In order to prepare ourselves for the customary nine months of winter, ranging from the somewhat bitter to the bitterly vague, something in our regional character requires us to complain about the heat.

Complaining may get a bad rap elsewhere. Here in the land of rainy Fourths of July, it’s something of a civic duty.

It doesn’t need be too hot, like last summer’s record breaking heat wave. It doesn’t take much to get Western Washingtonians complaining.

However, it must not be pleasant, nor balmy, nor warm. A Saharan 83 degrees will do.

There must be sweat on our necks, and fans, and lingering at grocery store magazine racks and mercury climbing all the way to 89 degrees. Mercy!

Only then will we appreciate what we have. It has to be hot enough that we begin to fondly recall the gentle gloom we expect from our usually overcast skies. We have to long for the rain, miss it like a friend and hope for its hasty return. It’s a catharsis that makes our long, drawn-out, underwhelming winters bearable.

Now that summer appears to have arrived, please take the time to enjoy an afternoon or evening in the sun, have a drink on a patio, work on your farmer’s tan and keep the windows rolled down.

Then start fussing.