A Mite Too Hot

The show went well last night, but it was a little warm inside the theater. In hopes of raising a breeze, I added a little of my elixir to the brush of a washboard player.

Sure enough, the brush picked up speed. The increased friction caused sparks to fly off the board, though, and before you knew it, Cornbread Ted's mandolin caught fire. Luckily a flat-foot dancer was able to stomp Ted out, and the audience thought the whole event was part of the act. Ted, who had experienced worse when a bee once caused an audience to stampede, carried on.

From now on when the weather is warm I shall just attach a fan to the nearest fiddle player.

Copyright © 2012 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.

A Hot Summer

This summer is too hot. I sold some Wizard Water^© to a bartender who was serving beer at a political rally. Late in the afternoon he ran low on beer but not on customers. Thinking to stretch his product, he added some of my elixir to a half-empty keg. The keg -- which was quite warm from sitting in the sun -- began to swell. Foam spewed from the spigot in ever-increasing quantities. Soon suds covered the ground, then rose shoulder-high, then overwhelmed the stage.

The speakers fled and the rally broke up. Its sponsors blamed the beer vendor, and he blamed me. He is looking for me as I write this.

I am on route to Alaska, where cooler heads prevail.

Copyright © 2012 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.

After the Show

It was so hot in Dahlonega last night that Bleb decided to sit in the creek after the show to cool off. He sat there until noon today. Nothing but the promise of my wife's fried-egg-and-tomato sandwiches could convince him to leave. The result: we only just now arrived back home. My wife is mighty upset at being called to cook at 10pm on a Sunday evening, but a promise is a promise. When we return in September, I'm bringing along a set of bagpipes. They can make anything move.

Dealing With Heat

Hot weather is the bane of many who must work outdoors. There are places so hot that the people who live there have to live someplace else. A farmer once asked me if I could recommend some way to deal with extreme heat.

"Yes," I said, "Move to Nova Scotia."

"I can't," he said. "My farm is here."

"In that case," I said, "I can only offer you an untested theory. In my travels I have seen that people who live in the Tropics consume very fiery cuisines. The Mexicans season their meals with jalapeño peppers. The East Indians burn their stomachs with curries. West Africans chew the powerful piri-piri chili pepper, and the Polynesians eat lava.

"I believe this is in response to the weather. These natives eat hot things to raise their internal body temperatures to more closely match the external temperature. This enables them to work with impunity in the equatorial heat. Of course, they are used to such searing dishes and we are not."

The farmer pondered this a moment and then walked away. I put the incident out of my mind. A year later, he approached me and gave this interesting report:

"I thought about what you said, Doc, and decided to test your theory. I fed one of my cows nothing but peppers, onions, chili powder and a little sulfur for two weeks during the hottest part of summer. My other cattle were collapsing from the heat or wouldn't budge from the shade, but this one galloped around an open field for hours in the full sun.

Everything seemed fine until she trotted into a creek and exploded."

"Ah!" I said. "I am sorry for your loss. Obviously her system had adapted to extreme heat but could not adjust quickly enough to the cool water. This is good to know. If you ever decide to try this method yourself, take care to avoid sudden changes of temperature."

He said that would not be necessary, as he planned to avoid the method entirely.

That is probably a wise decision. I will rest easier knowing that this cure is not being practiced by anyone in my vicinity.

copyright ©2011 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.

Second Annual Piedmont College Bluegrass Festival

I just returned from hosting the second annual Piedmont College Bluegrass Festival in Demorest, Georgia. The weather was cooler than last year. Last year it got so hot and humid that two mandolins, a banjo and a fiddle belonging to members of The Foxfire Boys swelled up and could only be used as string basses. The musicians were mighty upset. Their rendition of "Old Joe Clark" sounded so profound, though, that a local minister hired them to replace his organist, who'd been blown out a church window in a steampipe mishap.

That was last year. This year, as I said, the weather was much cooler. Only one mandolin swelled up, and only to the size of a guitar. Next year I'll advise the musicians to bind their instruments tightly around the middle with twine, to keep the swelling to a minimum. That way at most they will wind up with dulcimers, which are easily replaced.

In Arizona, they have the opposite problem. It's a dry heat, and their basses tend to shrink. If you've got a penknife and are quick, though, you can turn a large bass into two smaller instruments, neither of them dulcimers. I believe The Foxfire Boys are planning a trip out there soon.

copyright ©2011 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.

More Hot Weather

We've been having a real hot spell this month. My wife has taken to fixing coffee by setting the pot out to boil on the front porch. I heard a knock on the door two days ago about noon, and it was a shadow from the oak tree next to the house trying to come inside. Bleb's own shadow has been crawling up into his harness lately, making it hard to fit properly.

I almost acquired a bearskin because of the heat. I was walking down by Curry Creek and spotted a very large bearskin draped across a bush near the water, with no humans in sight. I was about to remove it from the bush when I heard a splashing sound. I looked over at the creek, and there was an ursine creature about four times my size headed for the bush, sans fur. I left quickly -- the bear could have his skin and I would keep mine.

Yesterday I thought I'd try to cool things down a bit by mixing up some ice made from Wizard Water^© . The ice froze so hard though, that none of the cold would rub off. I'm storing it in the fireplace in hopes that it will eventually warm up enough to provide a cool breeze when wind blows down through the chimney.

Until then, we are making do as best we can with cardboard fans and extra bits of shadow that my wife dug out of our well. I tacked them under the roof last night.

copyright ©2010 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.

A Partial Cure for Baldness

I have been working on a hair restorative to aid the follicularly challenged. I have not found a definitive cure, but can report with certainty that the following treatments do not work:

1. Cold baths. A cold bath will reduce blood flow to the head and strangle the hair roots.
2. Hot baths. This opens the pores and causes the hair to fall out.
3. Vinegar baths. This causes the skin to wrinkle and the hair to be sucked into the scalp. It is, however, good for temporarily avoiding a visit to the barber.
4. Salt water baths. Turns your hair white.
5. Vigorous rubbing. This further encourages hair removal.
6. Beef jerky. If you eat a lot of beef jerky over a two-week period, hair loss will slow. If you continue to eat nothing but beef jerky, however, hair loss will accelerate.
7. Hard work. Perspiration from hard work acidifies the scalp and promotes greater hair loss than any of the above methods. If you wish to preserve your remaining locks, then whatever you do, keep labor to a minimum!

Sometimes a sudden shock will initiate a spurt of hair growth. Once I was hit on the head by a falling tree branch, and noticed a week later that a fresh patch of hair had sprouted in the area where the branch had struck. Inspired, I cut a thick staff of oak and bade my wife to apply it firmly to another bald spot. She did so, and sure enough a few days later, after the swelling had gone down, there was a fresh shock of bristles covering the bruise.

This is not a pleasant cure though, and I will continue to look for something more practical. However, those of you who have just a small bare spot may want to consider using this method. For one dollar, I can even provide customers with a finely sanded oak cudgel that will not leave splinters in the skin. When you see me, just ask for “the hair club for men.”

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