How many snowbirds have praised the American Southwest when they are there during December, January, and February? They aren't wrong.
But then they go and ruin it by extrapolating a short, seasonal stay to a 12-month-a-year residence. They simply underestimate how awful it is except during those three winter months. Their real estate agent tells them, "But it's only a dry heat." And they believe it.
No matter. Why waste my experience and sagacity on them. Let them learn the hard way.
It is only 75 F in the shade today -- but of course there ain't no shade. And look what happened to my camper's air mattress when I took it out to the picnic table to clean it.
The poor thing had herniated in only 15 minutes of "only a dry heat." I wondered how many more minutes would have been necessary for it to pop like a balloon.
But over the years I have learned to milk the act (of misery in June), just to experience the bliss of the monsoon season in July and August. Of course we don't always get a good monsoon season, but there is almost a "religious experience" in hoping for it.
I am happy to show the photograph above, because it is a visual representation of an idea that I come back to, quite often: that there is no "adventure" unless you can first tolerate, and be patient with, misadventure.
Even better, it helps to approach misadventure as Don Quixote approached enemies. Think of it as Noble Suffering performed in a romantic quest.
But then they go and ruin it by extrapolating a short, seasonal stay to a 12-month-a-year residence. They simply underestimate how awful it is except during those three winter months. Their real estate agent tells them, "But it's only a dry heat." And they believe it.
No matter. Why waste my experience and sagacity on them. Let them learn the hard way.
It is only 75 F in the shade today -- but of course there ain't no shade. And look what happened to my camper's air mattress when I took it out to the picnic table to clean it.
The poor thing had herniated in only 15 minutes of "only a dry heat." I wondered how many more minutes would have been necessary for it to pop like a balloon.
But over the years I have learned to milk the act (of misery in June), just to experience the bliss of the monsoon season in July and August. Of course we don't always get a good monsoon season, but there is almost a "religious experience" in hoping for it.
I am happy to show the photograph above, because it is a visual representation of an idea that I come back to, quite often: that there is no "adventure" unless you can first tolerate, and be patient with, misadventure.
Even better, it helps to approach misadventure as Don Quixote approached enemies. Think of it as Noble Suffering performed in a romantic quest.
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I had a dental cleaning appointment yesterday. I was not allowed into the office and had been told to sit by the door and someone would come and get me at the time of my appointment. So I sit by the door in the full morning sun for maybe 5-10 minutes.
One of the dental reception staff came out with a handy 'gun thermometer' and points it at my forehead. I told her 'I bet it is high because I have been sitting here basting for awhile'. We then went inside and she gave me a Coronavirus questionnaire to fill out and when she came back to pick it up she used her temperature gun again. The second reading was 98.4 the first reading after soaking up some sun was 101.6 - a false positive for having the Coronavirus.