Thursday, June 5, 2008

Sizzling bacon



Riding the bus this time of year in Phoenix becomes 2 things: Survival Mode and Funky Season.

Survival Mode

I realized pretty quickly after moving to Phoenix 12 years ago that taking the bus here was different than any other place. In the "hot season" (as I'll call it which can start as early as April and last as long as mid-October) it starts to become a matter of personal survival. The strongest, the most resourceful, the most clever do the best and are rewarded by a fully arctic-mode bus air conditioning system. The weakest are quickly dwindled away either by fainting or become so overheated and sun-crazy that they become the person walking down the street gesturing and talking loudly to themselves with a full, leathery tan. I guess you could call either of those a form of heat exhaustion or sun stroke. Neither seem fun to me.

To prevent this, what I've come up with is a bag weighted-down more and more by what become essential travel items. The basics are what they suggest to you on the friendly clip art and stock photography PSAs provided on the bus. Happy smiling people stare down at you wearing hats, white clothing and an umbrella while another couple chug on water bottles. So that starts the bare minimum for me. The full array could consist of:
  1. water
  2. hat
  3. umbrella
  4. long sleeve shirt (to cover from sun or to stay warm on the bus)
  5. blue ice packs (to keep food, lunch or water cold—it will actually get hot)
  6. snacks (sometimes the bus breaks down while running the a/c on full blast in 110 degree weather)
  7. book (for waiting and reading on the bus)
  8. iPod (so pissed-off people who are waiting un-preparedly don't talk your ear off about how late the bus is—what am I supposed to do about it?)
  9. phone (to call for help if you're having a stroke? or when that pissed-off person gets annoyed that you're not as annoyed as them which sounds ludicrous but has actually happened to me "well you're awful patient!")

Funky Season

When the temperature is consistently over 110, despite the "dry heat", the body still is sweating profusely and there's really nothing that can be done about it. It's funky time. Time to start recognizing that all those odors you used to think emanated from things like garbage cans or strange greasy alleys come from human beings. And actually, it's just the guy standing up in front of you while you sit and try VERY HARD to breathe through your mouth, stare as far downward as possible and look intensely interested in the book you're not-reading. Even you could be the funky person—you're only human and you're not different than the other people there. It's not as though people forgot to shower, it's just that it doesn't matter anymore. I think Phoenix was even voted the sweatiest city by some deodorant company (do they sell more to us?). And while we'll never compare to a New Orleans day of 98 degrees and 90% humidity, there's something equally unsettling and apocalyptic about starting your day off at 7am and 95 degrees with a high of at least 110. It is an oven, fair and square. Stand in front of any oven long enough and you will squint your eyes and start to sweat.

Maybe i should add eye drops to that list? Oh yeah, and a dust mask for when monsoon season hits and dust storms hit oh-so-conveniently right around quitting time.

My bag is getting heavy.

2 comments:

girlxty said...

furry, I feel for you! Today I rode multiple buses (108 degrees today). I had my water, umbrella, pit stick and sun block in action. One bad choice was my pants selection for the day. I forgot what happened the last time I wore my sassy orange pants. I was doing a workshop at a hospital, I thought I would be tough and not turn on the air in the car to save a little energy. To my surprise, when I got out of the car, my pants had soaked streaks from my lower butt cheeks to my knees. Thank goodness for the 'dry heat' most of the wet evaporated by the time I got to the hospital from my parking spot.
Anyway, back to the bus...I wore the orange pants today. I could feel the sweat pool and trickle down my legs as I stood waiting for the McDowell bus. All I could think about was the the hospital incident. Once again, I am glad to have a large bag that covers my butt in a situation like this. Thankfully, the bus was full, so I had to stand, avoiding the streaks.
Yeah bus!

Unknown said...

the new orbit comes goes right from my house to my office.

that said bus travel can be tough.