IF YOU CAN'T STAND THE HEAT ... WELL, TOUGH!

If you can't stand the heat...tough!

SUMMARY: Floridians are impervious to heat, and new residents demand constant air conditioning.

My friend Monica, walked into our office Monday, dropped her briefcase with disgust and quipped: "It's so hot, the chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs!"

Oh...my...lord.

How about this, Monica? "It's so hot, my dearest friends not only feel compelled to remind me about it but also insist on quoting obscure, redneck philosophy."

Not as clever, sure, but I make my point. I'm not sure why people must talk constantly about the heat. I'm not even sure why all the major newspapers and television networks are doing stories on it. Does it really help? Does anyone really not know how bad it is out there?

But why should everyone else get to do all the griping? It's absolutely unbearable out there. I can't even make it across the garage and into my air-conditioned car before the beads of perspiration form on my face. The life span of a freshly pressed cotton shirt is about 30 seconds. And my Odor Eaters walked out on me last week. They said they weren't that hungry.

At least here in sunny Florida (motto: If the gators don't get you, the killer mold will), people are able somehow to beat the heat. Not one Floridian appeared on the list of heat wave victims I saw last week.

There's a reason for that. Natives like to pretend that it's not that hot. And new residents refuse to walk 10 feet from an air-conditioning vent. It's the only way to survive.

Still, even though I don't fear I'll lose my life to the heat, I do feel as though this unbearable weather is a terrible burden. For example ...

-- It is so humid that my glasses actually steam up every time I exit my home, office or vehicle. I've rubbed about an eighth-inch off the lens just trying to see! It's like having surprise cataracts five times a day.

-- A source for one of my stories asked if I could come to her house for our interview.

"Do you have air conditioning?" I asked.

"I've got ceiling fans," she replied.

"You'll have to come here," I said.

Let me tell you how serious I am about this. If Ricky Martin called me and said he wanted some nude photographs taken, I wouldn't go over there before confirming his air-conditioning status.

-- Overwhelmed by a sudden urge to lose about 100 pounds, I decided to go for a brisk walk at 10 p.m. Surely it wouldn't be too hot that late at night, right?

I got about five blocks from my home when I realized I probably wasn't going to make it back. My T-shirt was wringing wet. My glasses were sliding down my nose. I sounded like an asthmatic at a ragweed convention.

Left with no other choice, I walked another block to the home of a night-owl friend of mine. She gave me air conditioning, iced tea and a ride home.

-- I went to an elementary school to interview the principal -- a Florida native. She was on bus duty when I arrived, and made it clear from her lack of movement toward the schoolhouse door that she intended the interview be done in the bus loading zone, OUT OF THE AIR CONDITIONING.

My notes were actually blurred by the sweat dripping off my chin. The principal didn't even produce a light sheen, and she was wearing a suit.

"Uh, do you have a bathroom I could use?" I asked. She pointed me indoors.

I put the lid down on the toilet, sat and rubbed a cool, wet towel across my face for about 15 minutes. I figured I'd wait her out -- she'd have to come in sometime to get her purse.

Of course, it won't be like this forever. The upside to Florida life is winter.

That's when I get to laugh at you Midwesterners about the snow.