If You Say “Dry Heat” I Will Punch You in the Face

In the summer we belong to a golf group called Nine & Dine–nine holes of golf starting at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, then we dine en masse. Last week while dining I was asked by a lady who was a former pro-golfer, “So…what do you like to do other than golf?” I looked at her and blinked in rapid succession and could only stare. While I DO go out on plush fairways with a stick and a ball, it’s not what she would call golfing.

What do I like to do? As I saw it, my response could go one of two ways. I could answer her with rhetoric or… I could deliver her Today’s Truth which is illustrated best by the Arizona weather forecast and the TV screen shot below:

I consider delivering my opus of Today’s Truth by assuming the demeanor of Al Pacino:

Are you talking to ME? What do I like to DO? Well, I’m summering in Arizona which might as well be the Gaza Strip the way the airport here is evacuating people before the big heat wave and people are being told to stay inside. I have a dog who likes to play with the ball the ball the ball the ball and if he doesn’t get exercised three times a day he becomes the devil. So I’m living with The Devil. And that’s appropriate since we are living in hell. Oh…and I study French, Italian and Spanish.

At night I’m just a teensy bit restless because, you know, I’m post-menopausal and we live in a skillet. I go to bed but can’t sleep. Go pee even though I don’t need to. Throw the covers off. Consider putting a heating pad on my aching knee but decide I would rather just amputate my leg in the morning. Throw off the covers. Get brain worm song “Burning Down the House”.  Pee. Get on Facebook and give a 😡 emoji to anyone who posts a Grateful Meme and unfollow anyone who lives in the mountains. Shuffle around in bed throwing the covers off and sighing loudly enough to wake The Husband who simply rolls over and continues to sleep. Pee. Watch the sun come up. Accidentally jab The Husband in his rib with my elbow. He turns to me with a sweet smile and inquires softly, “Sup?”

Sup?! Sup!? I now scream. Me! I am sup and have been all night! Somehow this is now his problem. I slog to the bathroom devoid of any pee but nonetheless sit on the toilet, translating in my head, “There is no such thing as dry heat,” in French, Italian and Spanish.

I snap out of my daydream and see now that my new acquaintance is still waiting for my response. I decide Nah on answering her with Today’s Truth, say goodbye to my Al Pacino persona and deliver instead,

Let’s see. What do I like to do? Oh, just normal stuff like travel, reading, spending time with my family. And golfing. I do so enjoy our Nine & Dine in the summer.

I wait for the inevitable response, “It’s great here because it’s a dry heat” but it never comes, thank God, because I would have had to punch her in the face. Then I repeat Nine & Die in my head in French, Italian and Spanish.