It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity, says everyone who won’t admit it’s both, but even deep in June you need a coat in Kroger, which I did not remember the morning after my cousin Hope won $200 for the beating the crap out of a woman onstage at Blanchard’s. I used to worship her, older, taller, tougher, my very own ego’s fog machine. It was a week of new laws, headlines reading Wine in Groceries, Guns on Campus, both sides still buzzing, righteous, both sides a little bit appeased.