Summertime and the living ain't easy

Snowbirds are leavin' 'cause the temps are too high

And if Gershwin had lived in Tucson in June when he wrote “Summertime” he would have added these lyrics:

Oh, these day’s are hot and and my brains are a cookin’
I turned up my A/C, set on high...
Heed the heat warnings, triple digit days are a burnin'
I'm livin' indoors cause who wants to die?
But 'til October, there's a-nothin' you can do
With salt pills and medics standin' by 
Stay inside baby. Don’t you cry.

I heard the cicadas crying in the trees today. That’s my cue to muse on the season so many dread. The season that I, a desert rat, welcome. The season before fire and rain. I welcome Summer because it cleanses our hostile planet of its fair-weather terrestrials who migrate north. I welcome Summer because I enjoy my walks in the cleansing heat, consuming sin torching heat and cooling water from my camel back all the way. I am one with the universe, the mailman, the mad dogs and Englishmen who go out in the midday sun. Tip: Don’t do it. I welcome Summer because I take perverse pride in remaining here with the desert survivors who tough it out. Perhaps most important someone has to water my desert garden to keep my Sonoran Eden lush.

Here are a few summer toons and musings for you to enjoy without breaking a sweat.

Shadows

Van Gogh would’ve loved the southwest for its light and its colors. Especially in summer when the blue, purple and grey shadows cast by the shimmering Mesquites and Palo Verdes offer refuge to those of us who go for morning walks too late in the morning. I can’t help but be fascinated by the lacey shadows cast by ancient creosotes on the khaki sand. Or the sunset silhouettes of eucalyptus, palm trees, and mesquite trees set against the flame red horizon rolling up to greet the crescent moon.

The Swamp Box Rite of Summer

Every summer the old man would cajole this surly punk to join him on the roof for the “Sacred Evaporative Cooler Ritual”. First, we cursed the heat. Goddam. Amen. Then we pried the rusty sides off the metal box. Then we cursed the heat again. Goddam. Amen. Then came the old man’s favorite part of the ritual: communion. He’d say the magic words into the vent, “Toss me up a cold one, Artha.” And lo, a beer would appear over by the ladder. Thank you, Belch. Amen. Next came the prying and peeling away of the old, calcified pads that stank like dead fish. Then it was my job to kill the alligator that was living in the swamp in the swamp box. Then we cursed the pads and commended them to the deep, tossing them overboard, with the alligator and other assorted swamp creatures, off the roof. Jesus. Amen. The replacement pads smelled so good I wanted to rub my face in the straw but verily I had to drain, scrape out and paint the rust bucket reservoir and rinse the pump because that is what made you a man in our culture. Amen. “Can I have a beer, dad?”

“Someday. When you’re a man.”

I cursed to myself. Amen.

After reassembling the swamp box dad would speak into the vent again to the Goddess of the House. “Gun it, woman.” And lo, the vents inside did blow and the Goddess said it was good. Real good.

Saguaro blossom time

The saguaro fruit is ready to be harvested which is essential to the native humans here performing a ritual which will insure we’ll be blessed with the rains that will end Summer’s season of drought. Here’s the recipe: Knock the fruit off the tops of the saguaros. Peel it. Boil it. Ferment it. Talk to the Gods. Drink the wine. Regurgitate white foamy clouds which will fill the sky with monsoon clouds which will wash our cars. And wash away our saguaro fruit hangovers.

Only one place hotter than Hell

There’s only one place hotter than Hell and that’s the hotbox that’s deep in Hell which is reserved for those raisin brains who leave their children and their pets in their hotbox vehicles while they shop in air-conditioned comfort for popsicles, the latest copy of “A Desert Survival Guide for Dummies” and more Extra Strength Prevagen.

Tucsonans

Living here much of my life I have noticed that my skin has become leathery like a saddle and my desiccated epidermis has wrinkled like a dried apple. I look like a cross between a white raisin and Georgia O’Keefe. My left arm looks like it belongs to George Hamilton because when I drive it gets the sun. My rump has scars from all those times I went out midday, returned to my vehicle parked in the sun, opened the door and sat on a buckle that was hotter than a branding iron. We know you’re a Tucsonan by your summertime seatbelt burns.

No one knows how to cope with heat like a Tucsonan.

Here’s how we do it:

• Denial

• “Whoa Nellie! Mah biscuits are burnin’!” humor

• Inappropriate nudity

• Swimming pool homesteading

• We never leaving our vehicles or homes and we live like hamsters in an infinite habi-trail

Burrows

This is the time of year I notice all the burrows. Some of the burrow dwellers are moving out and about, but most have moved in for the summer. Out back we have ground squirrels, every range of rodent, tarantulas, and squatters like snakes and other assorted critters. Some of the villages are quite extensive. We have a gang of literary rodents living in a development called the “William S. Burrows”. My favorite development is named Tarzana. You can’t miss it. Turn left at the Creosote and you’re at the “Edgar Rice Burrows Estates”.

The Desperate Search for Cool

There are five cool refuges in the Tucson area.

1. Kartchner Caverns. Buy the $3000 “Perpetual Tour” ticket. You’re never still but at least it’s chill.

2. The Titan II Missile Museum. Break away from the tour group. Enter wherever it says “DO NOT ENTER” and you’re good until November.

3. Tucson Mall. Keep moving and avoid gorging on Cinnabons.

4. The frozen foods section of your nearest grocery store. The freezers are ideal casitas for a refreshing nap. Tip: Frozen peas make exceptional pillows.

5. The cave exhibit at the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum. At closing time make like a bat.

Be of good cheer!

Be of good cheer! Soon the summer months will be over and the winter month will be here. Climate change newsflash. Winter is now just one month these days. But those breezes are so worth the wait.