Only in California

An east coast friend remarked on the "touchy-feely" nature of my recent blogs.  And maybe that's a reflection of my status.  Because at some point two years ago, I crossed over an invisible line-- I have now lived in California longer than I have NOT lived in California.  Which I figure makes me officially a Californian.  The other day I even posted some photos to salute the beauty of our coast.  

I know lots of people who wake up every day, and look outside at California and say "What a glorious day it is!" --and really mean it.   I am NOT one of those people.  Maybe I'm too snarky for that kind of remark.  Maybe I'm spoiled since so many days are boringly glorious.  But in any case, I am perfectly capable of waking up and looking outside on a glorious day...and ignoring it.

I might not make a fuss over its glory, but I do enjoy the great outdoors, usually on a walk or a hike.  I've failed to convince V to join me, since his kind of walk involves a bag of clubs and 18 holes.  But you know how it is when someone else suggests the exact same thing your spouse suggests, and suddenly it's a great idea?  That is how V and I ended up on a hike today with another couple.

This very rare occurrence felt like a mini-vacation.  Or my third retreat in one week.  And it turned out to be a glorious day in every way--the weather, the hike, the conversation, being with such good friends.  It was perfect.  The kind of day you can have year round only in California.

There was one other aspect of today that is also unique to this part of the world.  Near the top of the uphill climb, I felt a little dizzy.  Not only am I in the worst shape of the four of us, but I was also doing the most talking.  So I stepped off the trail and sat down in the shade.  After a few minutes, my friend came back, so I could join her and start downhill.  As I stood up, she looked down and remarked, "Isn't that poison oak you were sitting in?" 

I think I've made it clear that I don't notice details.  Details like the appearance of the plant I was sprawled in---which grows only in California and the west coast.  Like poison oak, my kids are native Californians.  They were taught to spot it, and Daniel has had some nasty episodes.  I've never had it.....so far.  And if I wake up in the morning without a rash, I might finally look out at my adopted state and say "What a glorious day it is!"  And really mean it.  Wish me luck.

Comments

[Mark Geduldig-Yatrofsky]

Having been born in Los Angeles, I technically can claim California nativity, but, honestly, it is a tenuous assertion at best. I have actually lived outside of the Golden State much more than within its boundaries. Although as an adult, I have traveled its length and width during a few intense interludes, I know more about it from books, popular culture, and PBS programs than from firsthand experience.

The irony of my life circumstances is that the place in which I have spent 95% of my adult life does not consider me anything like a native. In Virginia the conventional wisdom asserts that to be deemed a native someone has to have descended from at least two consecutive generations of direct ancestors who were lifelong residents of the commonwealth. (Yes, Virginia is one of four sovereign jurisdictions in the United States that is not, putting the finest of points on it, a state. For all intents and purposes, however, that is a distinction without a substantive difference.)

So, Darryle, my old chum, I bequeath you all my unused privileges of California nativism (except the bragging rights, which I choose to exercise on occasion) because (1) I am unlikely ever to make full use of them, and (2) you have earned them through your steadfastness in the face of temblors, El Ninos, Santa Anas, mudslides, and rightwing whacko governors. To borrow from William S. Gilbert (to Sullivan's score of "He Is an Englishman"):

She herself has said it,
And it's greatly to her credit,
That she is Cal-for-ni-an.
. . .
For she could have stayed Floridian,
Become Massachusettsian or Washingtonian,
Or perhaps Hawai'i-an!

But, in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations (O. K., states - give a guy some poetic license here),
She remains Cal-ifor-ni-an!
She remains Cali-for-ni-an!

[Darryle]

This is very clever, and after reading my blog you're now picking up my propensity to make up songs. By the way while living in California I've already experienced all of those natural disasters you mentioned. All except poison oak.