I guess it's only fair that if I'm going to let our West Coast folks know what the midwest and east coast weather miseries are like, the least I can do, in the interest of fair play and equal time, is let our midwest and east coast folks know what miseries we, who live on the west coast must endure:
It's another typical lousy day in San Diego County. Not a cloud in the sky. Nothing but blue. I get so dadblamed tired of seeing nothing but blue sky. Where have all the clouds gone? Why aren't they here, like ol' Ma Nature intended? It would help blot out that icky ol' sun that insists on beating down on this land of ours and pelting us with 70-80 degree weather. In the wintertime, for Pete's sake! You'd think Ma Nature would know better and give us a good belting of snow and nice, and cool winds, but, no, we have to swelter!
I just had to go out and get the morning's copy of the daily paper. I threw on a pair of tennis shorts, my Birkenstock sandals, a polo shirt, and I was ready for the lengthy 80' hike to the newspaper tube, adjacent to the mailbox, next to the street. Later today, I'll have to repeat that long, long walk in order to pick up the mail. Letters will probably be hot, what with laying in that black mailbox for hours.
And those damned birds! Where do they get off singing merrily like that? Don't they know it's winter time? Those male birds are obviously trying to impress those good looking female birds. I bet they have sex on their minds . . . just like they do every spring.
Just like the Sexy Swenson's next door. They go at it night and day. 'Course, we knew when we moved here to San Diego County that all Californians had hot tubs, were swingers, and partied all night, skinny dipping, running around au naturel. (Which I learned, means 'naked.') But, we thought surely Californians would give it a rest now and then.
Suzy Swensen waves at me as I go to pick up the paper and says, "Why don't you come on over for a swim? I won't bite!" Then she gives me one of those pearly white smiles of hers and juts her naked boobs out a wee but firther. I think she's trying to impress me. Maybe even entice me. But I've seen her in the altogether for the last five years, so it doesn't phase me much anymore. No sir, not the least bit.
I holler back, "No, thanks kindly, but Evelyn is making me some hot oatmeal and tea and I wouldn't want it all to get cold after she has slaved over a hot stove."
"Oh, Evelyn wouldn't mind. Heck, bring her along. Maybe we could have a threesome!"
"Um, she doesn't know how to swim," I said, lamely.
"Wasn't talking about swimming, silly," she said, with the cute little smile of hers.
"Well," sez me, "Wednesday is Evelyn's standard appointment at the beauty shop and she has to go shortly. You know, make herself beautiful for me."
"Maybe you could come over after she leaves?" she said.
(I'm going into parentheses here so Suzie can't hear or read what I'm saying to you. What do I do now? I've painted myself into a corner! Sexy Suzie will know I'm home all alone. Vulnerable. A mere man, with the remote possibility that I might succumb to her charms and obvious assets. I have that weakness, you know.)
"Well," sez me, "I promised Evelyn I'd follow her in just a few minutes after she leaves and, um . . . run some errands she normally does, while she gets prettified."
It was a weak excuse but, for the moment at least, it worked.
"Oh, okay," she said, "if you change your mind, I'm gonna be laying out all morning. You can come over and put sun tan lotion all over my body if you want. I wouldn't mind. Not at all!" With that she gives me a great big wink and that great big smile of hers, and she juts out those perky college coed type boobs of hers again (I think she's just showing off) and goes back to her recliner.
I escape back in to the house, unfold the paper and Evelyn asked me what took so long.
I said, and headed for the family room to read my paper.
Sexy Suze is just one neighbor. She and her hubby or live-in boyfriend, whoever he is, are swingers. Most every night, sometimes daytimes too.
Our other neighbors, the Van Hoofendorfs, are nudists. Not swingers. Just nudists. There is a difference. And they smoke pot. Most any evening you can get a nice high from just breathing in the air that the vicious California winds gently waft from their property over to ours. Many is the time that Miss Evelyn and I have spent an entire hour just looking at a yellow pencil and meditating on it, thanks to the fumes from next door. And we've also gotten the munchies way too often. Again, thanks to the folks next door.
The nudity doesn't bother us, though. After all, when we go to our place of worship we strip off all our clothes, walk through a warm, cleansing shower, then sit around a pool and eat grapes, and unleavened bread, and bananas and such and we listen to tinkling bells and the playing of a sitar. A monk eventually comes out and repeats various mantras and we marvel at these. It is a highly religious experience. So much so that we try to go every night. Even when American Idol is on. We do make our sacrifices.
Yes, folks, this is California, southern style.
We had to adapt because as any anthropologist will tell you, folks from Nebraska and Oklahoma (which I and Evelyn are from, respectively) do not disrobe, sometimes not even to shower or bathe. These same folks seldom have sex. And when they do it's will all the lights off and indoors. We, Evelyn and I, had led sheltered lives. But, we have learned to adapt, living here in Southern California.
So, you see, we have our miseries to suffer through in the wintry months, just as those of you who live in the midwest and east coast do.
Drat! I just looked at the weather conditions for Escondido, the city in which we live and cavort.
58°F | °C
Wind: E at 1 mph
As you can readily see, we have a cold snap. It's a miserable 58 degrees at 9am with an Easterly wind roaring through our town at a mighty 1 mph.
I may have to call our neighbors together to hold a communal prayer session asking the Great Spirit to grant us some relief.
But that's what we have to endure out here, folks.
All of us Californias have this type of lifestyle. It's just our way of doing things and coping.
I'd write more but I think I'll mosey on over and have Suzie Swensen give me a massage with warm baby oil. I had a leg cramp in the middle of the night and perhaps she, as a good neighbor, can give me some relief.
I'd ask Evelyn to give me a massage but, as I mentioned earlier, she's off to her beauty shop for her regularly scheduled beauty appointment.
The errands can wait.
Besides, I do feel kinda . . . .well, you know.