I should probably just stay the heck out of the kitchen. Because, you know, I can’t stand the heat. One of the hottest record-breaking summers we’ve ever had, they say. I’m melting like the Wicked Witch of the West, I say. Record sales of sunscreen, sandals and sunglasses, they say. I’m going to the mall to sit in the air conditioning for four hours, I say.
And don’t even talk to me about trying to sleep at night in this coagulated porridge of thick airless mugginess.
Now I know that this is a long weekend where the weather normally turns to a mixed bag of ugly, but as I’m writing this, I know one thing: it’s just too flippin’ hot!
Ok, I also know what you’re probably thinking to yourself right now: ‘Don’t you dare complain about the heat, you moron – we’ll soon be back to eight months of dumb soul-sucking WINTER!’ And you would be right. But you’re probably not like I am – a sun-wimp who gets heat stroke when the weather person mentions any number above, say, 22. And I haven’t even stepped outside yet.
“Hot” is a relative term, though, isn’t it. (And here I’m talking about the weather, not attractive people.) A ‘hot day’ means different things to different people. We all know people who thrive on being scorched, roasted and toasted – people who love to lay in the sun like a piece of bacon, sizzling away, rejoicing in the notion of baking in global warming. Then there are those of us who, at the first sign of swelter, sit in our cars, awash in MAX AC, idling away, ruining the ozone layer. Shaking our heads pathetically at the brave souls who are actually functioning in the blazing dog day sun.
“Hey, that person doesn’t even have a hat on!” I say to no one in particular as I reach over and adjust the blasting air conditioning vent on my dash. “His brain will be rice pudding by supper time.” (Perhaps that’s what happened in the U.S. during the last election - they must have had a severe heat wave in November 2016. Sudden onset mass brain damage would explain a lot of things these days.)
Be that as it may, the real question around here lately is the classic: “How hot is it??” Well, since you asked… IT’S SO HOT THAT:
Hot water comes out of both taps.
You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
The birds have to use pot holders to pull worms out of the ground.
The cows are giving evaporated milk.
The trees are whistling for the dogs.
“Hot enough for ya?” How many times have you heard that lately? No worries, you clever quipster, you – I got your back. Try these: “It’s so hot that…”
I’m sweating in spots I didn’t know I had.
I just microwaved my head to cool down a little.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses are telemarketing.
Water buffalo are evaporating.
The potatoes cook underground, and all you have to do to have lunch is to pull one out and add butter, salt and pepper.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard boiled eggs.
It’s so hot today the air smells like ironing.
Meantime, we all know that complaining about the weather is a universal full time exercise in futility. But there is an upside: when it’s this hot we actually miss complaining the freezing snowy icy cold.
And – bonus! - when the temperature drops below 30, it actually feels a bit chilly!
Harley Hay is a Red Deer writer and filmmaker.