It’s so hot in the Phoenix-Scottdale resort corridor this week that hotel guests are begging management to turn the air conditioning on (yes, amazingly some hotels in the Phoenix desert disable their air conditioning in winter, which is like a celebrity swearing off prenuptial agreements.

Sooner or later, you’re going to need it. Probably sooner.

Still, to be fair to the offending hotels, we’re talking 80 degrees in February hot. Businessmen and women could be seen around the hotels in Scottsdale for the last few weeks, fanning themselves at the pool between conference sessions.

It’s so warm in Las Vegas that people are calling for the hotels to open their topless pools right around Groundhog’s Day. OK, one person is, but still …

We’re talking 75 degrees on Thursday. You usually have to worry about the Vegas winds playing havoc with your game in the wintertime. This year your biggest fret is having enough suntan lotion.

Look, I know I called Arizona and Vegas weatherproof golf destinations in a fall article, but this is bordering on the ridiculous.

The ridiculously good.

“This is one of the best winters we’ve ever had weather wise,’’ said Scott Bowles of Las Vegas Golf Travel, a golf packaging company.

Which is where I say, “Shut up.” That’s shut up to President Bush (with all due respect, I don’t need a wiretap), about Americans being “addicted to oil.” Shut up to all those global warming scientists predicting that North America’s going to drop into the ocean … in oh, about two days. Shut up to all those global-warming-doesn’t-exist scientists calling these weather patterns natural trends (Hey our bad, if the icecaps catch on fire, but did Pete Rose even bat .500?)

Really, do you care? Who are we kidding? You’re a golfer. Which mean, if statistics show anything, you’re probably north of 50. Or at least think like a guy north of 50. How much time do you have left to get that hole in one anyways?

So shut up and golf, man. You haven’t even wielded a hybrid in South Africa yet. Heck, you haven’t even made it up to Whistler British Columbia to golf amongst the bear droppings at the delightful rushing creek Chateau Whistler Golf Club. And who knows how long those Canucks are going to last with their weak defenses?

What about the grandkids!, you wail.

Please. Again, you’re a golfer. Which means you’ve probably blew the grandkids, the great grandkids and the great great grandkids’ inheritance on a bunch of shiny new clubs, swing aids and motivational coaches. All so your buddies wouldn’t make fun of you for shanks short of the ladies tees (which they still do).

Believe me, you might welcome the idea of the great grandkids never having a chance to learn how they should curse you.

So, tee them up. This cannot last forever. There were golfers swinging in 60 degree days in the New York metro area in January. It was 90 degrees in LA on Grammy day.

Global warming, a trend, who cares! Work that golfer’s tan!

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