So You Think It’s Dry…

Johnny-on-the-Spot … by John Foster …

By the time we get to the midpoint of September, I’m, ready for fall so I can wear my cargo shorts and hooded sweatshirts until my wife tells me I’m making her cold.

Hmm.

But this year, we’ve hit a stretch of warm, sometimes hot weather, with few clouds and a lot of dry.

Lawn mowing has turned into bouncing a mower over what used to be a lawn and creating a mini dust storm.

Leaves have started to fall and so far, they’re not very colorful.

Sorta brown and crunchy.

So how dry is it?

It’s so dry…

My dust is dusty.

I’m spitting lint.

The trees and fire hydrants are whistling for the dogs.

The cows are giving evaporated milk.

The fish have ticks.

A cloud passed overhead and the ground sucked 5 raindrops out of it.

The government is considering a squirt gun buy-back program.

Robins are using pick axes to get worms out of the ground.

Kids are being encouraged to pee in the pool.

The Catholics are praying for wine to turn back into water.

Mud dawbers are walking the picket lines.

The dogs are marking their territory with chalk lines.

The river only runs twice a week.

Somebody held up the water tower at gunpoint.

Fish are knocking on doors, asking for a drink of water.

For baptisms, the Baptists are sprinkling and the Methodists are using “wet wipes”.

(Rim shots and groans as you see appropriate)

Now, while it might be dry where you are, it’s likely not as dry as the Atacama Desert in Chile.

This 600 mile long area along the South American coast in northern Chile, wedged in between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes Mountains averages .03 inches of rain a year.

Arica, Chili once logged a stretch of no rain that lasted 172 months or 14.33 years.

There are indications that the Atacama Desert received so significant rainfall from 1570 until 1971.

But, the nice thing is summer temperatures are normally in the mid-sixties.

My research turned up some “dry” songs, too.

Bon Jovi did “Dry Country”.

“Down in dry country, they’re swimming in the sand. Praying for some holy water to wash the sins from off our hands.”

Bruce Springsteen had “Dry Lightning”.

“As I look out the window, the only thing in sight is dry lightning on the horizon line. Just dry lightning and you on my mind.”

Cat Stevens offered up “Drywood”.

“Like dry wood takes to fire, the truth will come to you. Like streams that seek the ocean, they will find ways through.”

Even the B-52’s, when they weren’t in the “Love Shack”, did “Dry County” but that’s more about “adult beverages” not being available in a particular area.

“Kickin’ stones and laughin’ low. Nowhere to go. It’s a dry, dry county, such a dry, dry county.”

By the way, the meteorologist in me can’t let me overlook “The Boss’” song “Dry Lightning.

When it gets hot and dry in the summer, some folks like to say they see “heat lightning” off in the distance.

It’s actually just regular lightning dancing in the clouds at a distance, too far away for you to see the bolts.

Now, my “dry” research took me to the classic 1944 “torch” song, “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out to Dry.”

My two favorite versions are by Frank Sinatra and Linda Ronstadt.

The great Sammy Cahn came up with the lyrics.

“When I want rain, I get sunny weather. I’m just as blue as the sky. Since love is gone, can’t pull myself together. Guess I’ll hang my tears out to dry.”