously soaking the cloth to place it on my forehead. Whew! That was a close call. The heat literally cooks your blood. 35 Celsius is 95 Fahrenheit, then add in the humidity, given that Ottawa is a valley, and the temps can easily crawl up to 40 degrees in no time, i.e. 104 F.
If you spend enough time in a hot climate, your blood will thin out, and your body will eventually adjust. I've traveled into the Middle East more than once, and during my hiking adventure in Jordan, in the Wadi Rum desert, I hiked for four days in soft sand in 50 Celsius temps wearing hiking boots, moisture-wicking socks, full length cargo pants, half-sleeves, a scarf around my neck to capture the sweat, to include a hat to protect my head from the blazing sun. We rose each day @ 6 AM and hiked until Noon, then got out of the sun until 3 pm, as the temps were at their hottest, 56+ C. to resume hiking until 6 pm, until we arrived at our camp site (the desert sand; there's lots of it) and our Bedouin guide (Attila and his colleague would search the area for poisonous snakes and scorpions, before setting up the fire pit to cook our food; we slept on top of our sleeping bags outside under the stars). And despite the temps being steamy, we were all passed out at 7 PM from having hiked all day.
People are quick to say, "Oh! But it's a dry heat, so it's really not that hot." Balderdash! That dry heat will suck every last drop of moisture out of your body, so that your thirst feels like it never goes away. If ever you find yourself on such an adventure, I recommend you wrap a fleece jacket around your bottle of cold water to insulate it from the heat, and carry it in your backpack, so that when you take a sip, the water will taste cool, rather than as hot as the sun. This was the trick I used and I've never tasted better water in my life. I drank upwards of three litres each day during our hike. And now when I cycle in summer, I'll get up early in the morning, in order to get out to cycle, before the work day starts. Because when the temps inch up past 33 Celsius, I'll refrain from cycling to avoid cooking my body. And after each cycle, I'll hop into an ice-cold shower to cool my body. One quickie cold shower in the morning, followed by another cold shower after my cycle, and one last cold shower before bed. This is the summer routine for persons like myself who refuse to buy an air conditioner at home. A small tower fan by comparison will use on average between 40W-75W of electricity vs air conditioning which will gobble up between 900W-3000W of electricity.
If you live in Canada, you learn to love the change in seasons; the free-wheeling summer, the colours of fall, the crisp bright winters, followed by the melting of Spring, when everyone is inching to launch summer. I feel as though I've made peace with the heat, as I did with the extreme cold years ago when I was a kid. And I haven't changed my stance on air conditioning. It's enough that I have to work in air conditioning that I don't want to chug away on energy consumption when I'm at home. Truly, I believe people won't be happy until they burn up the whole planet. New homes are built with central air conditioning, so that if you and your family spend most of your time in the kitchen and family room, every room is cool, despite no one using it. What a waste!
But then back in the days prior to the turn of the Century, I worked in buildings that had actual bona-fide windows that opened to the outside, to allow a fresh breeze to come in. Not now, however. Every building going up in the 21st Century, is constructed without windows that open to the outside, and this includes hotels too and it's a shame. We not only rely on our air conditioning, but we no longer encourage people to learn how to cope with the heat, or to work without air conditioning.
The world keeps on with artificial air cooling while the world keeps on heating up. And if you're wondering, my hike through Jordan's Wadi Rum desert was a remarkable experience. One morning I woke up with a scorpion to my right. Our tour leader nearly had a heart attack, stressing that if I had been bitten, I'd be in the hospital for minimum one week. So, I'm glad I wasn't bitten. I could have easily rolled over on the scorpion, which was no bigger than my thumb. I never did see poisonous snakes, though I woke up one night at 3 AM and had to make a tinkle; the night sky was glorious, bright enough that you could see tracks of small animals everywhere, which proves that life comes alive at night when you're in the desert, because during the heat of the day, they have the good common sense to stay the hell out of it!
[A picture of me in 2004 after completing the hike in the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan. I look hot, dusty and dry, my body covered in a fine layer of sand, after not being able to bathe for four days... Yet, I'm wearing a smile as wide as the desert!]
Not so fast there, hot-pants. Unless you're a baby or you're tipping the scales of the age meter and close to your seventies or well beyond, you can easily cope with the heat in a number of ways. First, fill up your bathtub with ice cold water and soak your head in it, then lie your entire body in said cold water until your nipples turn hard and within minutes, your body will cool off. This is one method I've used when the heat becomes unbearable. Admittedly, I'm a Winter baby, which is to say I was born in the blustery month of March, not quite caught in the grips of winter's thrall but neither quite out of it. I've always had a penchant for the cold as it has for me. People bitch and complain that it's too cold for this and too cold for that but I press on, walking everywhere in frigid temps, to include skating on Ottawa's canal. I feel alive in the cold. I love the crisp pinch of the cold in my lungs as I breathe in the air. I love too the brightness of cold days because the sun shines more in winter, and reflects off the snow, making everything a tad brighter. It's the bloody heat that kills me. I turn into a lethargic blob who can barely manage to make it to the freezer, at which point I'll open the door and stick my head in it for a few seconds, literally.
