COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES:

Muggy: adjective used to describe oppressively humid, damp weather. Synonyms: soggy, sticky, clammy. How hot is it? It’s so hot that — wait — it’s so hot that it’s just, well, too hot. Sorry. That’s the best I can do. It’s too hot.

Have you ever seen anything like this? I’ve never seen anything like this. Even the fair is suffering, with attendance down for the first time in years. As always, the temperature is not the problem; the humidity is the problem. As miserable as it has been, the current heat wave never got within sizzling distance of the record high temp for Newport Beach and Costa Mesa — 107 degrees — on Sept. 26, 1963. Do you remember that? Neither do I. The recent highs have been child’s play compared to that, but the humidity has been brutal. In Newport-Mesa land, most of us notice relative humidity of 35% or more. But for two weeks straight, the relative humidity has been 70% and above, with a number of days at 90% humidity or more.

Sure, we’ve had weather this muggy before, but never for this long. It’s all anyone is talking about. One thing you don’t hear a lot of these days, though, are those snotty remarks about Florida: “It’s so muggy, how can people live there, thought I was going to die,” etc. This might explain it. On Friday, the relative humidity in Newport-Mesa was 82%. In Miami, it was 63%. Baton Rouge? 72%. How about Port Royal, Jamaica? 66%. Caracas, Venezuela? 70%. When you are 12% more humid than Caracas, Venezuela, you are beyond soggy, sticky and clammy, moving up on painful and eventually, deadly. So far the heat wave has claimed more than 130 lives in California, most of them elderly.

Why is humidity such a big deal? Because human beings, which most of us are, cool off by sweating, which we’re not supposed to talk about but sometimes we have to. When the little sweat beads on your skin evaporate in the air around you, your body temperature drops, which is a good thing. But when the air around you is already saturated with moisture, the sweat doesn’t evaporate, your temperature doesn’t drop, which means you sweat even more, which means you get stickier and stickier because it’s not evaporating, which makes you sweat even more. It’s a nightmare.

Speaking of sweat, do you know that cows don’t? Heard that on a report on the heat wave on NPR the other day. When it gets really hot, dairy cows’ production of the white stuff drops by as much as 20%. But when the thermometer climbs past 100 degrees, cows are in trouble, and at 105 and above, they start dropping like flies, only bigger. Just as farmers take all sorts of measures to protect their crops during a frost, dairy farmers and ranchers work overtime to keep their chubby charges cool during a heat wave, including sprinklers and fans. But assuming you’re not a cow, which most of us are not, is there anything you can do to stay cool? Yes there is, you little sweatball you. Don’t thank me, I am a professional; it’s my job.

Concrete and asphalt absorb heat. Avoid areas that have concrete or asphalt, or cows. Speaking of asphalt, there was a time when you could drive around endlessly in your car with the A/C on max but no one can afford that now. Wear loose-fitting, lightweight white clothing, with white underwear, a big floppy white hat and white bucks if you can find them. Air conditioning is helpful. If you don’t have it, get it, or find a friend who does and go there. Don’t call first. Just go there. If you don’t have any friends, go to the movies and stay there. If you’re there alone people will think you’re a loser but that doesn’t matter. Make sure you hydrate, which means drink a lot of water. I would go with twenty 16-ounce glasses a day, assuming you’re never more than 20 seconds from a bathroom. Try pouring every sixth glass down the front of your shirt. That always works. Go easy on the caffeine and alcohol, which dehydrate you, which is not good and makes you even hotter. Learn the signs of heat exhaustion. Being unconscious and not breathing are the most important, but there are others. If you feel feverish or have a rapid pulse, labored breathing, confusion or hallucinations, remove your clothing and go to the movies immediately. If you’re hallucinating, ask someone to check your ticket to make sure you’ve got the right showing.

Will it ever cool off again? I don’t know. It all reminds me of one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes, “The Midnight Sun” with Lois Nettleton. Mr. Serling? You’re on. “One month ago, the earth suddenly changed its elliptical orbit and began to follow a path which gradually, moment by moment, day by day, took it closer to the sun. All of man’s little devices to stir up the air are no longer luxuries — they happen to be pitiful and panicky keys to survival. The time is five minutes to midnight. There is no more darkness. This is the eve of the end because even at midnight it’s high noon on the hottest day in history, and you’re about to spend it … in the Twilight Zone.” It’s just too hot. I gotta go.

Peter Buffa is a former mayor of Costa Mesa. He may be contacted on e-mail on Ptrb4@aol.com.