Complex Numbers

Revisited: "Naturally"

Spinning the dials on the ol' time machine, today we land on "Naturally" , from just over two years ago.

The entry was a 30DBC response, and the prompt was: Write about your favorite outdoor activities to do in the summer. Are there any activities you haven’t done that you want to try?

I have a distinct memory of shuddering when I first saw that prompt. I have a bio somewhere—not on a dating site, because I don't do dating sites—that describes me as a "dedicated indoorsman."

So, I opted for humor; specifically, hyperbole:

Well, my only favorite outdoor activity in the summer is: rushing from an air-conditioned car into an air-conditioned bar; if the accursed daystar is burning, add "while shading myself as much as possible."

And that's not entirely true. I rarely drive to bars, on the theory that I might have to leave my car there to Uber home, thus necessitating another trip, the next morning, while hung over. So the "car" in question is a rideshare.

I'm just as likely to walk to the bar. This is true no matter the outdoor temperature. That doesn't mean I'm enjoying the outdoors; it just means I'm a cheapskate.

Still, given a choice between being too hot and too cold, I will pick too hot every damn time, so if I'm going to do anything outside, it'll be in the summer. Of course, one is never given such a choice; either it's winter and too cold, summer and too hot, or a week or so in between when it's actually pleasant to be outside for five minutes when it's not raining.

This is only a slight exaggeration. We usually get more than a week of mid-range temperatures. Sometimes as many as two!

But this does give me the opportunity to talk about a phrase that triggers my grumpiness, to a possibly irrational degree: when someone says something like "I'd rather it be cold because I can always put on more clothes, but there's only so many I can take off."

It's not that those people are different from me. As with being a morning or night person, people prefer different things and it's hard to change that, even if I wanted to, which I don't. If this weren't the case, we wouldn't have people living in Alaska or, conversely, Arizona. So, okay, you prefer the cold; that's good to know. We can be friends, but we'll never take a Caribbean cruise together.

I think it's partly the implied naughtiness: tee hee, now you're picturing me naked. Thanks, I'm already doing that (if you're female) or repulsed by the idea (otherwise).

Worse, though, is that it's dead wrong.

Ever seen people adapted to extreme heat? I don't mean the scantily-clad jungle-dwellers of various tropical societies; they've usually got some shade to cool off in. I mean, like, the desert-dwellers, the real-life inspiration for the Tusken raiders of Star Wars fame. Do they run around mostly naked? No, they're completely covered in loose-fitting clothing. This serves as portable shade and takes advantage of the slightest breeze to provide evaporative air conditioning.

And for me, when it's cold, it doesn't matter how many layers of clothing I wear; I'm going to freeze anyway. Once my hands or feet are cold, that's it. I'm done. If I wear enough clothing to delay this freeze, I'm uncomfortable and can barely move.

So I prefer to do as nature intended, stay indoors and run my A/C in the summer and heating in the winter. Yeah, compared to the vast bulk of humanity, both now and in the past, I'm living in privileged luxury. So? Might as well take advantage of it.

No, I'm of the firm opinion that we evolved to build shelters for a reason, and that reason is that so we could use them. Don't get me wrong; I love nature. I'm a big fan of watching webcams of natural areas.

And that's an excuse to re-link the webcam I talked about in that entry, since we're coming up on the summer solstice once again: The Brooks Falls Brown Bears   from Alaska.