Thursday, July 25, 2013

An Open Letter to the Month of July

Dear July,

I am going to get right to the point and express my disappointment in you. I don't think I ask for much from you, but I have come to expect one thing. That one thing is simple. Just like Ricky Vaughn in the timeless classic Major League, just bring the heat.

It hasn't seemed to have been a problem for you in the past. I have always known July to be hot, with a ridiculous amount of t's. Granted, I grew up in Florida, so all year long, save for two weeks in January, were really hot. But that's beside the point.

I have grown to love July, because it meant never having to convince my wife that the air conditioner should be on and that fresh air is overrated.

You might ask yourself, July, what is causing this disdain to rise up now? I'll tell you. When I, towards the end of April, planned out my summer calendar, I planned a mid-July trip to a water park. It didn't matter which day I picked, or so I thought. Just pick a day in July and the only thing one should have to be concerned about is rain.

But no. No, no, nope.

I took one step outside my home and knew that it would not rain. But I may want to bring a jacket. The last thing one should worry about at a water park is staying warm. And don't expect the water park to sell hot chocolate, because that wasn't happening.

All of this, of course, did not stop a warrior like myself from embracing the challenge. I shivered and teeth-chattered my way to all the slides and thrills this park had to offer. It is only now, as I sit in my home, with open windows, that I have begun to feel warmth again.

This, July, is on you. I expect better from you. Please ignore the fact that I somehow still brought home a sunburn. We both know all I have to do is look outside and I need to put on sunscreen. The next move is yours. I assume you know what to do.

August's new #1 fan

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