We’re told the World is going to Hell in a climate-warming handcart, ohhhhh eeeek! Be scared. Be very scared.
Uhm. Ohh-kay.
It’s only 111 on the back porch, a little short of 11 a.m.. That’s passing warm, but nothing to get hysterical about. This being, after all, the first week of July. When we say “hotter’n’the fourth of July” in these parts, we’re not kidding.
No. I’ve seen 120-degree days here, when planes couldn’t take off from Sky Harbor because the air was so hot they couldn’t get enough lift to clear a runway. And yes, that was before the Climate Change Hysteria took a-hold.
Not that I don’t believe the planet’s climate is warming…
It probably is.
But if so, take note: it’s not the first time! We’ve had whole geologic ages whose climate was much warmer than what we’ve seen over the past few centuries. for all we know, what we’re seeing now may be normal for the earth, and what we saw in the 18th and 19th centuries may have reflected a cold spell.
So calm down, f’rhevvinsake.
Meanwhile, the dawg and I are fricaseeing.
Gerardo showed up as dawn cracked to repair a busted irrigation pipe. Talk about your Man of Steel! He fixed it, collected a nominal fee, and shot off down the road.
That guy is just flat amazing.
**************
5:29 p.m.
Wow! Talk about your Days from Hell…
Actually, it wasn’t all that bad. Infernal, yes: heat-wise. But hassle-wise? Just middling.
Phoenix’s garden-spot climate reached about 110 come 3:00 this afternoon. Conveniently, this was when I was out driving around, doing battle with my fellow homicidal drivers. HOLEE shee-ut, driving around in this heat is about as unadvised as unadvised can get.
But o’course, you have no choice. If you’re gonna do the things that need to be done, you’re gonna have to drive.
A few cheery highlights:
Wanna drive out to the credit union, way to Hell & Gone out at the ASU West campus. To get there, I’ve gotta get gas. Soooo…. I drop by the big ole Circle K station that lurks between here and the freeway.
Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line…pull up to a pump.
Put my credit card in.
The damn thing won’t accept my AMEX card. It tells me to go inside to pay.
F@ck!
Trudge through the heat and into the “convenience” (hah!) store.
Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line… Finally get up to a human. He says “do this, that.” I say “but I just did this and did that.” More people are standing in line. I do not feel like inducing any more frustration, either in them or in myself.
F@ckit! I think. I’ll just back-track to the GOOD gas station, way Hell and gone 20 blocks in the opposite direction from where I’m going.
***
Pull up to a pump.
It won’t take my credit card.
Goddammit!
Into this inconvenience store.
Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line… Here the service dude actually dispenses service: he comes outside, bats around and bats around and finally gets the goddamn thing to work! Not directly charging to AMEX, but at least it pumps gas into the tank.
Back to stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line… Pay up.
It is hotter than the proverbial hubs. Seriously.
Now it’s getting late. Rush hour is shifting into full swing.
Am I REALLY going to drive way to Hell and Gone out to ASU West just to argue with the credit union folks? In the 112-degree heat?
Seriously?
Yeah, I do need to visit a Sprouts, and the store next to the campus IS the best Sprouts store in the Valley.
But…but…but…in this heat, does “need” to visit translate to “have” to visit?
Hell, no!
Will the CU even still be open by the time I get out there?
Probably. But…
Ohhhhhh Hell noooooooooo!
Throw in the cards and head back to the Funny Farm.
***
FLY out into the backyard and pour an extra dose of water on the potted plants in back. Hot. Hot. Hot. and Hot.
Plants seem to be surviving for the nonce, but that won’t last long without at least two waterings on a day like this.
Toss the hose in the pool, turn the spigot to Full Blast, and set the timer for 15 minutes. That should (I hope) replace the two or three inches that have evaporated since this time y’day.
***
Open the mail.
AMEX bill is…well…yeah: STAGGERING.
Can’t make the credit union’s infuriating website let me in to see whether there’s enough cash on hand to cover that particular outrage.
Call on the phone.
Irritating yakathon runaround…
Irritating yakathon runaround…
Irritating yakathon runaround…
Irritating yakathon runaround…
FINALLY a human being picks up.
Yes. There’s a vast pile of money in there (thanks to Dollars Dude, who has transferred it over from Fidelity). So yes, I can pay the AMEX bill.
By now I am just freakin’ TOOOOO TIRED to jump through that hoop safely. Decide to put the chore off until tomorroe.