I'm surprised how many people don't like the heat. Even motorcyclists. To me, there's nothing more exhilarating than riding my motorcycle in the heat. Feeling myself slicing through the hot air with few clothes on is ecstasy. Yet many motorcycle riders don't ride when it's too hot. I don't get that. For months we're stuck in cold, miserable weather where the sun sets too early, the days are too short, and people too crabby.

Most people I know suffer in the heat. It doesn't make them frustrated like cold weather does. It just slows them down, makes them uncomfortable in their cars until the AC cools them off, and encourages them to ask the tired old question, "Is it hot enough for you?"

My answer is no. As far as I'm concerned the hotter it is, the happier I am. I devour the sun in all its delicious flavors, from clear open skies, puffy clouds, and desert dry air or woodland humidity. I drip like everyone else but I expect to. Somehow, sweat running from my pours feeling as if my body is getting washed from the inside out. Sweat doesn't bother me unless I have to wear a suit, which is never, so I don't have to suffer in a jacket and tie. As much as I adore the sun, I have empathy for people in the sales department who have to dress appropriately for their jobs. At least a shirt and tie and dress slacks.

Many of the people I work with wear shorts on the job. I don't. Wearing shorts to work makes me want to be outside, not in an air conditioned studio. When I did talk radio in Miami, I took my show out into the parking lot and had listeners come by to share their opinions instead of calling in on the phones. Those were the days when radio had more stuff to give away than Santa has toys. T-shirts, gift certificates, tickets to Dolphin games, free car wash passes, opportunities to spin the wheel for cash, and more. Promotion closets were stacked to the brim with stuff to give away.

By the way, Miami in the summertime isn't as uncomfortable as you might expect it to be. Trade winds move the air around, dispersing the heat. And while it was aggravating being stuck in traffic on I-95 north to Ford Lauderdale in the heat of the afternoon, once again, the AC made the commute comfortable.

The hottest place I've ever lived was Phoenix, Arizona. I remember taking out the trash out one night. At 9pm the thermometer read 110 degrees. During the day the heat hovered around 115. The Valley of the Sun traps that heat when the sun sets. In order to survive you MUST have a swimming pool close by which actually puts more humidity into the air, making it both hot and sticky.

Now that this blog is finished, I'm going out to sit in the sun for an hour or two and exercise my mind. It's 10 in the morning, the news is becoming repetitive, and already my I Phone shows it's 87 outside. Perfect for me, my brain, my imagination, and my life force. Sitting in the sun lets me gather thoughts for my afternoon show. What I'm going to say and do. And no, I won't be doing my show out in the parking lot. No one wants to be out there with me. The heat coming off the blacktop has to be 135 degrees. I love it. The rest of the staff doesn't. Even the ones wearing shorts or almost no clothes at all.