While in New Orleans with friends for JazzFest many years ago, I saw a T-shirt I wish now I had bought. The message was simply, "It's not the HEAT, it's the STUPIDITY." It's July in the South. We feel the heat, and we're accustomed to it . . . have become more durable in it over generations. What we're not handling well is the humidity. Humidity scrambles our brains like so many egg yolks, disconnects the synapses ensuring sound judgment.

I felt it yesterday, when a dysfunctional acquaintance tried to manipulate me by calling upon a dear friend and business associate to change my mind about a point of principle. The manipulator didn't call me directly, of course. He preyed upon a higher power--someone whose friendship I cherish, a person of sound reputation and pure heart. In her goodness, she was attempting to moderate a peaceful settlement.

Perhaps she didn't notice that my hair is red and this man's face was, too. While I admire her courage in entering a vat of fury threatening to turn us all into butter, I must believe it was the humidity that clouded not only her judgment in the matter, but also ours.

After a sound night's sleep, I see, fortunately, that she didn't want principle to stand in the way of having this oaf "owe" her a favor--one she'd been ruminating over for many months. This hot moment presented a chance to win and she took it. I'm not boiling any more; I'm laughing, raising my latté this morning in her honor!

Yeah, I'm feeling slightly stupid, but what's not to love about a survivor able to make the butter congeal in this heat?

Happy July to all, and have a splendid day!