Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.
CP: Odd how cold I often am, even on summer’s most sweltering days. At the office, I need a little slip-on upper-arm sweaterlet. Which might not look that ultra-masculine.
RN: Who cares? On the days when the temperature at our workplace is positively meat locker-like — basically May through October — I find myself daydreaming about afghans. And space heaters.
CP: We could have minor surgeries done here at the newspaper in July, without the burdensome expense of anesthesia. At home, meanwhile, Mr. Green Jeans has the thermo set at 79, so that I might wake up each night in a puddle of, well, perspiration.
RN: If we’re talking puddles and sleep, for your sake I’m relieved to know that it’s perspiration-driven.
CP: If I weren’t shivering all winter or sweating away the summer weeks, I suppose I could pause to praise June, with its prime pleasure: open windows flooding one’s sleeping chambers with temperate nighttime air. Air conditioning makes me feel mildly ill all the time.
RN: Same here. I’m grateful, yet its canned quality also tends to make me a little bit nuts.
CP: I would make a terrible Houstonian.
RN: Ditto. My thin Nordic blood can barely manage our few weeks of punishing heat indexes. My childhood home was A/C-free until I was 17. How did we survive?