Sun! It's amazing!
I know I probably shouldn't be sun gushing, when I likely see the sun a heck of a lot more than most people. It rarely rains here, and when it does rain, the media gets out those Storm Watch banners and the City starts to have evacuations. People video tape hail so small you can't tell its hail on the film and send it to the TV station...and the TV station PLAYS it. (o.O)
I guess I've seen weather, and although it is a nice change of pace to have some it is just the weather. Don't get me wrong, some people have had significant property and life endangerment...but this is the way with all severe weather. Roofs collapse under heavy, wet west coast snow, flash floods clog the gutters and then people's dry wall gets damaged beyond repair, beloved pets (or children) get washed away in the swollen rivers. And next week, when the saturated ground gets pounded again, there will be houses walking downhill, particularly in the burn areas. Really, it is traumatic and serious stuff...but...let's keep it in perspective. We are not feeling the same degree of human suffering and financial loss that the people of Haiti are enduring. Yet, local coverage has put Haiti on a very distant back burner to show some over fluffed spokesmodels...er, reporters stumbling through knee deep snow in Big Bear or Mammoth with this narrative, "Oh, it's terrible here. These cars have been completely snowed in, there is no way they will be leaving any time soon."
Huh. Now maybe this is my pioneer blood talking, or my midwestern weather hardening or my proletariat background bubbling to the surface...but it just inn't that deep in the parking lot. If the roads are plowed, get yerself a damn shovel and move the freakin' snow. It isn't rocket science, and it isn't breaking rocks on the chain gang. In fact, you may find you don't have to go to pilates for a day or two and that you could actually have a scone with that triple nonfat, sugar free caramel latte from Bigbucks. And that's just the snow...the fact that there is wet stuff pouring out of the sky (and yes, when it rains here it bloody pours), some lightning, a bit of hail and some strong winds...we're all on high alert.
Again, I'm not making light of the fact that some folks are seriously endangered here, and that significant property damage is about to occur, it's just that we lose sight of perspective locally because we just usually never have to deal with the weather. There isn't any. We wake up, it might be a tad foggy or hazy, but it will burn off and warm up. Shirt sleeves in December and January is pretty much the norm...although you will see the So Cal acclimated grab for sweaters and sweatshirts when it dips to 60 degrees. We can always tell the tourists because they've hit the beach in bikinis in March when everyone else is pulling their cardigans tighter and complaining about the cold.
It's an insular place to live, where the drama of a 2mm hailstone storm caps anything else that may be happening in the world. I can see this kind of thing being newsworthy when crops and livelihoods are at stake, but I have to ask those of you in farmland...when is the last time you saw a farmer fussing about a five second spray of hail 1/2 the size of a pea? You don't...they are too busy to bother with such trivia.
I think El Lay makes you soft, because life is just so damn easy here (until the big one finally wipes us off the face of the earth). So we worry about carbs and facial hair, botox and getting 'work' done...because nothing larger seems to trouble our lives. El Lay needs more storms, it builds character. You would think that this area would be hyper concerned about coping with a major earthquake--and it would be unfair of me to say that we have been callous, there is spin and tweetfeed and lots of dollars being thrown at the 'problem'--but concern? I'm not feeling it.
This city is a heartless, shallow bitch with false tits and a collagen smile, who hates the rain because it melts her make up. But I'm jumping on my bike in short sleeves in January, to take in the sea spray and the clean air...I do love living here, but I fear it will make me shallow.
I guess I've seen weather, and although it is a nice change of pace to have some it is just the weather. Don't get me wrong, some people have had significant property and life endangerment...but this is the way with all severe weather. Roofs collapse under heavy, wet west coast snow, flash floods clog the gutters and then people's dry wall gets damaged beyond repair, beloved pets (or children) get washed away in the swollen rivers. And next week, when the saturated ground gets pounded again, there will be houses walking downhill, particularly in the burn areas. Really, it is traumatic and serious stuff...but...let's keep it in perspective. We are not feeling the same degree of human suffering and financial loss that the people of Haiti are enduring. Yet, local coverage has put Haiti on a very distant back burner to show some over fluffed spokesmodels...er, reporters stumbling through knee deep snow in Big Bear or Mammoth with this narrative, "Oh, it's terrible here. These cars have been completely snowed in, there is no way they will be leaving any time soon."
Huh. Now maybe this is my pioneer blood talking, or my midwestern weather hardening or my proletariat background bubbling to the surface...but it just inn't that deep in the parking lot. If the roads are plowed, get yerself a damn shovel and move the freakin' snow. It isn't rocket science, and it isn't breaking rocks on the chain gang. In fact, you may find you don't have to go to pilates for a day or two and that you could actually have a scone with that triple nonfat, sugar free caramel latte from Bigbucks. And that's just the snow...the fact that there is wet stuff pouring out of the sky (and yes, when it rains here it bloody pours), some lightning, a bit of hail and some strong winds...we're all on high alert.
Again, I'm not making light of the fact that some folks are seriously endangered here, and that significant property damage is about to occur, it's just that we lose sight of perspective locally because we just usually never have to deal with the weather. There isn't any. We wake up, it might be a tad foggy or hazy, but it will burn off and warm up. Shirt sleeves in December and January is pretty much the norm...although you will see the So Cal acclimated grab for sweaters and sweatshirts when it dips to 60 degrees. We can always tell the tourists because they've hit the beach in bikinis in March when everyone else is pulling their cardigans tighter and complaining about the cold.
It's an insular place to live, where the drama of a 2mm hailstone storm caps anything else that may be happening in the world. I can see this kind of thing being newsworthy when crops and livelihoods are at stake, but I have to ask those of you in farmland...when is the last time you saw a farmer fussing about a five second spray of hail 1/2 the size of a pea? You don't...they are too busy to bother with such trivia.
I think El Lay makes you soft, because life is just so damn easy here (until the big one finally wipes us off the face of the earth). So we worry about carbs and facial hair, botox and getting 'work' done...because nothing larger seems to trouble our lives. El Lay needs more storms, it builds character. You would think that this area would be hyper concerned about coping with a major earthquake--and it would be unfair of me to say that we have been callous, there is spin and tweetfeed and lots of dollars being thrown at the 'problem'--but concern? I'm not feeling it.
This city is a heartless, shallow bitch with false tits and a collagen smile, who hates the rain because it melts her make up. But I'm jumping on my bike in short sleeves in January, to take in the sea spray and the clean air...I do love living here, but I fear it will make me shallow.