I also guzzle water like a woman emerging out of the desert. Obviously, the heat isn't for everyone, any more than the cold is for everyone. When I moved residences back in 2015, I specifically hunted for an apartment that faced North to avoid direct sunlight. And after looking at 15+ units, I ended up finding just the right one which faces North, so my place doesn't cook during the day, and because it faces a row of high condo towers, the sun bounces off the metals used in the construction of these towers, sending blinding beams into my unit, making it so bright on some mornings that I can't see without squinting. I'm fond of having a bright unit, because the opposite, to have a dark and dreary unit would depress me.
And then there's the heat of summer; what we call a blast of a heat-wave. I see the many crazies out on the Canal path running in the heat and haze of pollution and I can't help wondering if their brains are slowly being cooked. We hear about deaths from heat stroke all the time, every summer, but still runners persist. I tried cycling one time when the temperature rose above 35+ Celsius and I thought I was going to pass out later in the evening. I stayed on the couch with a bowl of ice water on the floor, continuously soaking the cloth to place it on my forehead. Whew! That was a close call. The heat literally cooks your blood. 35 Celsius is 95 Fahrenheit, then add in the humidity, given that Ottawa is a valley, and the temps can easily crawl up to 40 degrees in no time, i.e. 104 F.
If you spend enough time in a hot climate, your blood will thin out, and your body will eventually adjust. I've traveled into the Middle East more than once, and during my hiking adventure in Jordan, in the Wadi Rum desert, I hiked for four days in soft sand in 50 Celsius temps wearing hiking boots, moisture-wicking socks, full length cargo pants, half-sleeves, a scarf around my neck to capture the sweat, to include a hat to protect my head from the blazing sun. We rose each day @ 6 AM and hiked until Noon, then got out of the sun until 3 pm, as the temps were at their hottest, 56+ C. to resume hiking until 6 pm, until we arrived at our camp site (the desert sand; there's lots of it) and our Bedouin guide (Attila and his colleague would search the area for poisonous snakes and scorpions, before setting up the fire pit to cook our food; we slept on top of our sleeping bags outside under the stars). And despite the temps being steamy, we were all passed out at 7 PM from having hiked all day.
People are quick to say, "Oh! But it's a dry heat, so it's really not that hot." Balderdash! That dry heat will suck every last drop of moisture out of your body, so that your thirst feels like it never goes away. If ever you find yourself on such an adventure, I recommend you wrap a fleece jacket around your bottle of cold water to insulate it from the heat, and carry it in your backpack, so that when you take a sip, the water will taste cool, rather than as hot as the sun. This was the trick I used and I've never tasted better water in my life. I drank upwards of three litres each day during our hike. And now when I cycle in summer, I'll get up early in the morning, in order to get out to cycle, before the work day starts. Because when the temps inch up past 33 Celsius, I'll refrain from cycling to avoid cooking my body. And after each cycle, I'll hop into an ice-cold shower to cool my body. One quickie cold shower in the morning, followed by another cold shower after my cycle, and one last cold shower before bed. This is the summer routine for persons like myself who refuse to buy an air conditioner at home. A small tower fan by comparison will use on average between 40W-75W of electricity vs air conditioning which will gobble up between 900W-3000W of electricity.
If you live in Canada, you learn to love the change in seasons; the free-wheeling summer, the colours of fall, the crisp bright winters, followed by the melting of Spring, when everyone is inching to launch summer. I feel as though I've made peace with the heat, as I did with the extreme cold years ago when I was a kid. And I haven't changed my stance on air conditioning. It's enough that I have to work in air conditioning that I don't want to chug away on energy consumption when I'm at home. Truly, I believe people won't be happy until they burn up the whole planet. New homes are built with central air conditioning, so that if you and your family spend most of your time in the kitchen and family room, every room is cool, despite no one using it. What a waste!
But then back in the days prior to the turn of the Century, I worked in buildings that had actual bona-fide windows that opened to the outside, to allow a fresh breeze to come in. Not now, however. Every building going up in the 21st Century, is constructed without windows that open to the outside, and this includes hotels too and it's a shame. We not only rely on our air conditioning, but we no longer encourage people to learn how to cope with the heat, or to work without air conditioning.
The world keeps on with artificial air cooling while the world keeps on heating up. And if you're wondering, my hike through Jordan's Wadi Rum desert was a remarkable experience. One morning I woke up with a scorpion to my right. Our tour leader nearly had a heart attack, stressing that if I had been bitten, I'd be in the hospital for minimum one week. So, I'm glad I wasn't bitten. I could have easily rolled over on the scorpion, which was no bigger than my thumb. I never did see poisonous snakes, though I woke up one night at 3 AM and had to make a tinkle; the night sky was glorious, bright enough that you could see tracks of small animals everywhere, which proves that life comes alive at night when you're in the desert, because during the heat of the day, they have the good common sense to stay the hell out of it!
[A picture of me in 2004 after completing the hike in the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan. I look hot, dusty and dry, my body covered in a fine layer of sand, after not being able to bathe for four days... Yet, I'm wearing a smile as wide as the desert!]
