A sultry hello and welcome to the weekend, Dear Readers.
I'm sure you've heard (and are quite possibly experiencing) that it's hot. Triple digit hot.
The kind of hot that, when walked into from an air conditioned interior, grabs you and shakes you and has you saying, "So. This is what it feels like to be a firecracker."
The kind of hot that has you remembering the sleepovers of your thirteen year old self, when nothing could possibly have been more mortifying than having someone freeze your bra. Now you're thinking it sounds like a brilliant idea.
The kind of hot in which you would (or perhaps should) definitely think twice about attending an outdoor, three-day music festival. But not me. I thought once. I've been going since year one, and tradition is tradition.
Hot hot heat or not.
Now, you're probably all like "But wait- you hate heat!" Which I do.
So here's my plan: daytime performances, you know, the ones that take place under a blazing sun, those will be enjoyed over the radio, from the comfort of an air conditioned home or a pool. That's not to say I wouldn't really like to experience some of those in person, but, you know.
Mercifully, the big guns have all been saved to be enjoyed under cover of night. Which is when I will venture out, dressed in shorts and carrying a cooler filled with frozen water. Eighty five degrees at nine pm is certainly acceptable if I get to see Emmylou Harris!
How about you, Dear Readers? How are you spending this melty weekend? And how do you stay cool?
Be safe and hydrated, my friends!