THE DOG DAYS OF THE ENDLESS SUMMER, BUT SURF CITY WHERE ARE YOU?

For years I have sworn that I was going to air condition the shop areas at VintageFans.com in Fort Worth. Most of the time the heat is not a problem, because after all we are a vintage fan business and we have some of the best machines ever manufactured cooling the shop during spring, summer, and most of the fall here in Texas. Besides that, our commercial shop location happens to have a very deep and large pond (Texans call them tanks) directly behind our facilities and it aides in the cooling effect, 'a la the original "Swamp Cooler".  Often durning the summer months the winds move up from the south bringing the cooler "evaporative cooled" pond air directly into the shop. This "swamp" cooled air is assisted by a couple of large 1950s window fans, one an Emerson 16" and the other a ducted Vornado, that allows you to receive instant "air conditioning" when the temps stay below the 95 degree mark. The shop stays very comfortable for most of the year, even during most of our summers. We usually have a couple of weeks of 100 degree days, with the air drying out the higher the temperature climbs, allowing you to feel not as hot as say, Memphis, Tennessee. But this year has been one of those years that I remind myself that I should have, as Andy Taylor of Mayberry fame would say, "call the man" and have air conditioning units installed. Of course, by this time its too late, it's like needing a storm shelter when you are watching the approaching Tornado. We are in it now and we just have to "experience" what it was like working on antique and vintage fan motors in an electric motor shop 50 to 100 years ago. I honestly do not know how those folks "weathered" the heat, most of them without any assistance that fans or air conditioning brings. I guess we know one reason why the life expectancy was so short back then! Usually on really hot summers, about the time you are at your wits' end, the temperatures moderate and we are back in the 90s and all is well in Texas. This year we are quickly approaching that point, but we know that September is just around the corner.

 Loving all things vintage, we have a cool shop advertising thermometer circa 1950s or 60s made by the Pam Clock Company, that is always dead on accurate (as with nearly all things vintage American made, another story, another time). This particular thermometer advertises the Sprague company, who built capacitors by the time this thermometer was built, but who also had a ancestral lineage to the fan motor world as far back as the 1890s. The other day, the temperature on our "Sprague" thermometer read 105 inside the shop! Instantly, our 1950s Vornado pedestal fans began to feel like convection ovens and I briefly heard Andy Taylor telling Aunt Bee to "call the man", all as I drank what seemed like my 50th Gatorade and 200th Ozarka! As this was the end of the day, I thought about how drained I was by the Texas heat and questioned my sanity. What in the world am I doing? This is nuts! Cursing the Texas heat, dousing my face with water and remembering those pleasant days of summer, the summers of my youth, when life was care free and responsibilities a minimum. Ahh.... for the days of listening to Jan Berry and Dean Torrence tell me that "Summer Means Fun" and knowing that they were telling me the truth. After all  back then when school let out,  it was "our version" of "Surf City" here we come (Myrtle Beach, S.C.) where we witnessed "Drag City" on the boulevard and learned that "Little Deuce Coupes"and "Three Window Coupes" were the toughest machines in town. Life was a beach, for real and the days were filled with ocean breezes, hot rods and endless summers ahead where we thought "Surf City" would last forever. As with most romantic dreams of youth, it didn't and as I did our typical shut down walk through the shop turning off all the equipment, fans, and lights, I wondered who would last longer, me or this endless summer. As I locked my office, turned on the floods and grabbed one more water for the road, I secured the dead bolts and headed to my truck, where at last I could experience "civilization" again. Thoroughly drained I engaged the key hoping to only here an engine and strong fan of the air conditioning, and that's when it happened. All at once, in my defeated state and at the precise second of engaging the key, I heard the instrumentals begin even before the artists name appeared on Sirius Satellite Channel 6 screen, as"Ride the Wild Surf" by Jan and Dean greeted me and as I looked up into the rear view mirror, a broad smile came over my face. My whole mood changed as I belted out the chorus, and knew I would be ready for the next work week. Life is good!