Something very strange has been going on. It’s been on my mind for quite a while and I think it’s about time to raise the issue. Of course, you know what I’m talking about – this weather we’ve been having.
I can’t recall a milder summer. Granted, for the past too many years, I’ve been holing up in an air-conditioned residence in the San Fernando Valley, doing my best to keep from frying in the mid-day sun. Having moved over to the Westside, it’s been understandably cooler – about 20 degrees for the most part (one of the games I play is to contrast the temperatures of my former home with those of my new locale). Still, there’s more to the change this phenomenon than a mere change of address. Right?
It’s got to be tough going for the environmental lobby at this point. How do you raise money for the coming apocalypse when it’s 70 degrees and partly cloudy? The global warming deniers out there must be having a field day with this one.
I knew I’d eventually write a weather story. And I figured the dog days of August, typically a little slower in terms of the news cycle, would be a great opportunity to rant about the frickin’ heat. Who knew the story would instead be a calm, rational and pleasantly surprised collection of observations? An L.A. summer without skin-blistering, eye-scorching, mind-numbing heat strikes me as rather newsworthy, I must say.
Anyway, weather is a topic that anyone with sensory organs can discuss. And longtime residents of a region can usually speak with a fair amount expertise. The subject is often dismissed as mere small talk, but in the grand scheme of things, I doubt there’s much in life that is more important. The planet is in crisis, after all, even if it feels good right now.
