Mike Buzzelli

Column Mike Buzzelli

Mike Buzzelli is a stand up comedian and published author. He is a theater and arts critic for 'Burgh Vivant, Pittsburgh's online cultural talk magazine, and an active board member of the Pittsburgh New Works Festival, the Carnegie Arts Initiative and the Carnegie Screenwriters. His book, "Below Average Genius" is a collection of essays culled from his weekly humor column here in the Observer-Reporter.

The heat is on

Still smiling through the hot weather

July 19, 2013

I may be part lizard. I know a lot of people are complaining about the heat, but I love it.

I enjoy basking in the sunshine, even though the sun has been trying to burn me to a crisp lately.

I had another bout of sunburn, but I am still enjoying the summer sun.

Maybe it’s in the DNA. I am Italian, Greek and Irish (OK, maybe not so much of the Irish part).

Last Sunday, the temperature was in the low 90s. I think I may be the only one saying “low 90s,” instead of “91 degrees.”

The heat has made some people crazy.

I noticed the irritability in a lot of people.

Tempers seem to rise with the temperature. I assume the two words are related on purpose.

Angry people are called hot-headed all the time.

I noticed a rise in crankiness in adults. The cranky ones are even crankier around me.

I haven’t been helping with this ridiculous grin on my face; the bright white smile on my sun-darkened head.

I saw one Facebook post that said, “Satan called. He wants his weather back.”

To me, hell would be cold place; one of those arctic research centers at the South Pole.

I don’t like to be cold.

I don’t use the air-conditioning in my car, even on the hottest days.

That’s why I am convinced there is something wrong with me.

I might have gotten lizard DNA somewhere.

I am surprised I don’t have scales and a tail.

This one time in Palm Springs, I was hanging out by the pool and I didn’t notice that the display window on my cellphone melted.

The colors on the glass screen went rainbow.

I could only make out the first digit of the caller, and I couldn’t read my contacts.

For some reason, I had that phone a few weeks before I got rid of it.

It was a good excuse not to call people, though.

The point is that the sun was strong enough to make my display screen go all lava-lampy and I didn’t even notice it was that hot out. I believe the temperature was 114 degrees that day.

You’d think I would have noticed.

All I really learned is that cellphones are not as weather-resistant as people.

Ironically (or perhaps sadly), a week prior to our recent heat wave, I had a cousin lose her cellphone to the rain.

She had to put it in a bag of rice.

That’s a thing. I didn’t know that was a thing. I hope no one ate pilaf that week at her house.

I am so easy to recognize in the summer.

If you see a dark-skinned (or even red-tinged) man walking down the street smiling when it’s 99 degrees, you will know it’s me.

Geico may ask me to be their new spokes-lizard.

I may have melted my brain, but I plan on smiling through Labor Day.



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