California Here I Come...

Let me tell you about my first happenings back in good ole California. First was I realized how much I missed humidity. To feel moisture in the air is indescribable. While standing in front of the airport waiting to be picked up, I raised my hand and just felt the air. (I'm sure the security guards that I was nuts but I didn't care) I felt the moisture and I knew, I was home. Granted, the humidity is nothing like the East, but its definitely more then Utah.

Second, the people. Oh the people in California are in deed special. We arrive at a Norm's diner for a quick freshening up. But as we drive towards the entrance I look and notice a sort of colorful character. Standing at the parking entrance is an old, white haired, leathery-skinned, tattooed, man. But this wasn't the first thing that caught my eye, oh no. This man was wearing a white tank top, and what really had me drawn to him, this most interesting of human beings, was his long, plaid skirt. Yes this gentleman was wearing a skirt with sandals. Not a kilt, not a lava lava, or any type of clothing that is culturally accepted to be worn by humans of the male persuasion. It was a regular, girly, church-like skirt. But to make the story even better was, he was conversing with a young brunette holding a cane, who by the looks of her, could easily have this man on his knees in his pretty skirt begging for his life. What a sight to see.

Next on the people adventure was the 10 second walk from the car to the actual door entrance of the diner. Where thru the huge side window you could see 4 middle-aged latinos simultaneously turn their heads to check out who was coming their way. I'm sure I could imagine their disappointment as they hoped to see some foxy ladies out on the town, but in actuality it was well, a mom with 3 of her children. (We don't need to go into detail as to how we looked or how old we are). Just as fast as they had turned their heads towards us they quickly turned them back toward their drinks, I'm sure in embarrassment for being mistaken. It's ok boys, we wouldn't choose you either.

Third are the sights. As we are driving East on the 91 we see 2, not 1, but 2 firework displays. One I am certain, is from the "Happiest Place on Earth" and the other well, I assume the ending of some sports game. The Angels perhaps? Oh how I love fireworks. The color, the height, the noise, wonderment.

Lastly, the drivers. Oh the drivers. Now, I'm the first to admit I complain about the Utah, or Utah County drivers (whether they are from the state or not) on a daily basis, but there is something unique about California drivers. I love how the old men are driving 55 mph in a 66 mph, which is really a 70- 75 mph zone. And does he notice? Nah. He's cruising in California on a Friday night. Forget the nursing home and lets take that 1980's Oldsmobile for a joy ride. All the while the other not so tolerant drivers, are showing their love for this old man in many universal ways.

I love California! I know the budget isn't so good, the pollution isn't so good, the housing isn't so good, the living cost isn't so good, and the crime-rate isn't so good. But there is so much more than that. And while I'm here for the next few days I hope to rediscover what those things are so that I might take them back to the Provost with me to survive yet another season away from California.