As if to prove that I very often need to learn my life lessons more than once, today the Mexican sun burned the living shit out of me and quietly murmured in my ear (use a Mexican accent when you read this),
“Ha, ju stupido Gringo, eet ees the meedle of the day in sommer and ju ar jomping in thee son, time to burn and soffer ju foolish fool!!!” It then proceeded to dish out its abundance of hot stuff all over my exposed skin.
You would think after numerous burns and experiences with hot days in the last thirty three years I would by now have figured out that it gets hot in summer, especially at midday, but that is not the case. Especially because I wanted to make the most of what I thought was a good wind and go kite my paramotor wing on the beach, damn the consequences and damn the Mexican sun with its silly accent!
So Sarah and I packed a cooler with coke light and water (the essentials), chucked a beach umbrella and chair in the car, and headed down to our hidden beach where I have been flying my Paramotor from.
It was of course very hot, but knowing better than every bit of information I have ever been given, read, or seen on TV, I walked out into the blazing sun while Sarah sat under her umbrella, and proceeded to kite my Paramotor wing for about two long, hot, hours.
Now I did apply a bit of sunscreen before leaving the house ( I hate sunscreen, it is disgustingly greasy and yuck) so where I should be a melted mess of poeple goo, I am only a bit burned and dehydrated, but, at the end of that two hours I had a sudden crash when the intense heat suddenly sapped all my strength, and I could barely pack my paraglider wing away before collapsing into a horrible heap of messy sweat.
My mouth was as dry as an uprooted cactus in the driest desert in all the land, and my skin was reddening like Ra’s dying rays above a water less landscape of nothing but infinite dunes for as far as the eye can see. All about me vultures circled as I dug my torn fingers into the scorching sand and crawled inch by inch to nowhere, praying for a caravan of camels to pass by with friendly Middle Eastern riders carrying a refrigerator full of coke light and calorie free chocolate cake (I’m kinda on a diet).
Then Sarah said “Go get the umbrella”, and I woke from my heat induced fugue, climbed into the air conditioned car, and thanked the Lord above for saving me from my own stupidity by supplying me with a remarkably clever invention (does anyone know how air conditioners work? That is some serious witch craftery if you ask me) and a can of Coke Light.
Here now for your viewing pleasure, is the product of my sacrifice. A short video of me kiting on the beach while the Red Hot Chilli Peppers do a live set slightly off screen, the whole time. Enjoy.
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