When I lived in Bikersfield, I was told it was hotter than Hell, and at other times, colder than Hell. Therefore, when I die, I should be thoroughly acclimated.
I'm over here on the coast, and the Alaskan wind is howling in my front door. I miss those warm summer nights.
And I miss your breeze...
Seriously, I love to go over there, but I think it would be too cold to stay.