This always happens in New York in August--the heat arrives, as if no one had expected it, as if we had forgotten what it was like this time of year. Con Edison fucks up some neighborhood--in this year's case, the north part of Astoria, where some customers were without electricity for eight days--and then makes apologies in the news and in the papers.
I splurged yesterday in taking a car service to Jennifer's house--not so bad, only $18 with New Enrico's, my car service of choice for the last 8 years--because I had to transport 5 pogo sticks to her loft, but also because, as I later saw on the light-up sign at the bank that flashes the time and temperature that it was 1:42pm, and 106 degrees. Nuff said.
I'm also battling a sinus something-or-other. Congestion, mostly. I'm not sure if it's allergies, actual sickness, or just my body revolting against the constant hot/cold of going from air conditioner to outside and back again over and over.
Tomorrow, Sam Champion says, we'll be in a better "pocket of air." It sounds so much like space travel.
PS - Don't rush out to see Miami Vice. It sucks.