Many people have the fantasy of being on a tropic island in an ideal beach home that seems right out of an episode of “The Property Brothers.” I, on the other hand, do not care much for this scenario.
I mean, if it was a tropical setting where maybe it was a solid 76 degrees fahrenheit all the time–maybe. I do not care much for the upper end of the temperature scale. Fall and Winter are my favorite seasons. So that’s why the idea of the “perfect getaway” is not a tropical beach scene. My perfect getaway is a large, snowbound cabin stocked with plenty of food, firewood, wi-fi, and board games.
Needless to say, with these 90 degree days we’ve been having, I’m rather unhappy. I find that going outside reduces me to a sweaty, sponge like mess. Destroying my morning grooming, and making the rare moment I try to be suave causing me to turn into one of those oily, greasy losers from a Z grade 80s Teen Comedy. The only options after going to the grocery store is to blast the A/C in my car to try to cool off as quickly as possible, or also rush home and take another shower so I don’t feel like I’ve been the shift leader in a factory that makes steam and steam byproducts.
So how I am surviving these dreadful days that leave me feeling like a disused wash rag? I’m hiding out in my basement. Yes, my own personal fortress of solitude, my basement. There are no windows, it’s cool all the time, there are records, there are board games. My basement is bae, as the snappy peppy young people say. It stays dark down there most of time–the light coming from fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling, and the lamps that I have down there when I want that relaxed, evening feel.
I go down there after being outside. I turn on a fan, the air circulates, I begin to feel at peace with the world again. Hopeful that this Summer will pass and cooler weather will–God willing–be with us again. On the hotter nights I’ll invite friends over to enjoy the cold with me. We’ll sit down there for hours, drinking ice cold beverages and playing board games to the wee hours of the morning. It reminds me of those summers when I was a kid and my family would gather at our home, in our basement there, and games of Rook would be held for hours and hours on end.