We Malibuites or whatever we call ourselves are spoiled rotten. A month ago I heard two adult males at the MalibuGym bemoaning the severe winter weather. One gymnast (my reference to anybody who works out at a gym) actually said to the other, “This is the worst winter I can remember.” The other gymnast replied, “I can’t wait for spring.”
“Say what?” I said.
Coming from the old country, I don’t have a clue what these two guys are talking about. From my perspective, this winter was absolutely delightful. On several occasions I ate outside, wore short sleeve shirts, and even sunbathed. Yes, I needed to heat my house for maybe 10 days, but back in New Jersey the heat went on in October and stayed on until late April.
To put it another way, had we had a winter back East like we just suffered through in Malibu, people would be dancing naked in the streets and praising the Almighty.
Back in February I spoke to my brother Phil, who lives near Gore Mountain, a ski resort in upstate New York. “How’s the weather there?” I inquired. “Could be warmer,” he reported. “The thermometer reads minus 22 degrees without the wind chill factor. They closed the ski lift because it was minus 50 degrees at the top of Gore Mountain.” Now, in my opinion,that’s a severe winter, and if my brother longs for spring, he’s got a right.
If my eyes see alright, and so far I don’t need glasses, our spring sprang over a month ago. Flowers adorned the hills up on Kanan Dume Road, my magnolia tree blossomed, the birds built nests, and if that isn’t spring, what is. The way I see it, our springs comes about two months to three months before spring back in the Northeast.
I love to complain and certainly admire others who do also, but the weather here is not one of the things we should complain about. In other words, give me a break!