How Hot Is It? Let Me Tell You . . .


Since I read a lot of posts complaining about the cold winter last year, while secretly chortling away with Mr. Burns-like laughter, it’s only fair I reveal the darker side of Southwestern living….the summer.

Let me tell you how hot it is. It’s so hot . . .

–For three days in a row now it’s been 115 degrees. And for three days in a row I dreamed of ice fishing in the nude. There has to be a connection.

–I put my running clothes on this morning, took one step outside and lost 10 pounds. Granted it was water weight, but tomorrow I plan on taking two steps, and by the end of the week there’s a good chance 60% of my body will have disappeared and I will emerge as Golem.

–Heat advisories now just recommend an Alaskan vacation.

–Pool parties are Jacuzzi parties with dead mice in the skimmers, after their botched attempts to drink…something…anything.

–It feels like you’re watching the second season of True Detective. Once outside you become confused and disoriented; you forget the names of people around you and can’t keep track of your life’s narrative, unable to recall why you live here in the first place . . . Oh yeah, because last winter was like the first season of True Detective when it made perfect sense.

–Everyone I come across is zombie-like and can’t be bothered with pace. I was in a 40-minute wait line at the post office. In NY, where winter storms invite fistfights over the last can of beans, a brawl would have broken out. But all of us in line knew our cars had turned into an Easy Bake oven and no one wanted to leave the cool 68 degrees safety zone with perfectly good Wifi and Kenny G playing. When the postal employee yelled, “Next,” people just waved her off and grunted.

–Birds spontaneously fall out of the sky.

–I’ve acquired third degree burns from the plastic and metal parts of my car. I wasn’t foolish enough to get a leather interior. In Phoenix, that’s like a hot dog telling a 7-11 clerk it wants a ride on that cool spinny thing. No, no. But when you get cloth, you forget about the other stuff, like the ignition, seat belts, and steering wheel. You know, necessary contact stuff in order to avoid collisions. And good Lord, never leave chapstick in between the console. All I need is a wick to make a candelabrum for Frankenstein.

–I heard someone humming “It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes” in the checkout line, and I hummed along with him until the cashier joined in. The bagger thought he was being punked.

–When you grocery shop, people just eat the pint of ice cream in the parking lot. No sense in wasting a perfectly good milkshake.

–When my older kids come home from the school, I have 20 minutes to lecture them about grades, food pyramids, sex ed, and skincare without sass-back or eye rolls before their heat comas wear off and their faux teenage outrage returns.

–Everywhere you go, water stations for humans and dogs are set up in businesses like first aid booths at a Knife Throwing convention. Want to classy it up and double your cost in services? Throw in some cucumbers – double your profits. (Note: Writers can’t afford these establishments. But we know it’s just hipster water anyway.)

Finally, the other day I was in a ladies room when I was propositioned for a bottle of water by a slumped over Midwesterner on vacation. I obliged and told her, “Next time splurge on airfare in February. I know it only costs $50 to fly into Phoenix right now. But there’s a reason. Cah-peesh? Fly home, my little snow bird. Fly home. This is no place for you until mid-October.”

“But I thought y’all said it was a dry heat?”

“That’s just what we say to relatives back East so we can feel superior year-round.”

She is probably overlooking Lake Michigan now, blogging about how hot it is here.

To that I say, “We’ll see who’s laughing in winter. We. Will. See.”

Stay cool!


23 thoughts on “How Hot Is It? Let Me Tell You . . .

  1. ramonawray

    Hey, this is a new side of you 🙂 (Or maybe I haven’t read your blog for long enough…) You’re not just a poet, you’re also funny as heck. Clever-funny, the best kind of funny there ever was 🙂 Great post – I feel your pain, we’ve been struggling though 106 degrees here for many, many days. It’s unusually hot and of course people don’t know how to cope. They fall on the streets like flies. It’s terrible. Ice-fishing in the nude sounds so appealing!

    1. desertdweller29

      Wow! 106 in Romania! Well I can definitely sympathize. You know I’ve never been but it’s on my list. I’ll make a note not to visit in summer!

      Yes, I like all kinds of writing. Poetry is actually my newest obsession. My reading selections on my Kindle suggests multiple personalities.

      Loved your grammar post today! Shows the importance of good punctuation.

  2. FictionFan

    I genuinely don’t understand how you survive! If it goes above 70 I turn into a greasy blob and start dreaming of snow. If it hits 80, I hibernate – darkened room and a huge supply of ice lollies. I spent three weeks with relations in Ontario one July and could only think I was being punished for sins committed in a previous life! And I think that was only somewhere in the 90s. Do be careful – especially with those chapsticks! It’s too hot to run away from Frankenstein…

  3. Debbie

    Oh, golly, thanks for the reminder, DD. I used to live in Texas, and there were plenty of times it was still in the 90s when the late news came on! I don’t think I could tolerate three consecutive days of 115! Dry heat or not, that stuff just SUCKS the life out of you. I’m probably among the first to complain about our Midwest snow and cold, but you know you can put ON clothes — there’s only so much you can take OFF!!

  4. walt walker

    After four days years in Ohio, I’ve learned that heat is better than cold. I will take weeks of 100+ weather over weeks of sub-zero weather any time. Like right now, for example. I’m still dreading the onset of winter, even though I know that’s irrational. There won’t be one now that I’m back in Texas. But I can’t shake the mindset.

  5. Don Royster

    Do what the Canadians do. Come to Florida for the summer. It rains everyday. It only gets in the nineties. We have Disney. And we have a Republican governor so it will feel just like you’re home. And unlike earthquakes, you can see a hurricane coming.

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