Famous writers: in the summer, they sweat just like us; they just write about it a lot more eloquently. From deep in the New Yorker archives (okay, 1998) comes this marvelous short essay by Arthur Miller, in which he reminisces about Depression-era dog days that were?gasp?before air-conditioning. His family escaped to a Rockaway bungalow, but others would sleep in Central Park or on their fire escapes to get through the night: "The city in summer floated in a daze that moved otherwise sensible people to repeat endlessly the brainless greeting "Hot enough for ya? Ha-ha!" It was like the final joke before the meltdown of the world in a pool of sweat." He first felt the sweet, sweet breeze of A/C at the embattled Hotel Chelsea, of all places. Go on, read the whole piece. [NY; photo via MCNY]
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