Dallas / Fort Worth and Me

It should be!  

And then I never heard of sleet being good before.  

Personally I hope there are no more ice storms in 2009!

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December’s one of my favorite months, and not just because of Christmas. In fact, I can take or leave that overly-commercialized celebration of consumerism, thank you, along with all those other winter solstice events that society’s forced down our throats. (And don’t even get me started about Valentine’s Day.)  No, the reason I enjoy December is because it’s cold! I don’t care for the ache in my bad leg*, but the chill on my skin brings me surcease. As I like to say, when you’re cold, you can always pile on more layers; when you’re hot, you can only take so many off before you get in trouble with the law. I know some people really like warm weather, but I sweat when it gets above 70. Why yes, I am big-boned. Why do you ask?

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As you may have guessed, my subtitle for this mini-treatise regarding D/FW’s November weather is, yes, a specimen of that species of literary legerdemain known as the double entendre. In my previous missives, you may have noticed that I’ll occasionally drop in a clever reference to a celebrity who comes from the Metroplex; we’re a hotbed of pop culture, dontcha know. In this case, the “Ice Ice Baby” reference is relevant not merely because November is when we get enough blessed cold for water to occasionally return to its solid state, but also because one Robbie Van Winkle once resided here. He was raised on the mean streets of Carrollton, right between the D and the F in D/FW. It’s where he gained the street cred* that earned him the nickname “Vanilla Ice.”

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In most of the country, October and November are the months when people talk about “Indian summer” — by which I suppose they mean warm, summery days in the fall. I’ve never experienced that, because I live in D/FW. We don’t have Indian summer; we just have plain old summer. It takes the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex a while to catch up with the idea of fall. Although the autumnal equinox occurs somewhere around September 21, that doesn’t mean that our fall actually starts that day. Oh my, no. We’re lucky if it gets in gear before mid-October. Meanwhile, we enjoy the tail end of the summer heat, and try to cram all the activities we can into those days that are actually bearable.

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Ah, September — or should I call you May revisited? September’s just as mild, though it’s kind of like May in reverse: we get the lingering echoes of summer rather than the foreshadowing. This is about the time D/FW starts to recover from the heinous heat and drought of the annual August onslaught. The recovery is gradual, but it’s notable, and not so precipitous that we can’t still enjoy the great outdoors. In fact, it’s easier to abandon the AC and go outside than in has been in months. Of course it’s still summer – that season lasts until mid-October here, no matter what the calendar says — but September summer is much easier to handle than July and August summer.

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So, August in Dallas/Fort Worth: welcome to the blast furnace, mon ami! It’s not uncommon for the area to enjoy triple-digit temperatures every day during the month of August, and you can be sure the Dallas Morning News will count up the Really Hot Days with the same breathless amazement they do every year. The local newscasters will make a big deal over it, too. It’s like it’s always some kind of a surprise. Where do they think we live, Connecticut or something? It’s hot here in August. Always. Until the Earth shifts in its orbit or the Sun loses its luster, that ain’t gonna change. 

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So, how hot is July in the Big D? Are you serious? Let me put it this way. This is your brain in July in Dallas/Fort Worth:

Any questions?

All smart-assery aside, I rather like this photo. It turned out better than I expected. See, I just got a new digital camera* so I could impress ya’ll with my photographic skillz, and this was the result of my first photo session. (I went back and put relevant photos in selected archive entries too, so don’t be too surprised if you see ‘em). I didn’t plan on the golden sky and sharp silhouettes; that just happened, I guess because of the nature of a digital camera, combined with the high haze in the sky and the fact that it was after 8 PM (hurray for Daylight Saving Time!). I’m probably lucky my camera still works after taking this picture, but it performed fine afterward.

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Oh, boy. June in Dallas/Fort Worth. How can I describe it?

In fortunate years, the merry, merry month of May flows gracefully into June, bequeathing a few moderately comfortable days before Hell sets in. This year was not a fortunate year; nor are most. I got more June than I bargained for this year, since I spent a good half of it moving home and business in an old Chevy pickup without air conditioning. Yea, although I drove through the valley of the shadow of death I could fear no evil, as I was too sweaty and overwrought to do more than survive from moment to moment. All that and hard physical labor, too. How in the hell did people live in this climate before air conditioning? Were they just tougher than folks are now, or am I just really, really spoiled?

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As much as I love the spring weather here in Dallas/Fort Worth, I always cringe whenever May rolls around, and my sense of foreboding grows stronger as the month proceeds. It’s not May’s fault: it’s because those fiendish months of June, July, and August are just around the bend, and I know it won’t be long until I either have to get used to swimming in sweat, or pay through the nose for air-conditioning. As you might guess, I usually just bend over, grab my ankles, and let the electric company have its way with me.

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If I had a machine that would let me suspend Dallas/Fort Worth within a single month’s weather forever, I would probably pick April (though May has its charms). April has most, if not all, of the best facets of Metroplex weather: the days are generally warm, the nights generally cool, it rains sometimes (but not every day!), the world’s still coming alive after its long winter’s nap, the Bradford pears that every city and most companies use for landscaping are in bloom, and if you head down toward Waxahatchie, you’ll probably see clouds of bluebonnets on the roadside and median. They’re not as dense as when I was a kid (naturally), but there are still plenty to see.

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