Desert Is Not Dessert
Out of necessity I am in Arizona this week.
Most times mentioning Arizona as a destination brings up that “Oh–” that is a followed by congratulatory commentary with a dash of envy.
That “Oh–” takes on tones of surprise, commiseration, and even pity when Arizona is mentioned as a travel stop this time of year.
The last three days have been rising to triple digits. Today is expected to be 114 degrees. I should add an exclamation point. Make that two.
People who live in Arizona must be okay with this cruelty. Why would someone purposefully punish themselves unless by choice? There are sooo many other places to live.
These are the reasons I hear from residents as they try to excuse the heat:
“Air conditioning. You go from the car to the store. It’s not bad.” That’s what they said about my root canal. “The pain and discomfort is minimal.” Pain is pain and the shock of heat blasting off the asphalt parking lot even for the two minutes of the dash from car to store is still excruciating.
“It cools down at night.” Umm, 80 degrees at 1 am is not cool. It’s not even pleasant.
“Hang out at the pool.” Great idea in theory; however, the sun has been heating up that water until it becomes lukewarm. Not remotely refreshing is the time spent floating in tepid waters.
And the weather announcer pull-it-out-every-time excuse: “But it’s a dry heat.” Dry it is. Because heat is hot and hot is not comfortable.
I’m sure Arizona is lovely other parts of the year. Flocks of snowbirds descending and settling down in the desert for winter have proven this to be statement of fact. Unfortunately I care not for the desert. It is not my idea of a dessert vacation.
114? Really?!?
Pam Webb 