Since yet another heat advisory has been issued in the DFW area for the rest of the week (heat index is expected to be between 105-110), I though it was time to pull this one out of the archives…
1. The inability to think.
It’s hard to concentrate when your eyeballs are sizzling in your skull. When you’re sitting there in the car with your partner, trying not to move because merely blinking your eyes can cause you to break out into a sweat, even with the AC on super max, you don’t need mental distractions. Don’t ask me where I want to eat lunch. I’m not the tiniest bit interested in that. I’m focused on trying to breathe.
And don’t get all cranky, just because you think I don’t care about anything you might have to say right now. I am not ignoring you. I am choosing to have priorities, and you just don’t happen to be one of them right now. When it cools off, or the sun finally explodes, I will be more than happy to have a discussion. Until then, don’t jeopardize your life by asking if the new paint for the guest bedroom should be Tuscan Potato or Zanzibar Sunset.
2. Touching anything metal while outside leads to a flesh wound.
There’s nothing quite like the immobilizing pain you can experience by strolling out onto the veranda of the latest hip bistro, and then lowering yourself into one of the expensive, trendy deck chairs that some fool decided should be make out of wrought iron. That smell in the air? It’s not the soup of the day. It’s the charred skin peeling off your body. Be sure to order an extra margarita, because when you eventually stand back up, part of you won’t. And it will hurt.
And good luck getting into your car and driving home. First, you’ve got to find the vehicle in the parking lot. This is tricky enough in Dallas, where everyone buys the same kind of car, and you end up with 47 yellow Hummers lined up like you just wandered into a car dealership. Now, add in the cooking asphalt, which is sending up those weird waves of shimmery gases that distort your vision. You can’t see squat, feeling like you’re trapped in a Federico Fellini movie, where voices fade in and out while bizarre things happen to clowns.
Once you finally locate your car, do not touch the exterior of the vehicle without wearing protective gloves. Otherwise, your hand will liquefy, making the operation of the vehicle a little more difficult. When you finally manage to get the door open, do not immediately jump inside or you will instantly vaporize. Let some of the demon heat escape. If possible, pay passersby to climb in first and report back when the atmosphere has stabilized.
When you receive access clearance, the first thing you need to do is turn the AC all the way up. Yes, this means there will be a few minutes of a blast furnace burning all your hair off, but it’s just the price you have to pay. You’ve got to get that puppy working full strength or you are going to die. Once your nose hairs stop popping and crackling, put that thing in drive and get the hell out of there.
3. The miserable air pollution gets even worse.
It’s already an established fact that the air quality in the DFW area is full of major suckage. Thousands of semi-trucks lumbering around, hauling cargo to all the Wal-Marts, so we can rush in and buy pointless things that we don’t really need. And, of course, it’s a state law that everyone else must drive huge 2-ton pick-up trucks or SUVs. (Anybody caught driving one of those pansy Mini-Coopers will immediately be ostracized and never again invited to the best parties.) Poisonous fumes fill the sky.
So when you add in the triple-digit heat, the simple act of walking out your front door becomes an ill-considered act of self-mutilation. Within two steps, the gelid air has coated your skin, making everything slimy and unsatisfying. Now you understand what Karen Silkwood felt like, poor thing. Get done what needs to get done, then get your ass back in the house. Shower for at least 30 minutes, cold water only.
4. The air conditioner never shuts off. Ever.
There’s that incessant drone that never goes away. No matter where you are in the house or what you are doing, you can hear the unit churning away, trying desperately to feebly pump slightly-cool air through the structure. Turn on every fan you have and pray for nightfall.
And try not to think about the electric bill. Any time something runs for that length of time, day after day, there’s going to be a financial impact. There’s not much you can do about it, so try to focus on other things. Like which of your relatives has proven to be the least worthwhile in your life, and therefore could be sold for some ready cash when that hefty bill arrives on your doorstep with a heavy thunk.
5. Those dumb-ass misters on restaurant patios.
These things are only acceptable when you’re drunk, and therefore you don’t care or don’t even notice that you are being continually spritzed. When you’re sober, they are completely annoying. It’s hard to have an important, gossip-filled conversation when you are constantly having to rinse and spit. And moisture on your food? Really, other than a certain kinky subset of the population (no judgement intended), who wants their buns wet?
6. Rude people actually ratchet up their heinous skills.
Obnoxious people already have self-control issues. Apparently, in their twisted world, an increase in temperature corresponds to an increase in their ability to offend the population in general. We’re all already suffering, folks, there’s no need for the attitude and the aggressive actions that just make us want to rip your spleen out.
