Guess What?

Beating the Heat!

Growing up, my family didn't have air conditioning, so we were pretty inventive when it came to beating the heat and trying to stay cool. Where I lived in southern California, the summer temperatures would be in the high eighties and nineties, with some hundred degree days thrown in for good measure.

Each room would have it's own fan-box fans in the bedrooms, and oscillating ones in the family and living rooms. Sometimes, my parents would put a large pan containing a block of ice in front of the fans.

We didn't have a swimming pool, but we did have a few sprinklers that attached to a hose. We would hook these up and run through them, pretending that we were underwater princesses playing amongst the seaweed.

We also had a slip n slide...that was the best summer toy! The whole neighborhood would come over and we would see how many different tricks we could do while sliding on the wet plastic. My parents would grill hamburgers and hot dogs and we would make homemade lemonade(we had our own lemon tree) with lots of ice and in tall plastic tumblers. Sometimes my mom would even put in sliced strawberries to change it up.

We had an electric ice cream maker and a peach tree in the front yard. We would pick the peaches, dunk them in boiling water, slide off the skins and cut them up for delicious peach ice cream. It was a special treat to get the first taste.

And then there was the ice cream man, tinkling down the street, with great sounding treats like "sidewalk sundae", "bomb pops", push ups" and "big sticks". We were allowed to buy them every Friday afternoon. Afterwards, we would run through the sprinklers again, to wash off the stickiness.

Sometimes, my sisters and I would take turns fanning each other, or spritzing each other with a spray bottle filled with cold water. Twice a week, my mom would drive us down to the local high school for free swim time in the pool. And a few times a month, we would pile into the station wagon with a huge cooler, towels and sunscreen and head down to the beach.

On the very hottest nights, we would camp out in the backyard, eating summer fruit and telling stories. My parents would lay out several tarps and we laid down in our sleeping bags and would look at the stars, trying to guess what pictures they made. Once, my cousin even brought his telescope, so that we could see even more of the Heavens. I discovered that the moon was not made of green cheese!

As we got older, we would bring out the record player and have dance parties on the patio. Our friends would bring snacks, and we supplied all the soda and music. There were just a few dark corners, so make out sessions were rare-at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

I feel sort of sorry for everyone nowadays. With air conditioning so common in the suburbs, people tend to sit in their houses in front of the TV or the computer and miss the kind of fun I used to have before all of this technology. So once in a while. I made it an air conditioning-free day, so that my own kids could experience how to make their own fun. Now that they are adults, they seem less bored and more resourceful. I can live with that.


Donna Gayler



Donna Gayler lives in Southern California where she volunteers for many community and charitable organizations, and is a political enthusiast.

Donna, Your essay recalls happy times from my childhood too. I think TV and air conditioning spoiled a lot of community spirit.

I, too, played in the sprinklers and any swimming trips were to local ponds where one could not see the bottom and just "trusted" that there were no snakes that could curl around our ankles.

My children, however, were gifted with neighborhood swim clubs. All the children learned to swim at an early age because the older neighborhood kids were so helpful. Wednesday night swim meets were the best. We would cheer on the little ones who raced while holding on to the sides of the pool, a ribbon in the end for everyone.

Two of our three children went on to swim competitively; our daughter winning the high point trophy for the city one year.

Watch the Olympics! One of the products of our neighborhood swim clubs will be competing in China. Her name is Margaret Holtzer.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Kathy Albers,

Oh, the summers of childhood!
I grew up in a lower middle class neighborhood, in Ballard (a unique neighborhood within the city of Seattle). Most families had only one car, which dad drove to work. So, we walked everywhere. During hot days, one of the moms would walk six or seven of us the three miles to Green Lake (an in-city lake with wonderful swimming beaches)where she would watch over all of us as we played in the cooling lake water. Sometimes we would walk to GOlden Gardens beach on the Puget Sound, or on weekends we would pile into the car for a picnic at Carkeek Park. It too, was on the sound, and home to tidepools filled with tiny crabs and baby sandabs. Which, of course, we caught and wanted to take home! Railroad tracks paralleled the beach, and when we saw a train coming, we would place a penny on the tracks. Loved those flattened pennies!
On other days, we would pack lunches (peanut butter and dill pickle sandwiches were my favorite) and walk several miles to Woodland PArk Zoo. In those days, admission was free, and we would visit the animals, collect peacock feathers, ride the ponies, roll on the hilly lawns, and climb the canons before we walked back home.

