Coffee heat rising

Idle essays

Hotter Than the Hubs….

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HO-lee maquerel!  As we scribble — coming on to 6:00 p.m. — the thermometer in the shade of the back porch reads 109 degrees.

Garden spot, eh?

Just walked over to the park and back… Couldn’t take the Ruby, because the pavements — all of them — are too hot for her feet. Couldn’t make it all the way around, either: the air is too hot for the human!

Ugh! WHAT a place!!!!  What on earth possessed my parents to drag us to this corner of Hell, lo! these many years ago?

O’course…you could ask what on earth possesses me to stay here….

Just crazy, I guess.

Actually, it’s because my son is here. He has a job here. His dad is here. And he ain’t about to go anyplace else.

So…. I reckon as long as he stays in Phoenix, I’ll stay here too. If he decamps to some other garden spot, I may follow him. If he goes someplace where I can’t follow…well! Then I’ll be on my way to the higher altitudes of the hills around Tucson or else headed for Payson or Prescott (small towns in the plateaus above the desert) or…maybe straight back to San Francisco, where I belong.

Those exigencies don’t make me like this place a helluva lot more, though. It’s fine in the fall, the winter, and the early spring — climate-wise, anyway. The overall Los-Angelization is a trait I could do without, any time of the year or the day.

Lovely Morning from Hell

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Yuch!!!!!  It’s a Rasty Nasty morning out there, come 7:00-ish. “Rasty Nasty” is what my father used to call Ras Tanura, the oil camp where we lived by the shore of the (hot! sticky!!) Persian Gulf while he worked as a harbor pilot out there.

One place where you do not want to spend any of your lifetime is Saudi Arabia. What a horrible place!

Ohh well…. The dawg and I are back in the house, having staggered down the west side of the park and back through the slab of the neighborhood that I like to call Lower Richistan. Made it back inside without passing out…that’s something, anyway.

By the time the Human finishes cooling off in the air conditioning, M’jito’s babysitters will be here. He’s hired these women to keep watch on me…and you can see the vast Nuisance Potential entailed in that. If you’re a person who’s accustomed to doing what you want, when you want, the LAST thing you want or need is people underfoot all day. Especially not strangers.

So this is going to convert life at home into misery at home. And I’ll tellya: I ain’t a-lookin’ forward to it.

Oh, well. At least Ruby and I managed to steal a few minutes of pleasurable meandering. Now we’re back home, waiting for the nuisances to show up.

Dayum!

Right now, what I most want is an hour of peace and quiet in the silence of my own home, with only a dawg to keep me company. If pests want to show up in an hour or two, that’s fine. But NOT NOW, dammit!!

Anyway, we’ll have three fans blowing — one in the kitchen and two in the family room — which at least should help to cool the poor creatures down. It is SO hot and SO humid out there that it takes you a good half-hour to cool down, even with the AC set at 80 and all the fans blasting.

This humidity is alien stuff here in Arizona, where the air is usually dry and crisp — heat or no heat. Hot and humid was indeed the weather we “enjoyed” in unlovely Saudi Arabia.

I hate this place. Ohhhhhh how I wanna goooo home!

And “home” is San Francisco!

Not Exactly HOTTER than the Hubs…

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But at least VEERING toward hot as the Hubs of Hades. Outdoors: hot, sticky, gummy weather. Indoors: sticky and gummy.

July is the time of year when you do NOT want to be killing time in Arizona. The heat is fierce, and no, it is most surely not a “dry heat.” It’s as humid and sticky as (un)lovely Saudi Arabia used to be when we lived out there. Yuck!

Wunderground claims it’s only 94º outside. Supposed to get up to 107º during the day. If you asked me, I’d say we’d reached that goal already! At ten in the morning…

Ugh. If my parents were still living, I’d brain them both for dragging me to this hellish place.

They thought Sun City, over on the far west side of Phoenix, was just loverly. 

Yeah…

No accounting for taste, eh? If you love the sound of fighter jets roaring up and down, starting along about 5 in the morning: just loverly. If you love folks who hate kids and wish to live in a place where no such critters exist: loverly. If you love folks who hate people whose skin is darker than theirs and wish to live in a place where no dusky types reside: loverly. If you love grocery stores that sell nothing more exotic than a T-bone steak: loverly.

Ye gawds, did I hate living out there!

Finally got a job in town, one that supported a studio apartment’s rental. So…was able to escape loverly Sun City.

Now in my old age: here I am, parked in North Phoenix….most certainly not in the retirement environs of Sun City. To this day, the appeal of that place escapes me. Reckon it must be….what? ….

The whitey-whitness (No kidding: just a few months ago an African-American friend of mine bought a house out there. Within weeks he was literally HOUNDED out of the place!)

