Hot and wet

This Space has as good a time as any other godless space that puts the Earth above men when it comes to giving a friendly noogie inspired by the bleeps, bloops, and blunders of the Republican Party. And lord knows, this curious bunch just keeps on giving and giving and giving when it comes to stuff that honestly gives you pause and makes you say, “Uh—what?”

So I couldn’t help but launch the eenseeist little grin the other day when I realized just where and when this year’s Republican National Convention is goin’ down. If you haven’t heard, our political pachyderms are gonna gather this year from August 27-30 in one of North America’s most truly wretched cities—Tampa, Fla.

Wretched, that is, when you’re talking about late August. I’m a Westerner and totally unfamiliar with the meteorological reality of the South, so it didn’t immediately hit me that the Grand Old Deciders Committee for this year’s shindig may have stepped in a big, fresh, stinky one with this choice. I recently chatted with an old Floridian who lived for years in the Tampa-St. Pete area. she reports that “Tampa in August is basically Hell on Earth.” Meaning, of course, the heat. Meaning the humidity. Especially the bleepity bleep humidity. There are probably more showers taken in the month of August in Tampa than in the other 11 months combined. If we ever send astronauts to Venus, they will likely go to Tampa for late August training.

It would appear that the chances are quite good for delegates from every state west of the mighty Mississip to have at least one moment at the event where they say, “Doggone it, I didn’t bring enough shirts.” Followed quickly by, “I’d like to meet the bleeping chowderhead who gave the green light to have this bash in bleeping Tampa.”

Now, sure, of course they’re gonna always be inside, utterly dependent on the a/c, as is the total norm down there. But you just can’t help but wonder if some Democrat or Libertarian or Green Occupant prankster is at this very moment planning to head on down and fire up some good ole eco-terrorism on some of the gigoonderous Frigidaire units that will be counted upon to keep the Tampa Bay Times Forum filled with 72 degree air throughout this affair. My prediction—messin’ with the a/c in Tampa is gonna be mighty risky business, and no place for amateurs. Republicans know that monkey-wrenchin’ wackos will take total sadistic delight at the sight of extremely bitchy delegates all bogged down in a Category 5 perspiration storm, so they’ll have all a/c units under super paranoid surveillance. Whoever is gonna even think of taking on this assignment had better have it completely together.

That is why the President shouldn’t even leave it to chance. He should just send in Navy Seal Team Six and get the job done right.