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July 31, 2002
The overly smarmy meteorologist stopped
The overly smarmy meteorologist stopped me dead in my TV-watching tracks yesterday. Steamy? What exactly does this perfectly coifed bubblehead mean? Yes, yes, the temperatures for yesterday would surpass my sweatiest moments ever, but I've never encountered that adjective with weather. I've encountered some hot weather. In Phoenix, there was the flammability factor, where you would step outside of an air conditioned office, take two steps, and burst into flames. In Phoenix, you knew to always be polite in the summer to the cars with their windows down, as the people traveling in four wheeled convection ovens always have had their sanity baked out. It was always described as a dry heat, even though my instantly evaporating sweat contributed what it could to humidify the city. I lived in Uzbekistan, where it was ochen zharkaya, which means "really hot". We were told to always drink at least three liters of water a day, because you would sweat that much. During the day, I would kill for a cold orange fanta, totally willing to beat children with sticks if they blocked my way, even though the bottles were usually simply cooled down in a canal. The drinks were a few degrees cooler than me.
However, I have never lived in a place where the heat could be described as steamy. Does that mean I can leave out a pot of rice in the morning and come home to light and fluffy sustenance? Will my clothes mysteriously unwrinkled when I step outside? Do people step into a sauna to cool down? I've read books, Peace Corps diaries, and travel books about steamy jungles, but I have only been to jungles in Mexico and Cozumel, but I don't think they count. Is New York City really as hot and humid as a jungle?
So I stepped outside. It was hot. Damn hot. When I read how Daisy Buchanan flutters languidly at the beginning of The Great Gatsby, I never really believed that heat was an issue this far north. Now I realize that the summers here are why New Yorkers raise their noses at Californians and their clement weather. That distinctive garbage/dog pee/smog smell invigorates me every day on my way to work, making me stronger, more alive than I ever could have imagined. What could be better? Maybe some air conditioning.
Posted by G at July 31, 2002 06:49 PM