Dear Otus,
My company transferred me here from Albuquerque last November and all we've heard neighbors talk about is the summer misery, especially the so-called "humidity pods."
I was beginning to believe they were pulling my leg until last weekend when our 15-year-old daughter Kaitlyn woke up at her usual time of 11:15 a.m. screaming to high heaven.
It was the most blood-curdling wail I've ever been unfortunate enough to witness. It went on for a full minute.
I enclose a photo I took a half hour later. Kait's fine, shoulder-length red hair is normally straight as spaghetti and she's very particular about it, only using Nexxus Diametress Luscious Volumizing Shampoo ($14.99). Now she won't leave her bedroom.
May I tell her that her hair disaster was caused by the humidity pods and will one day pass? She's already talking about seeking juvenile emancipation or manumission or whatever it's called so she can move back to New Mexico and live with her aunt.
-- Hannibal Adportas,
Maumelle
Dear Hannibal,
It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you and to congratulate you on your promotion from the desert to Arkansas. The Natural State has many fine qualities, but low humidity is not one of them.
Granted, in Albuquerque with its 12 percent relative humidity, your bathroom mirror doesn't fog up during a shower. Your siding doesn't get covered in mildew and hairdos don't get frizzy.
But at least we have foliage that's green. New Mexico is 50 shades of brown.
Trust me, I feel Kaitlyn's pain. As a new arrival, her initial experience with humidity pods must have been horrific. See below for why this year was particularly nasty.
I would suggest to Kaitlyn that she go online and read the July 13, 1999, (29 Tamuz, 5759) article by Paul Greenberg in the Jewish World Review (jewishworldreview.com) that lists 50 ways to beat the heat and humidity pods. No. 4: "Make some fresh lemonade. Or as Robert Benchley once advised, get out of those wet clothes and into a dry martini."
But since Kaitlyn is not of legal drinking age even in Arkansas, No. 10 is more apropos: "Don't hurry back, or anywhere else. If you must hurry, do it slowly."
Native Arkansans learn to deal with the humidity at an early age, usually in pre-K. By middle school, girls have learned all the tricks, and our senior women-of-a-certain-age may even still have a stash of dress shields (available at Wal-Mart for $7.76 a pair) in their unmentionables drawer.
As far as Kaitlyn's frizzy hair is concerned, I consulted the humidity pod adviser at pod.com and the solution is right there in black and white.
Have her switch her shampoo to Kerastase Oleo Relax Serum. You can order 4.2 ounces for $29.99 on Amazon. It's a smoothing oil that uses shorea and palm oils to soften and detangle hair. It also has silicone to help fight frizz. It leaves hair smooth, glossy, and frizz free. It'll make Kaitlyn's hair look as if she had paid $50 for a professional salon blowout.
Finally, why was it that Kaitlyn and the rest of the state were blindsided by this year's humidity pod arrival? With all the gadgets and gizmos available to weather authorities these days, we're supposed to have at least 72 hours' warning.
Brice Ornish of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in Norman, Okla., said that with recent governmental cutbacks, his office is shorthanded and was ill-prepared to deal with the forecasting of the recent record floods in the region as well as keeping an eye out for the humidity pods.
In layman's terms, the pods snuck in under the radar.
It didn't help that the swarm arrived in the dead of night at 1:47 a.m. June 6. This was only the second time authorities have been caught off guard since 1952 when the National Weather Service began keeping pod records.
Estimates place this year's pod event at 2.8 on the Fujita scale (average is 2.5) and, according to Ornish, the floodwaters contributed to an upper-level convective moisture advection that coalesced with ambient anticyclonic barotropic systems to adversely affect the Bulk Richardson Number (BRN) that manifested in the sudden pod difluence.
I don't know if advance warning would have helped Kaitlyn adjust, but until next time, Kalaka suggests she carry moist towelettes for quick and convenient cleanup.
Disclaimer: Fayetteville-born Otus the Head Cat's award-winning column of
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HomeStyle on 06/13/2015