It is a strange day in southern California when you wake up and the temperature reads 46 degrees. I’m not complaining, I spent 40-plus years in the Midwest and I still visit there regularly and prefer the softness of the air mattress over the possibility of being banished to the back porch to “suck it up and be a man you California wuss!”
Because we are wusses. People who are native Californians will try to tell you there are seasons here, but the sun does strange things to your head so I think it’s just the long term effects. I have never seen a more fearful expression on a human being’s face than when a young woman asked me what winter is like, she was considering going to Northwestern University, and I said “do you have any idea what a wind chill of twenty five degrees below zero feels like.”
The horror crept into her face the way a smile creeps onto the face of a Scrooge. She had to let it seep in, she had to calculate the fact that she probably has to wear a heavy coat when it hits 50 here so how many layers were required to insulate her body from that temperature. Now that I think of it, maybe her face looked that way because she was trapped in a math loop carrying the decimal.
But you see “business casual” in Los Angeles means shorts and a t-shirt. So it is just strange not to don that in the morning. Yes, yes, I know you’re going to react with “come on!” I’m just saying that I love a life lived in shorts. Easier footwear selection, easier to wash, you never even consider ironing shorts, and one pair of khakis goes with everything. And it’s just what I’m used to.
Really that’s all. It’s just what you’re used to. And we want it perfect. When it’s cold, people want it warm, when it’s hot people want it cooler. The fact is, we’re all wusses.
But…I wrote a blog on Tuesday about how my inner Christmas jukebox only plays two songs and this morning I’m humming “White Christmas.” And it’s probably all due to the cold.