Last March I wrote about Winter Induced Rage (W.I.R.), the phenomenon by which normally mild mannered Midwesterners turn into raging maniacs when the winter lasts a little too long. After the first half of this summer, however, I realized that W.I.R. really stands for Weather Induced Rage. Because, after suffering through a seemingly unending winter, Wisconsinites now face one of the hottest, most humid summers in memory.

Day after day the temperatures soar into the 90s. Night after night the humidity hangs in the air. There's no relief. Sooner or later, someone's going to crack and go on a shooting spree. I'm expecting, but dreading, the news.

Those of you from the South are probably laughing at my bitching about 90 degree weather. That's nothing, you say. And true, Southerners are better equipped to handle hot weather. But put yourself in the shoes of the Midwesterner for a moment. In the course of a mere twelve months, we go from snow and temperatures that dip to 10 or 20 below zero up to highs in the 90s. That's a 100 degree swing.

Midwesterners have to learn how to deal with these extremes. We learn how to drive in the snow and how to beat the heat. In fact, the weather is one of the reasons I stand behind my Geographical Theory of Presidential Candidates. All things being equal, I say, opt for the candidate who either grew up with, or now deals with, extreme seasons. I firmly believe that the candidate who has spent a lifetime overcoming these everyday hurdles won't be hampered by such insignifant obstacles as Congress, a hostile press, or even Islamofascist terrorists. Seriously. They are simply tougher than that.

So while the rest of you will hem and haw over who's a truer conservative or a less wacky liberal, I'll start to think about who has the toughest weather, Bill Owens' Colorado or Tim Pawlenty's Minnesota or Rudy Guilani's New York.