Vexed in Delaware, California, and Arizona

It's been that kind of week.

It had been cold in Delaware, so I was looking forward to a little California sunshine. Wouldn't you know it, it was colder still in California, with an ominous wind that I'm convinced was just laid on to inconvenience me. It's always warmer in California! Isn't it?

Everything in my suitcase was suddenly unsuitable. I spent four days in my son-in-law's hoodie, and slept in an old robe. The only time I got warm was in the shower. I also lost my cellphone---the one with everybody's number programmed into it. That's like losing your entire social history.

So California was a bit of a washout, weatherwise. (Besides my losing one of my favorite earrings in the hellhole my daughter calls a guestroom.) But we were going to Arizona. Surely it's warm, even uncomfortably hot, in Arizona? Well, it wasn't. Sedona was freezing, and furthermore it has no bookstores, which always makes me suspicious of a place. They didn't even have those books they always have in convenience stores--you know, books with black covers about aliens and vampires, or romance novels. No magazines either, unless you consider publications about trucks magazines.

Sedona was spectacular, but so what? What can you do with scenery, once you've taken its picture? There are also many, many psychics, tarot readers and other various nutcases who must have moved there from California, no doubt seeking a warmer climate.

So we moved on to Scottsdale, obviously a real place--realer than Sedona, at any rate. Scottsdale is either part of Phoenix or not, I couldn't decide. Anyway, one runs into the other, as towns do in New Jersey. It happened to be very cold in Phoenix, or Scottsdale if you prefer. The natives found it refreshing to have a cold spell in a season which is usually hot. Not me. Places should have the proper weather suitable to the season.

All of those places had unsuitable weather, due no doubt to global warmening.