Hotter than Hades

Hotter than Hades

Who’s ready for bursting into flames?

Behold, the Phoenix forecast. I am concerned for my friends and relatives who live there. I feel it necessary to impart some information: This is God’s way of saying “Get Out!” Just know this, loved ones – My home is always open to you. Sit with me on my patio in the cool evening breeze while we sip refreshing drinks that don’t instantly come to a boil. I will re-introduce you to grass, and trees, and all manner of outdoor activities like taking walks, sliding down playground slides, and Cornhole. If you get to feeling homesick, I have a fire pit. We can light a fire and you can stand directly in it. I lived in Phoenix for two years while finishing my degree. I was gone within 48 hours after receiving my diploma, so I know it’s possible to escape. I hate hot weather. Before I moved to Phoenix, people would say “The weather is l-o-v-e-l-y six months out of the year!” Lies. Big. Fat. Lies. Here is the annual Phoenix weather trend:

January: Pleasant

February – April: Hot. If removing your skin would reduce your core body temperature, you’d do it.

May – December: Godawful hot. You’ll wish for death.

I have a theory of how the Valley of the Sun was settled. Doing so willingly before the advent of air conditioning seems insane, so there must be another explanation. Long ago, a merry band of optimistic settlers, on their way to the promised land in Southern California, lumbered into the Salt River Valley, and decided to take a much-needed break. It was the beginning of January and the weather was splendid. They lingered. Distracted by the daily task of ousting scorpions from their pantaloons, the settlers failed to notice the onset of February. It hit with a sweltering vengeance. Deerskin coats and vests sizzled, making everyone smell of bacon. Cattle succumbed, which wasn’t entirely horrible since they fried into delicious steaks before even hitting the ground. It wasn’t until the settlers’ wagons spontaneously combusted into raging devil flames that they realized they were hosed. “Well, at least it’s a dry heat,” they tried to console themselves. But even they knew how stupid that sounded. They had no means of escape. And that’s how Phoenix was born, I’m pretty sure. Take care of yourselves loved ones!

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