This is where our elected representatives should pass legislation. I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to walk up to a police officer and say “That person over there? The one waving around the latest iPhone in a bid for validation, sporting one of those Amish beards that are mystifyingly trendy with the vapid hipsters of the world, wearing a ‘Make America Great Again’ ballcap, and using a selfie-stick to take pictures of himself eating a gyro? There’s no reason for him to exist.” At which point the officer will immediately handcuff Millennial Mike and haul him away to some place where it’s dark, people cry, and he’ll expect a trophy just for showing up but he won’t get one.
7. Some complete stranger will eventually ask that ultra-annoying question.
“Is it hot enough for you?”
What kind of asinine query is that? What response are you expecting? “No, I want it to get SO hot that my testicles drag the floor and chickens explode spontaneously.” Go back to whatever small town you came from and accuse everyone involved in your upbringing of malpractice and malfeasance. It won’t do any good, but at least you won’t be in Dallas anymore.
8. Certain Southern Women who insist on wearing three inches of makeup when it’s 112 degrees.
Do you not understand that this makes you look like you just escaped from Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum? Seriously, honey, stop spackling your face with Bisquick every time you leave the house. At some point, your body is going to completely shut down because your skin can’t breathe. When was the last time you’ve actually seen yourself naked? 1947?
9. Moist loins.
And not the good kind. There is just something fundamentally dehumanizing about walking around the town square with wet underwear. I don’t care if Pottery Barn just got a new shipment of scented futons. I’m really not invested in the updated menu at Red Lobster, despite the allure of the cheese biscuits. (Not kidding, those biscuits give me visions.) And I think I’ll live if we don’t get to see Cleopatra’s bidet at the Dallas Museum of Art.
I just want to go somewhere that I can pull this SpongeBob wedgie out of my crack and remember what it was like to not make squishing sounds when I walk. That’s all I ask. In the paraphrased words of Johnny Lee on the “Urban Cowboy” soundtrack, I’m lookin’ for dry in all the right places…
10. Beer does not stay cold.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, trumps all. There is no surer sign of the Apocalypse than lukewarm beer. Get out while you still can…
Originally published in “The Sound and the Fury” and “Bonnywood Manor”. No revisions made from the previous version. Story behind the photo: Yet another snap from Spain, a random bit of detail topping the wall around our swimming pool in the condo at Cuevas del Becerro on our first visit to said country. It reminds me of Stonehenge, and therefore the sun, and there you have it…
Mark-of-the-beast bit of trivia: That last revision? It was blog post number 666 here on Bonnywood. (And no, I did NOT plan it that way…)
Categories: 10 Reasons Why
I’ll trade places with you. Seriously. I’m better in the heat than the cold.
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There was a time when neither extreme bothered me all that much. But as I continue to decay, I find that I’m not fond of extremes, period. I want the temperature to be in the low 80s, forever. Am I asking too much?
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Probably! 🙂
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You need to come to Scotland. Yes, It did almost get to 70F that day we had summer, but thankfully we’re past that heatwave for this year. So if one’s undergarments are damp, the weather won’t be the cause. (Of course, the beer IS often warm here.)
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And actually, I don’t really mind warm beer, much to the chagrin of my partner who expects his libations to be borderline frozen. But yes, I should come to Scotland. Please advise what day next year will constitute your summer season… 😉
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“No, I want it to get SO hot that my testicles drag the floor and chickens explode spontaneously.”
Question: Are the chickens exploding BECAUSE your testicles are dragging on the floor?
Also, this is why I live in Tasmania – middle of the road weather in any season, maybe a day or 2 of hot(ish) weather and cold(ish) weather – but generally tolerable in all seasons.
Disclaimer: actually that is not the real reason why I live here …. the real reason i live here is because I was born here and I am not one to leave paradise when I have found it.
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You might have a point. Perhaps my testicle-dragging does not bode well for the poultry industry. Perhaps I should have someone study the implications.
That aside, you do continue to intrigue me with your visions of Tasmanian Nirvana. Perhaps I should work a little harder on convincing Partner that we really need to visit down yonder. (He’s focused on Europe.) All I know, for sure, is that I am NOT staying in Texas for the rest of my life. It’s not fair… 😉
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Europe, smeorupe (apologies to Europeans), you need to vist the NEW country, hehe. I guess it depends on what you want in a holiday. If you want sophisticate debauchery and nightlige not sure that Tassie is the place (but since I don’t live in that scene there may be hidden gems I know not of). If you want good food, good air, great scenery – then we are it.
