Not Hollywood sexy hot.
Hot, as in sitting in an oven, hot.
Last night was a record for our neighbours in Burbank as the minimum night temperature was 77F (25C).
Coming from the UK I always said I'd never complain about the heat, so I won't. However even though I won't complain, I never said I wouldn't get scared...
Yesterday we had a power cut late in the afternoon. The house became silent...well apart from the annoying beep from my computer's UPS and the automated phone call from the alarm company. The silence of the air conditioning was unsettling. I even could hear it above the noise created by the long queue of impatient motorists leading to the dark traffic lights.
Our house has a reasonable amount of insulation, so the heat increased gradually, but it was foreboding. Lynn was away in New York and I was to take our boys to see the LA Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl.
I worried that if the power issues spread it would be a catastrophic mistake to be at the Hollywood Bowl. This seems so alien to me. Being scared to go out because of 100mph winds or severe snow storms feel much more natural to me...so much so that I'm not that scared, I have a level of experience and hence over confidence. ;) To be scared of sunshine and heat is still new to me.
I gathered together flash-lights for later and considered not going to the concert. It was going to be a risk even without the heat issue. Our boys might not appreciate the old music of the orchestra or the art of the scheduled dance performance by Diavolo.
Fear sucks. So we went. The boys loved the orchestra and even stayed reasonably quiet, only once asking for more snacks. Then the Diavolo dance performance started. They were totally blown away, completely engaged in the event; the orchestral sound and the acrobatic dance. Especially Lachlan, our 6 year old.
The artists were amazing, though from our seats way back almost at the lip of the bowl, the dancers were almost a blur, even on the large video screens. Mind you perhaps that was for the best, it was so hot that it was probably better that we couldn't see every bead of sweat on all that Lycra.
Within 2 minutes of arriving home, power was returned and our aircon resumed its calming drone. I needn't have worried a jot.
This morning, however, grandiosity got the better of me. I sneakily thought I'd remind Lachlan of the performance as he entered his classroom. He was exhausted and I thought if he told his teacher why, she'd surely understand the value of the experience and cut him a bit of slack. And if his teacher got the idea that I was a great dad, so much the better.
So I asked him what his favourite part of the performance was and he replied, 'The Dancers...did you see? They were naked!' And with that he entered his classroom.
Now I have a new fear, a fear of what my son told his teacher about the hot, naked dancers that Daddy took him to see.