We know. It's hot. You know what? You don't like it, you can cram it with walnuts. August is when St. Louis separates the Lifers from the short-timers, and the Lifers don't want it any other way. You go to an afternoon Cards game in August, who do you see in the seats? Lifers. Lifers sweating out beer faster than they can suck it down. You go to the park in August, who's out playing Frisbee with the dog and kids? Lifers. Lifers huffing and puffing and collapsing in the shade of the big trees. Lifers mow their own yards in August, they squeeze in one more float trip before school starts, they go to the farmers' markets and they never, ever ask one another, "Hot enough for you?" We know it's hot we don't care. We're Lifers because when it gets pants-wringin' hot, we don't retreat to the air-conditioned sanctuary of our homes; we go out and live our lives. Why? Because it doesn't matter what time of year it is in St. Louis, there's always something you could complain about. "It's too cold, it's too hot, these schools are broken, the highway's jacked up, Willie McGee's not in the Hall of Fame, ad infinitum." So what? You're in St. Louis. Beer's plentiful, we have a lot of green space, we have a world-class symphony, the people are passably good-lookin', we haven't had a citywide power outage in more than six months and it's so damn hot all the crybabies are hiding inside. Lifers, the city belongs to you, but never more so than in August. Enjoy it.