The ultra-tidy sameness of the architecture and of what passes for the landscaping. (Nothing like a gravel lawn to stay nice and neat, eh?)

The relative cheapness of the houses. (A comparable house in town would cost half again as much…or more.)

The remoteness from the rough-and-tumble noise of a big city. (Sun City is characterized by the silence of the tomb….when fighter jets aren’t blasting back and forth.)

One could go on and on, I suppose….but one would prefer not to.

Never was so happy as when I got into graduate school and made my escape to a university campus.

Ugh!!!

Swampy Dampy Day

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Uch!  Just back from an attempted doggy-walk. That was a serious FAIL!!!

The air is thick with moisture….literally. Feels almost like you’re walking through Jell-O out there. No exaggeration!

The human needs to make a grocery-store run…but that ain’t gunna happen today,  not without a car. My dear son, as you recall, managed to confiscate the Dog Chariot, so I am stuck here in the ‘Hood, on foot, with no viable means of transport other than paying for a cab.

No, don’t even ask about the public (heh!) “transportation” here.

An Uber driver dwells across the street…but no, I’m not about to trot over to his house and lean on his doorbell at 7:30 in the morning.

You can arrange someone to deliver groceries. But that’s a pretty hilarious joke! Americans don’t eat decent food and they don’t cook. So when you ask some poor soul to pick up a pile of groceries on a list, you get…  Well… Something between har har and ugh! 

This leaves me with having to walk six or eight blocks (each way!) to the Albertson’s or the Sprouts or the Fry’s, or else trying to mooch a ride with a neighbor. Or paying through the schnozola to get a cabby to drive me back and forth.

At any rate, I ain’t about to walk to any of the local stores through this grim weather. So…hope for the best in the freezer! 😀

{Bellyache Bellyache…}

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Migawd, those poor people who have to work outside in this UNHOLY heat and humidity. This morning it’s a swamp out there. And yeah, that’s the only way to describe it.

But as Ruby and I swam around the block through the soggy air, we came across one yard dude after another slamming around in this heat: pushing lawnmowers (or, if they were lucky, riding them), through heat and humidity thick enough float in. Horrible, horrible morning.

Walk in the door at 7:30 a.m. Ringy dingy ringy dingy ringy dingy…. Goddam phone solicitor!

Me to A**-hole, at high volume: GET OFF MY PHONE AND STAY OFF MY GOD-DAMNED PHONE!!!!!!

God, how I hate that. Really, I should disconnect the phone when I go to bed at night. But I’m afraid if some emergency comes up, M’hijito won’t be able to reach me. Or I may not be able to reach him.

Phone soliciting, though, really should be illegal. In these parts, though: far from it. Here, it’s a prison industry.

No kidding. When your phone jangles with a nuisance call, chances are there’s a convict on the other end of the line.

Even if he or she weren’t serving a term for some fun crime, I’d still rather not talk with them. Especially not over the phone. Especially not at 7:00 in the morning!

Here in the Hubs of Hades…

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Actually, it’s hotter than the hubs out there just now. At 10 in the morning it’s 101º in what should be the shade of the back porch. But there’s no shade: the sky is overcast. So everything is sorta…gray.

Steamy gray.

Truth to tell, I like a gray day…if it’s in San Francisco.

Hereabouts: not so much. Our “gray day” resembles the inside of an oven.

Ruby and I opted the morning doggy-walk. Even at 7:00 in the morning, it was soggy enough and hot enough to extinguish the Human.

Ahh, but it does lead you to count your blessings. Think of all the jobs you don’t have, for example.

  • You’re not digging a trench across an excavated roadway.
  • You’re not driving a delivery truck: one that has no air conditioning and no windows or passenger doors.
  • You don’t work in a service station. (Or do you?)
  • You’re not walking dogs for your neighbors.
  • You don’t dock tankers at a pier.
  • You don’t mow lawns.
  • You don’t herd small children around a preschool playground
  • On and on….

 Seriously: today is an awful day. As ugly and as uncomfortable as I can remember, this side of unlovely Ras Tanura, the unholy oil camp where I grew up by the shore of the Persian Gulf.

At least hereabouts we can be confident that the air will cool down a bit over the next week or so. Or at least dry out!

M’hijito is supposed to come over for dinner tonight. I sure don’t want to go out in that swamp for a grocery expedition. Hmmmm….

Well, we have a VERY nice steak in the fridge.

***

Huh!

Yesterday I was feeling awful. Actually asked my son to tote me out to the Mayo today.

This morning, whatever that was is totally gone. 

Can’t even imagine what ailed me. But whatever it was, I’m mighty glad to be rid of it.

Weird!