In the evenings, we all played "hide-and-see" over a three-block area. The neighbors didn't mind us running through their back yards....well, one did and we stayed away from his yard!

We, too, would sleep in sleeping bags in our back yards on those hot nights, telling stories until we fell asleep. Mom and Dad slept outside, too.....the house was just too hot for sleeping on those nights.

WE didn't see the ice cream man very often, but a frozen popsicle was a real treat (I loved the root beer or the licorice flavors), and the moms always had pitchers of cool-aid in the refrigerators.

Yup. No air conditioning, no vehicle transportation, no fast food, very little TV------just lots and lots of outdoor time and fun!

FB~ I love dill pickle sandwiches! And sometimes, my mom would let us make our own popsicles with Kool-aid in little dixie cups and a stick in the middle.

We didn't have any near by lakes where I lived, but our neibor had a pool that they let us use on the very hottest days, after we would help to pick their oranges and avocadoes.

I grew up in Minnesota and we didn't have hot summers. We had bad skiing season.

You've got to keep those myths alive when you get all growed up. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.



Reality was we had lots of hot days, sprinklers, and daily trips to swim in the lake, canoe on the other lake, water ski on another lake, and the obligatory sleep-over at the movie theatre when it got really bad. Those double features were great for escaping nights that stayed in the high 80s with humididididity to match.

I remember one night, when it was awfully hot, and they played Lawrence of Arabia followed by Dr. Zhivago. By the time Zhivago got to the Russian Steppes, we were ready to run outside to warm up.

That was after dying of thirst in the desert with Lawrence. And finally cooling off during the potato planting at Varikyno. (Hey, that's phonetic spelling in the old Russki. Don't like it? Try living in Siberia by the 3M plant in winter. Between the smell of adhesive and the cold, you won't care after that.)

But seriously, I never have figured out how people survived summer in the south or the southwest parts of the country. The few weeks we got of hot weather were more than my winter loving little heart could bear.

Still are.

Growing up without air conditioning wasn't so bad. Now living without it seems impossible! Maybe it's all part of the aging process.

In my pre-teen years, we lived in an apartment in White Plains, NY. Maybe two or three times during the summer we went to Rye Beach on Long Island Sound, about 15 miles from home. Aside from that, there were no sprinklers or garden hoses, and no open "johnny pumps" like the ones the kids in the Bronx got to use. The NYFD even gave out sprinkler attachments that could be attached to the hydrants in order to save water and, especially, pressure. In White Plains we just endured the hot days and somehow survived.

Then we moved to Peekskill, where I spent my teen years. My favorite "watering hole" was the city pool at Depew Park, where I went almost every day that was hot enough, usually walking the 3-mile round trip. My sister preferred a little "beach" on the Peekskill Hollow Brook. Sometimes we would all go to Loundsbury Lake over at Blue Mountain. At home, again with no air conditioning, we survived by opening the windows at night and keeping them shut during the hottest days.

Now, in Western New York, we have central air, which we don't really need all that often: only when the humidity gets really up there do we keep it on at night. That means maybe half a dozen nights all summer. We don't get a lot of high humidity in these parts, temperatures are usually quite reasonable (it has never officially hit 100° in Buffalo), and there is almost a constant breeze off the lakes (Erie and Ontario). Beaches and public pools abound, although we seldom utilize them; hoses and sprinklers are everywhere.

The reputation of this area is something like what Lillibet says about Minnesota: 10 months of winter and 2 months of construction (which some people refer to as the season of "hard sledding"). Actually, our true winter lasts about 3 months; construction season starts in March and runs at least through November, sometimes well through December. We get more sunshine than Orlando, and far less heat and humidity. If I had it to do all over, I'd choose to grow up here in Western New York.

I remember that the rooms that were "closed" off such as the formal parlor were the coolest rooms. That seems counter-intuitive. On the hottest days my friend Linda and I would lie side by side flat on our back on the floor where the floor boards were cool.

