It's hot in Georgia, but at least we're not in Quriyat

Every few years, some liberal celebrity like Barbra Streisand, Miley Cyrus or Spongebob Squarepants makes some kind of comment about the Republican or Trumpian running for president along the lines of, “If so-and-so wins, I'm moving to Canada.”

I used to think that was ridiculous. I mean, sure, Canada has better and cheaper health care, less crime, a national anthem even Ke$ha could sing and the unparalleled excitement of curling, but I've always thought Canada was too darn cold.

Granted, I've only been to Canada once, and that was just over the Detroit River in Windsor, Ontario, which lies south of entire U.S. States such as Maine, Washington Montana, Minnesota and the alleged state of North Dakota. That's right — the southernmost city in any of those states is farther north than Windsor, Canada.

Still, like many dumb Americans, I've pictured all of Canada as humans bundled up in 12 layers of coats going out onto the ice in blowing snow to find a baby seal to club to death and then returning to the igloo to watch some curling on TV. That's not a place I would have considered running off to even if they elected Kanye West president.

Until now.

It's not just that I could use a little affordable health care. It's not that I became fond of clubbing baby seals. It's not even that they have a prettier leader who speaks in complete sentences, which must be why U.S. administration officials tweeted that there is “a special place in hell” for Justin Trudeau.

I'd consider moving to Canada now because it's hot as hell in Georgia right now. I don't know if it's the result of that Chinese hoax some call climate change or just the fact that I'm getting old and can't take the heat, but Canada has to be at least a little cooler than here. This ridiculous heat has me burning through medicinal margaritas at an alarming rate.

I have a friend who just moved to Vegas and was bragging that he had a fancy golf course to himself because everyone out there was too wimpy to golf in the middle of the day because it was 105 degrees. That meant he could play 18 holes with a cart for just $13. For $13, I'd play the Special Place in Hell Dunes Course with Justin Trudeau.

As they say, though, “it's a dry heat” out there in Vegas. It's a soaking wet heat down South. The weather report will say that the high temperature will be just 93 or so and I'll think that it's safe to go do a little work on the back forty (feet from the back of the house to the property line.) But after five minutes of digging post holes for little projects like the log flume I'm planning for the backyard hill, I'm soaking wet. I won't mind getting soaking wet when the log flume is complete, but it's no fun just melting.

As we say down here, “It's not the heat — it's the humidity.” I don't know much of that science stuff beyond making volcanoes in seventh grade, but I do know that when you add 122 percent humidity to 93 degrees with zero wind, you get a heat index or “real feel” temperature of approximately 145 degrees. I'm almost certain that's true. If not, this is America 2018, so I'll just keep saying it over and over until it is true.

I don't know if it was a dry heat, but last month the city of Quriyat in Oman had an overnight low temperature of 108.7 degrees. That's the highest low temperature ever recorded. I'm sure that when it dips all the way down to 108.7 at night, you don't really care whether it's a dry heat or a wet heat. That's just hot. An oven is a dry heat, but I don't want to sleep in one.

I am concerned that Canada might someday build a wall to keep out hot, sweaty Americans in search of a break from the heat or perhaps affordable insulin. In that case, I guess I'll just have to come to grips with the Georgia heat — and thank God we're not in Quriyat.