Walking On Coals

The first discovery, when I moved to Southern Arizona, was that I could handle anything below normal body temperature. Then I started to find 102 or so tolerable. Then I'd say, "It's only when the mercury hits 105, the point at which fevers become life-threatening, that you have to worry." Well, it's been 108 or more every day this week and, although I'm not exactly enjoying myself and don't like the fact that the heat makes exacerbates the swelling in my ankle and foot, I haven't ever thought that the weather was too much to bear. Even today, when the temperature exceeded 110, I didn't mind that much. Hell, as I was preparing to enter the pool at the JCC for some therapeutic water walking -- Jesus swore by it -- I actually had the inspiration to lie on a chaise lounge for a bit to read, like those broasted Russian senior citizens, who seemingly never get enough warmth to compensate for their chilly Communist upbringing. To be sure, I decided after only a page that it was time to get wet. But I'm still impressed with my fortitude, even if I worry that it comes with the diminishment of mental capacity that seems to afflict so many of the state's long-time residents.