Who has ever "iced" a watermelon in a cool creek and then cracked it open to eat? -- mmmmm that was the best. Eating one out of a refrigerator just doesn't taste as good.

As teens, my friends formed the CCC which stood for the Crazy Creek Club. The membership required swimming from one side of the dark, snake-fest creek to the other side. After that, we would jump the rock and slide down the little waterfalls. My father once killed a six-foot water moccasin that was sunning itself under the rock on which we were jumping.

I guess my parents white trash enough that we actually drove our car (singular) into the creek on top of the rocks to wash it.

...and then there was the time we were on the way to Church and looked to the left as we crossed the bridge and there were GROWN NAKED MEN in the creek. Man, my brother and daddy stopped that cavorting fast. They were drunker than a skunk....

Donna, thanks for the memories....now four little eyes are looking at me patiently wondering when "chow's on."

I've always lived in cool climates so summer has been a brief treat. I'm a bit like a lizard, feeling more energetic as the mercury rises. As a kid I lived not far from Joe in Westchester County, NY, where spring and fall are glorious. The Hudson Valley gets more summer rainfall than points north or south, so it's amazingly lush, but a bit sultry in July & August. For at least part of the summer my family got away to Cape Cod where brisk breezes prevail and it rarely reaches 90. We moved here for good when I was 13.

My only extended period away from the east coast was during college in Berkeley, CA, which has a "springtime all year" climate. It reaches the 70's in the afternoon for six months or so, but rarely gets above the low 80's. I spent one summer working in a tin can factory in Southern California where it reached 90 on the button every afternoon. I liked that. I felt the mountains in California were more interesting than the coastline. I was disappointed that the water along the Pacific coast doesn't get warm enough to swim in for extended periods. My whole time in California, I only went for a few brief dips in the surf. My big thrill that summer was driving up to Hollywood every once in a while and watching big shots get out of air conditioned limousines while wearing fur coats.

During my 33 years of farming, I took pride in being able to do heavy labor even when the temperature crept into the high 80's. It was spring frost season I dreaded, when calm nights in May could wipe out a crop in less than an hour.

Although real heat waves are rare, New England weather is justifiably famous for dramatic events. After the Blizzard of '78, I couldn't get my pickup truck in or out for nearly three weeks. The Perfect Storm (of book & movie) flooded half my farm under sea water in less than 15 minutes. Little harm done, fortunately, because I finished harvesting only a week before. Earlier that summer Hurricane Bob uprooted my apple trees, which took me two days to replant.

Where I live now has a very humid microclimate, which I like. Things mildew like crazy but it has only reached 90 once or twice in five years. The water in the harbors and bays to the south and west of Cape Cod gets into the high 70's for a couple of months, low 80s' some years; so you can swim until you're tired, not chilled. I live a short distance from a bay famous for its boisterous afternoon breezes.

My part Celtic ancestry and a life spent outdoors in fields and sailboats puts me in a high risk group for skin cancer, so I don't spend as much time in the sun as I used to. I love summer as much as ever, though. It's festive, people smile more readily, prim Yankees look great in linen and I like it hot.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Tom Gelsthorpe,

Regarding swimming in large bodies of water, I remember summer trips to the North Shore of Lake Superior. We'd travel along Highway 61, a bit past Duluth, and find a place with a beach (aka rocky area open to the water not comprised totally of boulders and/or cliffs), and jump in.

Of course, we'd spend about 10 minutes changing from shorts to swimsuits, and then last about a minute and a half in the cold, cold water. And that was in August.

Any time that Labor Day was more than a minute ahead or a day behind on the calendar, even a minute was impossible. Ice would form on the water buckets at night, and a glass of water became a glass of ice, especially when camping on those nights.

If Lake Superior was the only place to bathe, it meant having someone pour a bit of warm water over the hair, a quick lather up, a soaping of the body parts, preferably out of any wind off the lake, and then a plunge to rinse. You either rinsed fast enough or endured soapy hair until the next day, if such ever came, suitable for a repeat bath.

Most of the time, the Lake temps would never be above 50 in those inlets and lagoons. Yet, when we went to Georgian Bay on Lake Huron, there was surf. Literal surf. With warm waves. That bay is like a huge bathtub with great water park features.

