Finally understanding the positive implications of the phrase, "But it's a dry heat".
I in no way claim to be a wiz at mathematics, but I believed I was on solid ground in my belief that something as constant as a number, even the number 95, was equal in value whether referring to currency, cupcakes, or temperature. People in my neck of the country like to boast about our arid heat. I could never understand the allure. Give me a temperature in the nonagenarian range and I will be heading to the nearest planet endangering cooling system available.
Then I met Portland, Oregon in August. Imagine every surface of your body coated in a liquid layer of self-generated goo. While your ability to preform basic functions, such as wiping your delicately saturated brow, become slogged down to the the speed of a sloth on Prozac. There are many things to love, adore and relish about Portland, but a heatwave in August is not one of them. As the weather behaves in such a sensible way 95% of the year most of the general population of the city sees no need to have air conditioning, thus rendering it necessary to spend every evening at the movies.
As I walked about the city in my liquid coating, I was reminded of the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle story about the girl who refused to bath for so long she started sprouting radishes. It seemed like delightful, if somewhat distasteful, fantasy at the time. I am here to confirm that if I had stopped bathing, and was sprinkled with the seeds of quick sprouting vegetation while swimming in my layer of sogginess, there is little doubt germination would occur.