Hot hot hawt.

The temperature goes up and up. Toledo tied its own record high (93, from 1962) yesterday. Youngstown broke its 1988 record (88) by one degree today. Once the rising day made it too uncomfortable to stay in bed reading any more Dickens or Virgil (the green sheets no longer crisp, the breeze no longer cool), I undertook two most difficult tasks: walking very slowly on my way to town through our humid-hazy, palpably thick afternoon, and cleaning my refrigerator. Every single food-stuff in my refrigerator at this moment is safe for consumption. Some of you will grasp fully just how triumphant I feel, being able to write those words. I was even going to take a picture for you, but I decided that that would be overkill, as it were.

While I could offer any number of hot-day reflections, I have houseguests tonight (with whom I'm road-tripping to my family and the deaf dog tomorrow, and then! Hem! on Thursday!). And so, rather than be rude to them by telling full-out stories now, I'll just leave some words to mark places in the backs of your heads for things I'll tell you later: Fla•Vor•Ice. Siestas (genius). Green percale. Heat drowsiness. Factory Gatorade.

And can I just tell you: my friends showed up tonight with a Making Fiends bumper sticker on their car. "Making Fiends!" I cried. Turns out they just received their t-shirts this morning, as they were leaving town. So now the three of us could go out in our Making Fiends shirts--and none of us would duplicate the others, for we have Giant Kitty, Vendetta, and Scissor Fiend among us. Delightful, truly delightful.

Because I'm not offering you much in the way of substantial reflection, here's the latest from the LRB (25 May). Once again, I think they've chosen the wrong winner. As always, click the images to enlarge them.

I'll wave at the Hell is Real billboards for you tomorrow; some of my student-athletes have told me that there are now four billboards in that sequence. Since I won't be driving, I might even be able to catch them for you. It will be my goal--nay, my duty--for the trip.