boring to read

Posted by Indy Sean from 24-168-39-112.nyc.rr.com on April 22, 2001 at 20:02:11:

In Reply to: Kam Napier posted by Micah on April 22, 2001 at 18:15:18:

: Heat. Humidity. Those are why I deserve to own the first U.S. Wings Cotton Indy Jacket. Because I cannot
: wear leather here in subtropical Honolulu. Not goat skin, nor lambskin, nor plain old cow. There's too much
: ... heat. Humidity. Day after day.

: Not the heat of a Thuggee sacrificial lava pit.
:
: That's a dry heat.

: No, I mean the kind of stewing, sticky mugginess of a South American jungle. You say Indy could handle
: jungle mugginess? There he was in 1936, swaddled in leather, whip-flicking that gun out Barranca's hand
: in a veritable mist of rain forest steam. Too true.

: But, do you know why Indy is scowling as he steps into the light? Is it because he was just nearly gunned
: down?

: No. It's because he's wearing a leather jacket. In the middle of a jungle. That's abuse to which only an
: actor with an air conditioned trailer might consent.

: For a year now, I've lurked on the Indyfan Forum, reading with vicarious joy as one after another of you
: bought your Indy jackets---beautiful, leather Indy jackets---to wear in comfort as the seasons of your
: homelands permit. Crisp fall days. Winter's chill. Cool spring rains.

: Then there's me. Bereft in the midst of eternal summer. Just hoping, waiting, for a light, breathable cotton
: version of the Indy jacket to fall from the sky as if by the will of Shiva.

Follow Ups:

Boring to read? Indiana Jas 21:40:09 4/22/2001 (1)
- goes on and on (nm) Indy Sean 23:31:53 4/22/2001 (0)

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: : Heat. Humidity. Those are why I deserve to own the first U.S. Wings Cotton Indy Jacket. Because I cannot
: :       wear leather here in subtropical Honolulu. Not goat skin, nor lambskin, nor plain old cow. There's too much
: :       ... heat. Humidity. Day after day.

: :       Not the heat of a Thuggee sacrificial lava pit.
: : 
: :       That's a dry heat.

: :       No, I mean the kind of stewing, sticky mugginess of a South American jungle. You say Indy could handle
: :       jungle mugginess? There he was in 1936, swaddled in leather, whip-flicking that gun out Barranca's hand
: :       in a veritable mist of rain forest steam. Too true.

: :       But, do you know why Indy is scowling as he steps into the light? Is it because he was just nearly gunned
: :       down?

: :       No. It's because he's wearing a leather jacket. In the middle of a jungle. That's abuse to which only an
: :       actor with an air conditioned trailer might consent.

: :       For a year now, I've lurked on the Indyfan Forum, reading with vicarious joy as one after another of you
: :       bought your Indy jackets---beautiful, leather Indy jackets---to wear in comfort as the seasons of your
: :       homelands permit. Crisp fall days. Winter's chill. Cool spring rains.

: :       Then there's me. Bereft in the midst of eternal summer. Just hoping, waiting, for a light, breathable cotton
: :       version of the Indy jacket to fall from the sky as if by the will of Shiva.

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