July 1999

You, dear Readers, are no doubt familiar with the Concept of Air Conditioning. In this selfsame Concept, one makes a Liquid very hot in order that the surrounding Air becomes very cold. Why should I extol such a Concept as this one?
Why indeed. My Domicile, tho' small, is located on the third floor of a Building. Insofar as such Building hath only three Floors, one could rightly deem my Domicile to be, as it were, on the top Floor. This Edifice, or Building, is of a reasonable size for one built in the middle part of this Century. It has also, a reasonable Location. Too, a reasonable Rental Fee.
When this selfsame Edifice was built, such Luxuries as Air Conditioning were not deemed essential; nay, they were not deemed. One could conceivably add a personal Unit to one's Domicile; but I would hear not of such expedients. In stead of such expedients, I use what is known as the Fan.
This is not the Fan in the way that one should usually call the Fan; viz. a piece of folded paper with fanciful, irrational decoration. No, this Fan is a Hobbyhorse of sorts, a Hobbyhorse that Slawkenbergius, had he heard of it, would not have turned into a story about Noses which are merely Noses. No, let us not hear of Slawkenbergius' Nose. It is rather expedient that one should speak of Electricity.

Yes, come Muse, let us sing of Rats.
And Slawkenbergius' Nose.

Ho there! What talk of Shem and Shaun! Who let Slawkenbergius back in after I had deemed him not Valuable to the Topic at Hand?
Would that this too, too-solid Flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a Dew! But Hamlet, had he known of Air Conditioning, would not have melted, as indeed I am so doing. No, would he not have instead frozen? When Temperatures soar, and Humidity joins for the tour, is it not better to indeed combat the Heat with a Chill? Which returns the Author to his dreams of Air Conditioning. Free, on such an account as Freon may be.
Indeed, one has realized that the topmost Domicilical Unit above which the Roof is flat, and the propensity of Caloric to rise, has indeed caused a certain Degree of melting, as the Author observes Butter floating down the Table.
But, soon Winter shall come.
Tempus fugit.