Today I wore a purple cotton golf shirt on our walk around Hyde Park. That was a mistake. In fact, Richard described it as failing to learn lessons I should have learned in Sweaty White Guy 101 — namely, wear an undershirt.
That’s probably true, but I’m not sure an undershirt would have made a significant difference under the circumstances. Today was one of those soupy, ultra-humid days where the air feels like electrically charged steam and thunderstorms roll through every hour or so. I could wear five t-shirts and I’d still be embarrassingly wilted and sweat-stained after walking only a few blocks.
At least Kish and Richard were able to do some Rorschach free-association analysis on the sweat patterns on my shirt. And I would yargue that I didn’t completely flunk Sweaty White Guy 101 — I at least brought some extra shirts.