Okay, so – technically – summer doesn’t arrive until 7:28 tomorrow morning; but, as far as I’m concerned, it’s been here for a while. My brain gets fooled when every day features 100-degree heat and humidity approaching that of the inside of a tea kettle.
On this glorious Sunday morning (Fathers Day, for those of you in North America), I’m sitting in my office naked at 7:25 in the morning, already sweating, trying to determine what I’m going to wear to a baseball game this afternoon. Do I go for the “so sweaty it looks like I’ve been swimming in brine” look by donning jeans and a tee-shirt, or do I shoot for the “my legs have been painted with mercurochrome” badge by sticking with shorts and hanging out in direct sunlight for several hours? Right now, I’m leaning towards the sweaty look, but anything could happen between now and the time that I’m supposed to meet Rich, John and Betsy for lunch.
Last weekend, I attended the Great American Brass Band Festival in
Danville, KY – or at least as much of it as I could stand before the incessant heat forced me to ditch it for the relative comfort of sitting in my air-conditioned car for the 6-hour drive home. I drove up to Kentucky on Friday morning, got set up in the worst campground ever imagined (the Pioneer Playhouse Campground, if you need to avoid it), and then went to a nearby airport where there was to have been a hot-air balloon race to kick off the festival.
Unfortunately, high winds grounded the balloons. I spent about two hours walking around the airport taking pictures of a clown band out of Indiana and a brass quintet out of Tennessee before heading back to my campsite to read, make some ravioli and suffer.
Was up early on Saturday, thanks to a brief rain shower at around 6:00. After a tepid shower in the campground’s disgusting shower room, I went to downtown Danville and took a quick walking tour. Not a great deal to see. Danville is a small college town (Centre College). At one end of Main Street, there was a gazebo. At the other end, there was a large stage. Since the bands that would be playing in the morning were scheduled to do so at the gazebo, I grabbed a seat there and waited until 9:00, when the Saxton’s Cornet Band out of Frankfurt, KY, kicked the weekend off. They’re a period band (Civil War), which generally doesn’t appeal to me, but they were quite good and highly entertaining.
Also at the gazebo, I saw a ragtime quintet and the Fountain City Brass Band.
There was a parade down Main Street at around 11:00, by which time it was getting uncomfortably hot. After the parade, I went back to my tent to change into clothes that weren’t sweat-soaked and scarf a couple of sandwiches. Then it was back to the main stage to catch the afternoon & evening performances. I caught bits of the Millenium Brass quintet, the Southern Stars Symphonic Brass Band and the Canadian Staff Band of the Salvation Army before the heat just got to be too much for me. After hastily throwing my tent and gear into the car, I hit the road for home.
This past week was sort of a rotten one. My renter became severely ill on Wednesday, which prompted me to learn where the nearest emergency room to my house is (it was not necessary to go there). I worked from home on Thursday and noticed in the afternoon that I was also getting a tad sick. By Friday morning, I was feeling bad enough to call in sick and I spent most of the day in bed, although Chris lit up my world late in the afternoon by bringing me some matzah ball soup, cookies and nyquil.
I spent most of yesterday doing nothing and trying not to get any sicker. Woke up this morning with a chest cold, but I’m hoping the worst is past. I guess I’ll find out while I’m sitting in the oven that is the Braves’ stadium later this afternoon.
Happy Dads Day, Dad! Wish I were in New England with ya.
TWD