Boston Broil

I’ve introduced you to the first three.
Shall we meet the fourth?

Because around here, Quattro Stagioni is more than a type of pizza.

You’ve already seen the fall.

The winter.

And the spring.

Ladies and Germs, allow me to introduce the Boston summer.
It’s happening right now.

(I sure hope his girlfriend is asleep.)

Around here, a heatwave is defined as three or more consecutive days where the temperature is above 90 degrees.

I think this qualifies.

In my 20 years in the UK, I found the climate to be rather bland.

London’s weather is like Boston’s weather.
With both ends chopped off.

My town is much colder in the winter.
And much hotter in the summer.

You would never see this in London.

A few numbers will give you the big picture.

The average January low temperature in London is 40.
The average high is 48.

The average low for Boston is just 22.
The high? Only 37.

In June, London’s average low is 56.
The high? Only 70.

In Boston, the June temp gets down to 59 on average.
And up to 77.

I only wish it were that cool today.

The other big weather variable is rainfall.
In London you get around 22 annual inches of precipitation.

In Boston, you get about 44.
Which is twice as much.

And it often comes down like this.

I remember being surprised at this statistic when I first saw it.
But my two decades in London confirmed its veracity.

Some people still refuse to believe it.
How can Boston be wetter than London?

As Mr Twain was said to observe:
“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”

I knew it rained a lot less in London.

Because I always walked everywhere.
And almost never got wet.

It did happen. Once in a while.

But my mirror kept telling me that the sun must be out a lot.
As I rambled in the beautiful English countryside.

Often with my hiking buddy Stephen.

And bagged plenty of rays out partying with Lovely Anna.

Of course, the Brits could never believe such a thing.
Because they suffer from solar amnesia:
When the sun shines, they forget.

But they are not the only ones deluded by the “popular wisdom”.
When I came back to the US, people would ask me:
“Where did you get your tan?”

At first, I used to say “London”.

But faced with increasing incredulity, I finally just started to say “Morocco”.

It was easier that way.

It’s already starting to cook out there!

I must remember to drink plenty of fluids.

Luckily there’s a cool breeze.

Down by the River Charles.

Not so long ago, the river looked like this.

A refreshing remembrance.

Be sure to hydrate, people!

And stay way cool.