The heat, as singer/songwriter Glenn Frey once observed, is on.
It’s been day after day of inhospitably high temps, 30’s C & 90’s F, but the whallop of humidity, stickily slathered across the city, what’s making things unbearable.
Our squat little pinguino still loyally conditions the air in our apartment, but in a — shall we say — tactful and non-confrontational manner.
It steers well clear of the gruff, freon-oozin’ and temperature-stompin’ attitude that is the more vulgar custom of California’s air-con culture. In fact, Mr. Pinguino does not seem to cool the air at all, but instead seems to hum and gurgle in a way which simply suggests an air conditioner is present, and therefore, ostensibly cooling things.
So it’s like a psycho-somatic air conditioner, I guess. Or maybe… it’s just busted?