Summer in the City

Hot enough for you, lately? Well, you know what I always say, “Spring has sprung, and fall has fell, now it’s summer and it’s hotter than heck!” Bet you thought I was gonna say the other “H” word, you know, H E double hockey sticks… Hell no, why would I do that? …Oops!

Anyway, it’s so hot around here lately that the cows are giving evaporated milk, the chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs, the trees are whistling for the dogs and Satan decided to take the day off. So, I was down the hill the other day to buy gas for the Mottmobile because it’s about 50 cents cheaper at the Valero on Waterman, and it was 109 degrees. Now, that’s what you call a Hot Town!

Hot town, summer in the city, back of my neck getting dirty and gritty. Been down, isn’t it a pity, doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city. All around, people looking half dead, walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head. But at night it’s a different world, go out and find a girl. Come on and dance all night, despite the heat it’ll be alright. (“Summer in the City” – The Lovin’ Spoonful – 1966)

I guess I don’t have to tell you that you need to watch your back in San Berdoo. After all, it is ranked # 7 on the list of the most dangerous cities in California, right behind West Hollywood at # 6. Most dangerous is Emeryville in the Bay Area. I’ll have to give San Berdoo credit, though; a few years back it was # 2, right behind Stockton. Nonetheless, you’d best watch your back, especially after dark.

Another problem with the hot weather is the ants – they just love to come inside where it’s cooler, not to mention all that yummy food in your pantry like, for instance, Honey Smacks. You might say I really dig ‘em. I’ll tell ya one thing for sure, when they got into my Honey Smacks, that was the last straw, so I loaded up with Raid and Black Flag ant spray and sprayed all around the kitchen cupboards and around the outside of the house and spread some of those little poison pellets around the exterior of Motley Manor. That kept the little buggers at bay for a week or two, but then they came marching back again during the next hot spell.

The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah. The ants go marching one by one, the little one stops to suck his thumb. The ants go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. The little one stops to tie his shoe and they all go marching down to the ground to get out of the rain, Boom, boom, boom! (The Ants Go Marching – Traditional children’s song)

But the ants marched back again and got into my frosted Mini-Wheats. Guess I’m gonna have to call Burkitt’s Bugs and have them send Kroft out to annihilate them, once and for all.

Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott