13 July 2010
They Can Have My Air Conditioning When They Pry It from My Cold, Dead Fingers
Or something like that.
I'm an American. Hear me? An American.
Among the many traits of such a son of the New World is a proper thankfulness-- and dependence-- upon air conditioning.
Call it the 8th Wonder of the World, if you will.
And if you get a moment to experience that first second of relief upon opening your front door on a blazing and humid July Sunday, after having worked off some Purgatory inside the air-conditioning-free zone that is your church, you will know what it is like to be thankful for God's gift of air conditioning.
I mean, of course the Incarnation tops it. Sure. And maybe the creation of man, if you want to get technical. But really, air conditioning is pretty good, top ten at least, and not enough appreciated. At night, do your children thank God for it? Do they? Do they? Come on!
Don't you teach them their Catechism? As you should know, the Catechism comes from Baltimore. Have you been in Baltimore in August? Do you know the real reason those gifts in the picture about the Fall of Man are wilting? It's hot out there!
And tell me this: Is the inventor of air conditioning canonized? If not, I would like to know why not. Not Catholic? Well, where are the ecumenists on this one?
As a fat man trapped in an obese man's body I will shout from the rooftops--I want my air conditioning!
All of this is prelude to an article about some egghead fake-climate change do-gooders who want me to quit using air conditioning.
Call me the Chuck Heston of climate control.