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Oh good. I thought we were the only ones who walked about in underwear soaked in perspiration.
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Nope, moist undergarments proliferate everywhere. It’s the tie that binds us all… 😉
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It would be unkind of me to tell you that here in Seattle it’s 68 degrees and I’ve just donned a sweater because of the soft breeze coming through my window. So I won’t.
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I’m not Brian, but I seriously sort of hate you right now. This is Utah and it’s only slightly cooler than the hellish climes where he posts from. (sigh). But we don’t have the HUMIDITY, although that’s cold comfort (to me!)
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Ah, Melanie, I feel your pain. If it’s any consolation (and it won’t be), as the day advanced, our temps rose to the mid-70s. I have removed my sweater. My comfort is knowing that temperatures always drop into the 50s at night, so we will have a pleasantly cool evening (again, I am sorry!). After reading your comment below, I suspect you and I could have an enjoyable afternoon of conversation. Thanks, Brian, for facilitating this introduction.
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Donna and Melanie: I’m thrilled that the two of you have made a connection. It warms the heart. Go forth and congregate. At the same time, I am a little bit bitter about the two of you living in cooler climes, but I’ll do my best to focus on the positive aspects of this match-making opportunity…. 😉
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Uh, ‘cooler clime’ is relative. It’s supposed to get up to at least 110 next week up here. I can’t imagine what St. George must be like (St. George is in the middle of Utah and during the summer is triple digits all the time (even at night sometimes). Ugh. But I’ll take the compliment all the same! 😉
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This will be lengthy. You’re finally back in orbit and I must grab my celebrations where I can.
1. Sadly the inability to think isn’t limited to those frying in their own body fat. An immense percentage of earth’s population (location not important) can’t think. They were perhaps raised to eschew thought, because it might lead to world peace, equality, kindness or compassion. This sad demographic includes those who worship t-dump, those who think the world is flat, and others like them. They walk among us in all countries and all climes (not the t-dump people. Those idiots are America’s. Sad as that is).
2. Some folks actually enjoy pain. Now why those same people don’t exclusively live in places such as Texas, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico etc etc is evidence that God has a wicked sense of the absurd.
3. Thinning of the herd. “Man” is perhaps the one animal that could use more of that. Air pollution might be one solution.
4. A/C (thank goodness for it. I don’t know how I, personally survived in those summers of long ago when all we had was a window fan that sometimes worked. But I was younger then and more tolerant.). It is spendy, but when compared to having melting skin, damp sticky underwear, such bad bodily odor that flies actually avoid one (none of these apply to ME btw), and all the other ills that extremely high temperatures visit on the populace, who wouldn’t pay? Hawk their first born and/or Ol’ Blue the family dog? Murder any wealthy relative they might have to pay for A/C?
5. We don’t got no misters in Yew-Tah. Least not at the cheap ass restaurants I’m forced to patronize IF I wanna eat out these days. They might have them ‘up the canyon(s)’, where the temperature is generally a LOT cooler and the idea of a mister is unnecessary, but the beautiful people must have the latest thing I suppose.
6. I went on a bus trip with the local seniors from our center. There is one stick bird woman (you know them, you’ve seen them, the old girls look like a dolly fashioned from beef jerky and twine. They’re scrawny, irritable because their flesh is slowly choking them to death, and so full of energy it makes sane people twitchy to watch them) who inevitably goes on these same short road trips. Her bladder is apparently more constricted than mine (well hell it’s made of beef jerky and twine, neither of which hold much liquid) and she always beats me to the restroom. These restrooms inevitably have ONE toilet and a locking door (I’m for the locking door part). This old broad spends roughly half an hour in there. On this particular road trip it was 110 in the freakin’ shade and I consumed mass quantities of water and any beverage I could lay my hands on. Of course I had to PEE. So I’d be waiting impatiently for grandma to finish squeezing her drops of rain out of her dried up old cootchie. If things got urgent I might be guilty of banging on the door and inquiring if she’d fallen in and should I summon help? She came out of one such stop, gave me a weak ass evil stare of death and proclaimed me “RUDE!”. I told her she was SLOW and her ‘crime’ was worse than mine. Sometimes rude is justified. I wish the old bitch would buy herself a catheter and a leg bag.
