Friday Afternoon, Small-Town Tennessee, Hot Day In August

You know it's hot when you go to the bank to deposit a few checks, and the teller hands you a bottle of chilled water with your deposit slips, and invites you to sit down for a few minutes.

It's so hot (How hot is it?) that the local golf club has had to build temporary greens in two fairways, because the heat has destroyed the original greens. They heat up all day in the 100+ heat, the rain comes in the evening. Instead of watering the greens, the rain ends up boiling on the greens. OS played five holes, two with the temp greens, and a third that really should be taken out of play and repaired.

It's really hot. OS usually walks, come what may, but reason prevailed and he took a cart. Even riding, five holes in the heat was it, followed by a long cool shower before heading home. The starter will be turning away anyone who attempts to play without a cart tomorrow, even the teenagers who are too young to drive carts. It's that hot.

OS hates shopping at WalMart. Period. He'll duck in for dog food if he has to, when the seed-and-feed is closed, but that's about all he can tolerate. Blessedly, there are still small grocers and a 50's-era-by-golly men's shop on Main Street. OS ducked in to buy socks, and the salesman was gossiping with a gent who had to be at least 85 years old. He had tales to tell, especially about the bootlegger from the next county who publicly held court at the diner across the street.

The 8th District Republican primary candidates have all decided to publicly kiss and make up after weeks of circular firing squad stupidity, and visited downtown yesterday. Salesman reports there was a large crowd there to greet them. This is new behavior. Candidates have never paid more than token interest in this county, and Republicans have never drawn a crowd here. Hmmm...they turned out in 100 degree heat.

More Planet Knucklehead stuff today, but OS won't use this space to bellyache. It's the weekend.