I have a feeling its going to be a hot summer. I say this not because of an amazing ability to forecast the weather, but because my mom – in what has become an annual tradition – has started complaining about the heat.
Of course, a lot of people thought it was too hot this past Thursday, Friday and Saturday, what with temperatures soaring into the 90s. My mom, however, began grumbling on Monday, days in advance of the unseasonably early heatwave. (Technically speaking, June 21 is the first day of summer.)
As I mentioned in a column in July of last year, Mom – a native of the Midwest – has become wussified by our comparatively mild Pacific Northwest summers.
Apparently forgetting about the oppressive humidity that characterizes Midwest summers, Mom now considers temperatures of over 70 degrees cause for criticizing Mother Nature.
I myself am not a fan of sauna-like weather either, but I keep things in perspective by recalling the time I spent in Houston, Texas (State motto: Built over hell and proud of it.) in August of 1990, where I learned a new definition of the word hot. With temperatures over 100 degrees and a humidity rate not far behind, I found just breathing outdoors to be a chore, when I wasnt busy peeling my always-damp skin off leather furniture. Needless to say, after my stay in Houston, I gained a new appreciation for just how good we have it here in the South Sound during the summer.
Im guessing Mom will have a similar reaction, as she and my stepdad will be flying to Tennessee later this week to visit some relatives. Shes already dreading the hot, humid weather conditions that will probably greet their arrival, mostly because I keep telling her shes going to be wishing for western Washington heat when she gets hit with that first blast of Tennessee heat.
Contrary to what you might think, Im not being mean. Im just trying to toughen Mom up so that she doesnt melt during her Tennessee trip.
Now, if I could just get her to overcome her lifelong fear of spiders. By the way, I hear they have arachnids the size of chihuahuas in Tennessee.
My Two Cents is a weekly column where the author – whose air conditioning system at home consists of an ice cube suspended in front of a fan – gets in his two cents worth, in spite of the old saying that you only get a penny for your thoughts.
