Old and Cool
I’m so old I grew up without an awareness of air conditioning. It existed—the Almighty Google says the first residential A/C unit was installed in a mansion in 1914—but it wasn’t prevalent. Later I married a man who hated A/C because it caused sinus problems. So we lived the bulk of our married life without it—despite living south of the Mason-Dixon line. And we managed.
I recently moved to the Yankeeland, where I am seldom hot. But people here start getting overheated when temperatures hit the 60s. Air conditioners start coming on before the mercury hits 70. And when there is a heat wave in the 80s, people panic and install central air in places that were previously deemed livable without it.
I recently went to an outdoor concert that was moved indoors at the last minute due to the dangerous heat. The high that day was 83 degrees—long before the evening concert started. These folks would be aghast at Woody Fest—the annual tribute to Woody Guthrie, held on or near his July 14 birthday in his hometown of Okema, OK, with temperatures traditionally in the 90s—or higher.
But then, winters here are believed by Southerners to be unbearable—although the Yanks take it in stride. Yes, streets need plowing and sidewalks need to be shoveled or snow blown—but with a warm coat and waterproof boots, a walk in deep snow provides a sensual experience like no other. A soft white deafening silence. Awesome —in the historic sense of the word. And my abode, built in the ’50s to house blue collar laborers needed for local manufacturing, warms up much more efficiently than any of the Deep South homes I’ve lived in.
My sweetie and I had jobs in the high desert for a dozen years, where the locals thought 10% humidity was unbearable. Coming from South Louisiana—we had to laugh. But ultimately, these folks taught us things—like how to appreciate rain. A light sprinkle could make New Mexicans literally dance with joy. After living with floods and hurricanes for more than 20 years, it was an eye-opener for us. Now I rarely complain about rain—even hellacious storms that keep me from going somewhere.
But here in western Michigan, where we continually get moisture from a lake so wide it takes four hours to cross it on the ferry, I see automatic sprinklers watering lawns in the rain. It probably won’t hurt the lawn but might ultimately tax the potable water supply.
Meanwhile A/C use continues to contribute to climate change—which, in turn, makes us want to turn on the A/C
Perhaps part of the problem is that people don’t move around enough. Perceptions of hot and cold are malleable. If a Northerner could spend a summer in South Louisiana with little or no air conditioning, and another in the desert where lawns—like water—are scarce, Michigan summers might seem easier, and the grass already green enough. If Southerners could spend an entire winter in the Yankeeland, they might discover that building solidly insulated houses for everyone could ease costs, cold, and heat in one fell swoop.
I’ve long thought living among other cultures teaches folks to see beyond their differences and makes them more tolerant. Perhaps the same is true for living in foreign climates. If you’re hot—try hanging out someplace even hotter. And if you’re cold—vice versa. It might ease your discomfort in the long run and even help save the planet.
(BTW—I am living proof that being “elderly” doesn’t automatically indicate a need for A/C.)