July: hot as a draft from hell

by David Grand
August 16, 2006

Don't need to tell you that, nor to the farmers across the Plains, who because of the drought conditions blanketing 60 percent of the country, mowed down their damaged crops rather than try to harvest them, or to the ranchers that have been forced to sell their entire herds.

That such heat waves will, according to scientist's model of global warming occur more frequently in the future, is almost as depressing as the soaring electrical bills we'll be receiving for July, along with residential customers across the nation who've used 22 percent more electricity than they normally do in that month.

Now, I followed all the practical tips to help me and my dog's survive in the 100-degree heat: I wore loose-fitting clothes outdoors, my "birthday suit" indoors, kept my window AC's running full blast, cooled the dogs off with the garden hose, put a bucket of ice cubes in front of the floor fan where they slept, and exerted as little energy as possible (which was easy for me to do, a "couch potato" that I am).

As I was drinking my tenth glass of water in the bathroom (so as to avoid frequent trips), and filling the dog's water bowl for the umpteenth time, I glanced at the Indian paintings on my wall and found myself wondering how they coped with the oppressive heat in their dwellings before being confined to reservations.

Out of curiosity, I pulled up a map on a web site that showed the various dwelling types, geographically. For up to now, the only ones I was aware of were the Tipi that the Plains Indians used (as depicted in all the Western movies), and  the Long House in which the Iroquois lived. And the only reason I knew that was from having watched countless re-runs of that epic 1940 movie "Northwest Passage" starring Spencer Tracy, and seeing his rangers burning their Long Houses to the ground.

Of the dwellings--ranging from the Tipi, Wigwam, Earth lodge, Wikiup, Hogan, Plank House, Long House, Pit-Mat House, and the Chickee--I concluded that last one (peculiar to Florida) would've been the coolest and easiest to build.  It was a pole and thatch shelter typically 9' wide by 16' long and with platforms about 3' off the ground to provide cooling and protection from snakes, insects, alligators and flooding. Palmetto fond thatch was tied to the framework on all sides, including the roof to provide a comfortable waterproof covering.

Hmm. Maybe I'll build me a Chickee in my fenced backyard, in case next summer is forecasted to be another scorcher. And putting the "screws" to BG&E in the process would be an added incentive.

Three feet wouldn't be too high of a jump for my dogs to answer nature's call. And I could put a TV in it, a cooler for soft drinks and candies, a few extra shorts/ tee shirts and use my cell phone to communicate with the outside world.

And I'd only have to go the house to cook my meals (which I'd eat in the Chickee) and to type my columns every other week. And, oh yes, to go to the bathroom, unless, that is, I rented one of those portable toilets.

For what little comfort It might be for you, we're better off than living in Libya where the temperature extreme (F) is 136; and in parts of Israel, Tunisia, Iran, Sudan and in Death Valley, California where the temperature ranges from 120 to 130. (No wonder Iran's president acts as if his brain was fried.)