Of course, at the time, we didn't know anything about water parks. We either had the swimming pool or the lake.

I don't think much about those cold swims, except when I take the plunge into Lake Michigan, which is about a block from my flat. I also allow students to use my flat as a "beach house", so they can change, grab a towel, go to the beach leaving purse and keys and wallets here, and have their afternoon at the beach.

If I have hyperactive boys coming for lessons, I encourage them to swim first, fiddle later. That is also the only way I allow anyone to "second fiddle", in the cosmic sense. Musically, they can play second violin fiddle all they want. They just have to play like they are soloists, for a bad second fiddle is worse than having a [bad] violist sitting on that stand.

Good violists are like the Easter Bunny. They don't exist.

--a little violist vitriol, with WaterMusik, for the morning--

Living in a semi-arid region my whole life, I have a hard time with humidity. The worst humidity I ever experienced was 3 years ago, when visiting Philadelphia the last week of June. The temps were 95 degrees with 95% humidity...and it wasn't raining! It felt like i was breathing water.

I like the dry heat, and sometimes temps of 110 in the summer are not unheard of. Palm Springs, which is an hour southeast of me can reach temps in the 120's. Death valley, also in Socal can get to be 135.

I like the fact that the pacific is colder than the Atlantic. As a kid, I could spend hours in the surf. But nowadays, due to prescription meds, I must limit my time in the sun.

quote:

I like the dry heat, and sometimes temps of 110 in the summer are not unheard of. Palm Springs, which is an hour southeast of me can reach temps in the 120's. Death valley, also in Socal can get to be 135.

I get cranky if the weather isn't between 65 and 75 degrees!

...and I love to swim in warm water. I nearly froze when we tried to swim on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Although I grew up a Myrtle Beach girl, I much prefer Panama City - Mobile coast.

Of course, the Hawaii beaches are the best.

NOW THAT'S THE WAY TO BEAT THE HEAT!

If you want warm water, Acapulco beats Hawaii.

I can't help but think that when I grew up we built houses with lots of windows that could be open to catch the wind, we didn't rely on Air Conditioning.

Aahhhhh..
We in the normally rusty Puget Sound region have been enjoying optimal weather this past week, with more on the horizon. We are enjoying high 70's to low 80's, a gentle breeze with very little humidity. Blue skies, sun kissing the roses and lilies, and I'm sitting on my back porch watching the golfers go by.
This is why I love this area......at least in the summer.

The dreary and drizzly winters are why we skedaddle to Palm Springs in November!

We grew up, and have lived most of our lives, within about 50 miles of that awful Philadelphia summer heat/humidity that Donna described so accurately above.
When we were young, and working on the farms (first our own, then the neighbors) there was no air conditioning. We got up very early to get into the fields for whatever needing doing. Sometimes it was plowing, hoeing, spreading fertilizer, hoeing, planting, hoeing, picking,... did I mention hoeing? whatever. By noon you were ready to hose off the outer layer of dust so you could eat lunch with just a minimum of dirt ingested. The workday ended around 4P so that you could go to the nearby creek (pronounce crick) for a quick dip to cool down before going home to fix dinner while the boys got to pack the days pickings to go to market.

Window fans (one per room) were all that moved the air around at night, so you spread a sheet on the cool floor and tried to sleep there. Exhaustion made up for coolness, you slept because you were bone weary and knew that you had to get up early the next day too.

Now the winter was better, unless we ran out of oil... then we all slept on the kitchen floor with the oven door open. Ah, yes... fond memories.
GP

Ever hear of a "sleeping porch?" My aunt, who lived next door, actually had a bed on her screened in porch where the slept in the summer to get the cool breezes.

Since the house was built in the late 1800s, it originally did not have an interior bathroom. A room was converted to the bathroom and it was a big room. A claw-foot tub sat below the window which was above the bed on the sleeping porch.

My first cousin Billy and I loved to run, jump from the tub into the window and down on the bed, to do it all over again and again.

You know I don't ever remember us being scolded for it. I would have yelled my head off if my children had been so roudy within my hearing or eyesight.