Whether The Weather...

Whether the weather is cold, or whether the weather is hot; we'll be together whatever the weather, whether we like it or not.

Trading comments about the weather is a common social practice, isn't it? Years ago, a native Southern Californian visited me back east in January. At the end of the day, she said she noticed how wherever we went, people consistently talked about the weather.

Of course they did. It was winter! That time of year when Old Man Winter slapped us in the face to get our attention.

In Southern California, why talk about the weather unless there's a deluge? Or drought? Okay, maybe the Santa Ana winds on a bad hair day. But in the light of day, that pales in comparison to the minus forties or minus seventies in the Midwest, the balmy plus twenty degrees elsewhere, and the two-feet of snow elsewhere.

As I got out of my car today to walk at the warm and sun-splashed Camelback mountain in Scottsdale, Arizona, I reminded myself that most of the country was presently an arctic tundra. I remember those days, when I shoveled for hours, insulated pipes and hoped for the best. I am grateful that today is not one of those days for me.

Still, I find sixty-eight degrees a tad nippy in the shade. I keep that fact to myself since none of us here in Phoenix really talk about the weather much...until summer. Summer solstice is sprinkled with comments about monsoon season, how we can't wait for a rainy day, and how hot it's becoming.

Not me. I delight in swimming laps when the temps rise above 105 degrees.

While it's true that we Phoenicians come out to play when most of the country hunkers down hibernating, it's also true that when it's seventy degrees here, we dress in long sleeves and hoodies. That way, it's easy for us to spot the snowbirds—those who stroll around town in shorts and tank tops and who...talk about the weather.