Man From A Hot Town

I was born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. It's a place whose probable primary cultural tradition is coping with the heat. I don't say that as a knock on the city. I just can't think of a part of life there that doesn't at least make reference to the heat, beating the heat, or the pleasant weather of winter. Like anyone, I have been charged for life with the duty of representing the place I came from. I didn't ask for that responsibility, and these days, I don't much want it. Easier than defending the politics of my hometown is considering how I act as an ambassador in other areas. The one that has been on my mind lately is the heat to which I have just referred.

It's expected, I believe, that I'm supposed to be inoculated against the heat as a result of have been forged in summers whose daily highs exceeded 100 degrees as a rule, and loudly brag about my invulnerability. In truth, while we learned there how to make the best of it (the most affluent of us by just getting out), it never stops affecting you. You adopt a stoic attitude and claim it does. To the extent that I did have any kind of accumulating protection, I think that now it's no more. What I've found to be the case is that I, and perhaps others, adjust rather quickly to the place I spend most of my time. I recalibrate, and accept the prevailing weather as the norm. When I was living in Chicago, I was amazed at how warm twenty degrees began to feel once I had gotten used to the idea. So it is here

 There is a general impression made on people outside of Arizona about its natives where the heat is concerned. I guess that I'm supposed to sneer at the alleged hot weather in a place like Los Angeles. That's the stereotypical thing about Arizonans, Texans and the like. Sure, I had temperatures in Phoenix that rivaled Baghdad, but a Fahrenheit temperature is just a number. Accepting it as the whole story is no wiser than doing the same with a single statistic in baseball. There's a saying about Arizona's heat that is so cliched I won't repeat it, but it's true. Humidity matters so much more to me than the official temperature. The most unbearable summers I'm spent were in northern and central Florida. The sticky, gritty heat pummels you like a champion boxer.

Here in LA, it's not terribly bad under ordinary circumstances. I can only speak for my area of it, as the sprawling city stretches across regions of almost completely distinct prevailing weather systems. There's not as much humidity in Florida, but maybe more than there is most of the time in Arizona. Like elsewhere, people mainly experience the weather a few moments at a time while shuttling in between air-conditioned indoor spaces. Those who don't are worthy of great admiration. The weather is mostly good here throughout the year. The refrain about rain is much the same here as it was in Arizona, although there's somewhat less urgency in it outside of wildfire season. It does get hot in the summer, and we are in the midst of what could fairly been called a heat wave.

What's my attitude about the whole thing? It's not comfortable, but comfort is often the death of personal growth. As they say, the heat builds character. I try not to be unduly vocal about my bonafides, since as I said I don't put much stock in them myself. Bragging is rather unattractive in any case. I'm just putting up with the balmy weather like everyone else, and hoping that it's as therapeutic as many Native Americans believe. At the very least, I'll have no toxins in my system come Autumn.