Hot is not enough
Just as Alaskans have numerous words for cold and snow, we Kentuckians should have as many for heat. “Hot, huh?” That’s my usual line when the temperature tops 80 degrees. But in a state where winters are waning — and weather is a staple of our community conversation — our vocabulary can no longer run simply hot and hotter.
Let’s agree that hot, as a general descriptor, is accurate for a temperature at about 80 degrees. And humidity at 50 percent won’t change the overall heat effect. So if it’s 80 and clear, we are all permitted a simple, “Hot, yeah?”
But as the gauges rise, so too must the level of our discourse. Like Alaskans, we must tailor our language to our climate. Hot is not enough.
Here’s the high-temperature vocabulary I suggest (though I’m originally from frigid Michigan, so take this advice with a grain of street salt):
When the thermometer aches toward 90 degrees, and the humidity powers past 90 percent, we should leave mere “hot” behind and describe the situation using the kitchen verbs: Baking. Boiling. Broiling. How hot is that? If you’ve ever worked in a commercial kitchen without air-conditioning in July, you know.
Beyond this level — worse than a kitchen in July — is an open Kentucky field in August. Temperatures reach toward three digits, the barometer sloshing just behind. The effect is often worst at harvest time, when breezes die. To describe this level of virtually unendurable hotness, we need the harvest verbs: Scorching. Sweltering. Searing.
Now we may think the harvest verbs are the most extreme required to describe Kentucky’s weather. And we’d be right, for now. But word is that Kentucky’s last winter wasn’t an anomaly — that winters are waning and that Kentucky will one day need the highest level of hotness descriptors, the dreaded fireplace words: Combusting. Charring. Carbonized.