7. People are stupid. Stupid people should remain mute, but alas, they won’t. Aren’t you grateful for the short answer on this one?
8. That phenomenon isn’t limited to Southern Women. Some women, in all sorts of places, Spackle themselves with Revlon Foundation #5, whatever the weather and spend a lot of their time trying (vainly) to get makeup out of their raw silk blouses and off other people’s persons. The other people don’t appreciate the ‘share the joy’ effort put in either.
9. I can testify that moistness of loins isn’t always a welcome thing. Old(er) women know precisely what I’m talking about, because cough or sneeze unexpectedly and you suddenly have dew in your drawers. Not welcome, not welcome AT ALL! 😐
10. Neither do carbonated beverages of all sorts, tea (iced of course. We aren’t insane up in here), fruit punch, water or any other drinkable beverage. If the stuff is SUPPOSED to be hot it’ll become tepid, which defeats the whole purpose. (only an insane person drinks hot beverages in extremely hot weather, despite the old rumor that ‘it really COOLS you off!!, put about by such persons as drink hot beverages when the sun has come to earth, literally).
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Holy crap this made me howl as much as Brian’s post. #6 has to be one of the funniest things I’ve ever read.
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Brian is patient. I often ‘hijack’ his comments section with my wordy responses. 😉 Glad you enjoyed! 😀
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Melanie: Once again, you have me rolling on the floor and firmly at a loss on how I can even respond to your comment with any degree of salvation. It would be unwise of me to attempt a rebuttal, because I would surely lose.
Gwyneth: If you aren’t already doing so, follow Melanie immediately. She will have you guffawing one second and then mesmerizing you the next second with her honest takes on life. She’s a keeper.
Melanie, Part II: Never fear that I’m the least bit perturbed by the hijacking. I welcome it wholeheartedly, and we’re all better for it…
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I hear ya Brian, from here in Oz where it’s a divine wintery 20 degrees… but the summer heat of Hell is always coming closer…
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Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll just live with you when the heat is intolerable in Texas, and then you can come up here when the same happens in Australia. Deal?
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So DEAL!! 😊🌈💋
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I am at home right now in the Okanagan Valley (at the very tip of the Sonoran Desert) and it gets really hot here too, but the upside is the wine. And beer. 😉
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And the very friendly people, such as myself, who knock on your door at unexpected times…
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You (and Partner) are very welcome to knock at any time (the door will open and you will be invited in – promise). 🙂
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I never met anybody so full of complaints. RE-posted on twitter @trefology
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Of course I’m full of complaints, Father. I’m just following in your footsteps….
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I’ve never known my feet to touch the ground.
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It has been a mind-melting, sweltering 20 degrees here for more than 2 weeks now and I can’t even cope with that! Anything above 5 degrees is BBQ weather, (I don’t know what it is on the other scale, which ever is the other scale and I can’t be arsed to look it up). I think I would have long since died in your heat. Hilarious post. Stay safe!
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True story: I didn’t get the chance to read all of your comment, because my laptop exploded when the heat index hit 215 on that other scale you can’t be bothered with. I’m just going to assume that you said something lovely about my writing and we’ll call it good… 😉
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Yes. What you said. 😉 Hope laptop recovers after a cooling off period.
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Cancelling Texas from the bucket list of places to visit
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Wise choice. Very wise… 😉
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I remember those days all too well. I consoled myself with the thought that if it weren’t for triple digit temps, Phoenix’s population really would be out of control.
Not that you asked, but yesterday in central MN, our high was Phoenix’s overnight low (89). Yes, people here were complaining. I just smiled.
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Well, that’s one way to look at it, in that the excessive heat is a form of population control. And yet people keep moving to Dallas, in droves, singing songs about the promised land as they journey south. Then they get here and the music dies. Still, we have a lot of really good Mexican restaurants, so there’s that…
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Don’t ask me where I want to eat lunch. I’m not the tiniest bit interested in that. I’m focused on trying to breathe. 😂
A fun read as Scotland deals with a ‘heatwave’ of 26 degrees…
We have no idea.
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26 degrees? In Scotland? I’m assuming therapists are on standby… 😉
Good to hear from you.
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👍
We need therapists for the therapists- a mass import if foreign therapists is underway.
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Okay but did you go with the tuscan potato or zanzibar sunset?!!! 🤣😂🤣🌞🌞🔥🌡🌡🌡
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We settled on “Stargazer Frilly”…
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