Summer is broken. Something happened, and for the first time in my life I experienced 1% humidity. The southwestern heat is different this year, and I have over a decade in Phoenix as testimony to what nature can dish out. This is my third July in Las Vegas, and natural light itself is not normal. My skin immediately burns when I go outside, as if I turned up the UV volume to maximum. I once forgot to put my sunglasses on before leaving the house, and in the second it took me to put them on, I fried my eyes so badly that I saw pink spots for about 10 minutes afterwards. The “bite” is harsher somehow, and there are a multitude of online videos showing unprecedented objects actually melting, including a cactus! When a cactus melts, that’s bad, right?
There are many explanations as to why this is happening and I am not aligning myself with any of them enough to declare an actual “belief” at this point. What I have observed, however, is how it has changed people. My partner works outside and I have never seen him become human jerky until this summer. He is so drained and exhausted after a 8-10 hour day that after a shower and dinner, there isn’t much left for himself or anyone else in the family. I know he wants to be present, but the heat is simply too much day in and day out. I can’t even make it few minutes outside without whining and profusely sweating, and he’s out in it all day… and do you think the general public cares? Hell no. Sometimes I forget to walk a mile in his shoes as well; I’d probably die just carrying his tool belt.
People are getting ultra angry over the littlest of things because it is so hot. The light is frying our brains and I hide a lot lately, avoiding going places during busy times and only if I have to. I’ve gone into hermit crab mode, peering out from my air conditioned shell only when absolutely necessary. When I take Buzz on our early morning walks (before it starts looking like the movie Pitch Black outside), I think to myself, “this place shouldn’t be here.” I see all the casinos, all the hotels, all the people… I hear all the air conditioners, all the cars, all the noise… and know that without Hoover Dam and Lake Mead, this place couldn’t exist as it does now. This summer has tasked the man-made, and it is painfully obvious how expensive it is to keep up a fake oasis in the desert.
The forecast for this week calls for temperatures possibly under 100 degrees, but at least under 110. Thank God. Maybe a monsoon storm will finally show off and give Las Vegas a ride… maybe people will literally cool off and quit being jerks… maybe Lady Luck was never here in the first place. I only know one thing for sure… by this time next year, I want to be on my way to moving further north and looking at trees. I miss trees. And not burning when I go outside. Lava love to my Phoenix friends and family – it’s a dry heat, like a kiln. There’s no Vin Diesel either.