The joke around the office is that I am the literal temperature control police. And, I assume that this badge comes my way legitimately. I don’t like the way people yank the dang temperature control around to please the whims of the few. I got the heating and cooling police moniker because I had the maintenance folks put a clear plastic box over it with a padlock. No more misusing the heater and A/C. So, at the Christmas gathering, my Secret Santa gift was a temperature gun. Everyone got a great big hoot and I found the present to be truly clever indeed. I even went around the office measuring the temperature in unusual zones of the office. But, I took it to my lake house and kind of forgot about it. That is until a high school buddy showed up unexpectedly one weekend. He and I once got into all kinds of wild adventures back in grade school. Our personalities just click that way but, it might have had more to do with the alcohol intake. Once again, he and I found ourselves perhaps a bit over-buzzed when he found the temperature gun. You would have thought he found a gold brick. The man began taking the temperature of literally anything he could find. The oven, the microwave and the toaster were the first to make the cut. Then, it was outside to take nature’s temperature. He was a wild man indeed. Unfortunately, he then shot the temp gun at one of my entry doors to my dismay. I could not even believe the amount of heat which came pouring from this closed door. My first thought was to get my temperature control badge and find the culprit and bring them to justice. But, the culprit was me alone. I had been putting off weatherstipping the doors for years. My gag gift and my drunk school friend were the kick in the butt I needed.