Dante’s got a forgotten circle in Phoenix

An Interminable Inferno.

Phoenix, Arizona, Summer 2019.

It just never made it into the novel.

To fully understand living in a dry desert, one must have lived in it. Words and images cannot do it justice.

Bullet points to imagine, if you can.

  • Four — going on 5 — straight months of triple-digit temps from 100 (37 C) to 120 (48.4 C), with around 110-115 (43.3-46.1 C) being a steady predictable for a full 3 months.

Heat 2019 is challenging and/or breaking record after record.

These triple digits, while “inching down” barely, certainly not fast enough! — are expected to continue into October. Ugh. Ugh. U.G.H.!!

U.G.H. — stands for Ugly Grouchy Humans. Plenty of us around who are FED UP with the hot and absence of relief / rain.

And oh yeah, the increased number of heat-related deaths. Including, I’m sickened to say, a 3-year-old girl today. Her parent/s left her in the back seat of the car. For 2-3 hours. 110 F. (43.3 C) outside.

They baked her to death.

Yet another AYE! vote for forced sterilization.

  • Verily No. Rain. The all-important monsoons, officially from June-September but in practice July-August, that typically supply half our annual water supply are nowhere to be seen — hence the moniker “nonsoons.”
  • Normal monsoon rainfall measures 2-plus inches (5.08 cm). Here in 2019, we’re hovering around 0.27 inch (0.68 cm). With about one month left in the monsoon (“nonsoon”) season and effectively no rain in sight for the next two weeks.
  • Arizona’s also on track for becoming the 3rd- or 4th-driest monsoon season on record.

Smashing records in Heat and in Dry.

Why the fuck does anyone wanna live here?!?

Rhetorical of course.

I get the reasons. So many are Californians and East Coasters escaping their politically-liberal insane overpriced overtaxed ruined shitholes. Except they don’t leave them, only transplant the very ills they’re fleeing! 

… perpetuating an endless cycle of Californication across the country — with Phoenix now long a favorite of Californians. And it shows!

Phoenix also bears a sizable population of snowbirds.

They’ll soon descend — Oct.Nov. and then take off around March as the heat sneaks in like dope smoke beneath the door. The vast influx of snowbirds dramatically alters the landscape (i.e., swollen stores, roads, freeways, housing).

I mean, it’s not like Phoenix with 5 million-plus people and EXPLODING needs one more person!

But whatever.

I don’t live here in Phoenix.

I mean I do, physically. My addy’s on file at the post office. My abode is tangible — and I in it, too tangible.

What’s meant by the oft-stated “I don’t live here” is I’m here due to circumstances. I was homeless. Had to go somewhere. Couldn’t stay where I was — in a far cooler and prettier part of Arizona.

To my mind, Phoenix is that proverbial two ships passing in the night.

Irony is, ain’t no fucking water for any ship!

Except a toy boat in a pool at an apartment complex. Majority of complexes have pools. Gots to. Tenants wouldn’t rent there otherwise!

This my first summer in Phoenix has been uniquely brutal. Not merely my misery speaking. Stats back it up.

Lucky me. Seriously.

How so? This Dust Bowl of a Summer:

(a) is a valuable experience. Even if it falls into that “once is enough” category, I can say I’ve done it — with NO pride whatsoever! Everyone should live once in some kinda horrendous climate. Struggle builds character. Cultivates insight and wisdom if you’re spiritually inclined.

(b) is hastening my exit. Never wanted to be here, never planned on staying.

There’s the real gift of Phoenix Summer 2019 for this water baby:

The reminder that like a fish, I must keep moving or I die.

Water, fish … ohhhh, again the irony …

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