Except I no longer live in Utah, where they
celebrate observe Pioneer Day on July 24 each year and there’s a parade and fireworks and various other activities for Utahns to commemorate the Mormon pioneers’ arrival in the Salt Lake valley in 1847.
I’d venture a guess that most Utahns don’t actually know what “Days of ’47” means. I’d bet most of them think it refers solely to the rodeo they have at this time every year, and the events surrounding that.
Speaking of rodeo: A few weeks ago I had dinner at Bonefish Grill on a quiet Sunday evening. The televisions over the bar were showing bull-riding, which always seemed to me an astoundingly odd way to make a living. But that night, I was utterly enthralled by it. So I can completely understand how in 2006 most folks’ understanding of an obscure 1847 reference would be entirely wrapped around their knowledge of the rodeo held every year under that title.
But back to now.
It was a busy weekend. Julie Anne’s brother Jimmy flew in Friday afternoon. He lives in Utah, so he could take a four-day weekend and only require one day off work. The three of us went to Port Orchard to visit JA and Jimmy’s brother David, sister-in-law Kristen, and nephew John, and we barbecued (well, David did) burgers and brats and enjoyed a casual evening on the sweltering Kitsap Peninsula. Once the sun went down, the temp dipped a precipitous 1.9°, so we returned to Seattle via the Southworth/Fauntleroy (West Seattle) ferry where we ran to the bow and enjoyed the even cooler-over-water breeze during the 20-minute crossing.
Saturday was Safeco Day for the Seattle Mariners’ home game versus the Boston Red Sox. Jimmy is a huge Red Sox fan and we had a connection for free game tickets, so we had our Saturday event plans set up a few weeks ago. We went to Pyramid at 10:45 for lunch before the game. Julie Anne and I ended up staying at Pyramid until the final minutes of the game, in fact, which meant that for much of the midday hours on Saturday, I drank beer and sipped water—by 19:00 I was radically run down. Fortunately I was home and could just relax, which I did so well that I was out like a light from, oh, about 19:30 until 23:30, when I woke up and stayed awake for 90 minutes or so. When I dozed off again, I slept fitfully until 04:21 Sunday, and I was so immediately wide awake that I actually got up at that absurd hour.
I managed to watch two DVDs from Netflix and do my laundry before 09:00. On a Sunday morning, no less.
Yesterday afternoon we all met at Julie Anne’s apartment on Lower Queen Anne for another barbecue. Kabobs this time, which meant we all got to play with our food as we put our kabobs together. I kept track of whose kabobs were whose so we could identify them after cooking, but as soon as I turned Grillmaster I promptly forgot the skewer line-up. We figured it out after a bit of sleuthing after the kabobs came off the grill. Damn, it was hot yesterday afternoon on that third-floor balcony.
It was strange to arrive home around 19:45 and have nothing to do for the several hours remaining on a Sunday night. Usually I still have a load or two of laundry I want to finish, or I need to vacuum or put away dishes or whatever other household stuff I may have ignored the rest of the weekend, but since I was up before the goddamned roosters yesterday morning I’d finished all that with plenty of time to spare. I was at loose ends so I opened all the doors and windows and enjoyed the bit of a breeze that was blowing along Main Street, and before I knew it, my living room was down to a relatively chilly 83°.
We’re supposed to cool back to our more normal temperature range of middle 70s to low 80s over the next few days, which will bring welcome respite from the local media’s endless barrage of “it’s another day of record-setting heat!!!” ratings pandering.
I still firmly believe that if the media never reported what the temperature was, most people would never feel hot in this climate.