Arizona? I Think I’ll Pass

I’ll Take Our Jersey Mosquitos Over Scorpions Any Day

Like many Midcentury Moderns eager to shed the tax burden of the Garden State, my wife and I have been traveling the country auditioning places we might retire. In the past five years we’ve visited communities in Cape Cod, Delaware, North Carolina and the west coast of Florida. Our most recent foray was to the southwest — a time-honored destination of the newly old. We stayed with friends in a suburb of Scottsdale, who had moved from New Jersey in 2012.

We arrived June 17 to a temperature of 117˚F. An unusual heat wave — we were repeatedly told — for mid-June. Over the next six days, as we traveled between Phoenix and Sedona, the daytime temperatures hovered at 109˚F. Forget this “dry heat” of which westerners speak. It was beastly.

I noticed that Arizonians endure heat waves the way we easterners endure our winters: they stay indoors. Although, during an Arizona heatwave there is a slight reprieve. People can go walking or running before 8 and after 6.

The first thing you notice is the lack of color. Phoenix is located in the desert. You know, like in Lawrence of Arabia.

On the 120-mile trip up to the Red Rocks of Sedona—cruising at the local pace of 80 mph — all you can see is sand, cacti, and low green vegetation. Even the houses blend in. And forget about what we think of as lawns. In Arizona, the distinguishing feature of everybody’s yard are the rocks — interspersed with the occasional agave plant and, of course, the ubiquitous cacti.

The next thing you notice is the distinctly post-apocalyptic absence of people and cars. Maybe it’s because everybody’s inside sucking on the the air-conditioning. Maybe on balmy 90˚ days, there’s a great crush of humanity — with buskers all jostling for a piece of sidewalk, while kids on skateboards weave in and out of highly-choreographed flash mobs. Maybe. All I know is that, compared to New Jersey, the place felt deserted.

But pay no attention to this heat, our friends say. You should be here between January and March. It’s perfection. Highs in the 80s and mid 50s at night!

Well maybe. I could get used to springlike winters, but not Arizona’s version of a household pest. We have mosquitos; they have scorpions. We were instructed to never leave anything on the floor, and if you forgot and did leave something on the floor, to shake it out vigorously — especially in the case of footwear. Believe me I never left anything on the floor or walked barefoot. They have an exterminator spray monthly to keep the scorpions at bay.