Ben Stein’s Diary
Here I am up in Sandpoint. It is late July and it is hot, hot, hot. Really hot. I slept late, occasionally getting up to look out my window at Lake Pend Oreille. It was calm, dotted with sailboats for an upcoming regatta. There was not a cloud in the sky. Really a fabulous day except for the heat.
Alex and I had breakfast -- my usual, English muffin, eggs, and orange juice-rested, and then started to walk into town. It was too darned hot. After about an hour of walking, I felt short of breath, then desperately short of breath. With aches in my stomach and shoulders. I was only about five minutes from our condo, so I just bravely went to my condo and lay down, wheezing and feeling miserable.