The people here in the Valley of the Sun do love them some weather. I think it’s probably because they really have so little of it. Variation, that is.
Threat of what desert-dwellers excitedly refer to as a “weather event” (which can mean anything from a drizzle of rain, just enough breeze to make the topmost fronds of your palm tree barely sway, or a haboob strong enough to blow away a small javalina) will bring the most sensible people down to the edge of their driveway to take a gander at just what is comin’ in. “A-yup,” these otherwise normal-speaking folks will say to their neighbors who are all also at the edge of their driveway, “we’ve got some weather comin’ in.”
It’s like watching the townfolk in the movie The Music Man waiting to see what the Wells Fargo wagon was bringing to them.
As for the weather people, er, meteorologists, they practically quiver with excitement when they can report something besides temperatures. They are simply breathless at the prospect of a so-called incoming weather event. I must say that it drives me crazy that the women weather….er, meteorologists here wear cocktail dresses to report the weather; I think they just want to do something to spice up the forecast.
My brother has always claimed that they just insert the occasional cloud in the 7-day forecast picture to get people’s hopes up. My theory is that’s why someone inserted the ridiculously high temperatures on the Fox News weather forecast that I linked to in last Saturday’s blog. Let’s shake it up a bit, folks!
All this is to say that in the days immediately preceding the Super Bowl, the Phoenix metro area experienced a rare few days of gray skies and actual rain.
Now, when I say rain, I don’t mean downpours. Even what they call the Monsoon Season is what our friends in say, Seattle would call heavy rain showers. You know, something they might want to shove Seahawks Coach Pete Carroll out into about now.
But during the days just before the Super Bowl, Phoenix hosted a big golf tournament featuring Tiger Woods (who played the worst round of golf since he was wearing diapers). What a disappointment that the weather all three days was cloudy, and on the second day of the tournament it was, quite literally, rainy. It’s rarely rainy in Phoenix. As I said above, it might drizzle. The skies might be cloudy. But it rarely rains. Dang the luck.
But it’s rubbing off on Bill and I, because Sunday morning, there we were in our back yard in our pajamas taking pictures of the area behind our house that was draped in fog. It was mysterious and lovely.
The perfect weather event.