COLD FRONT

What happened to the cold front? I rose early to take my youngest son to football practice expecting to encounter snow outside my door, but a merciless South Texas sun had already melted it away. Ni modo.

At a minimum, we are guaranteed cool nights. I listened to the Cowboys make fools out of themselves as the same son and I drove to Boca Chica Beach and navigated along the shoreline.

Whenever Maclovio O'Malley, la Voz de los Vatos, has a fresh piece of ass on the horizon, he informs his buddies, "I'm going to Boca Chica Beach." I can understand his sentiments. Nothing compares to enjoying nature with the waves crashing in the background and the wind blowing from the southeast.

We have entered my favorite time of year. I love our terrible weather. When the skies turn gray, the rain falls and the temperature drops dramatically as it did Friday, I raise the blinds of my window and give thanks to the fates that I'm still alive. I feel invigorated. Maybe I should move to Seattle.

I am no fan of our summer sun. I jokingly tell my fellow tipplers that God created air-conditioning on the eighth day. I am a convert to the necessary luxury. In the summer of 1977 my first wife and I moved into a cute duplex on Washington Street.

"It doesn't have air-conditioning."

"We don't need air-conditioning," I blustered.

Young men surviving on small salaries tend to be cheap-ass bastards, too.

As a native of Northern California, we didn't have air-conditioning growing-up. The nights were cool and comfortable. I expected to sleep peacefully in our duplex, but not even four fans whirling at the same time could stop the flow of perspiration. I learned my lesson. I presently reside in a long-term hotel. I pay a flat fee monthly and I can turn my room into a meat locker if I so desire.

I could not honestly answer if someone questioned me about the heat this summer. I don't know if it was a particularly hot summer or not. I go from one air-conditioned locale to another transported in an air-conditioned car. As a scamp in those days of yore, I felt sexy with a dark tan, but I don't seek the sun anymore.

Our bad weather is also a harbinger of something special. After the cold front passes during our late fall, winter and early spring months, the days are magnificent. Unfortunately, I waste too many of them sitting at my desk writing.

But at least I'm inspired.