Welcome to L.A. One minute the sky is blue and the sun is blasting rays; the next minute it’s gale force winds and scary torrents of rain. And that’s just in my backyard. In the street, it’s a rushing river. Oh look, there goes a paper bag. At least I hope it’s a paper bag. An empty one.
Yeah, I know. Bitch, bitch, bitch when it’s in the 60s outside. But I’m a Pennsylvania girl, so I know from snow. And ice. And cold, freezing cold.
However–I really hate the heat. The Pacific Ocean is wasted on me (even when I lived 20 blocks from it) because I’m just not a sand ‘n sun sitter. My family decamps annually at least to Hawaii and returns waxing eloquent about the joys of the islands. I’ve been once, ages ago in what I like to refer to as my young and cute years.
It was quite the spur of the moment trip. A TV reporter I was dating was being sent to Hawaii and offered to take me with him. It seemed like an attractive enough offer, even if he was not. I recall being quite full of myself, journalist junketing me and all that. However, the actual week bore no resemblance to The Quiet American and Michael Caine was definitely not part of the package.
In fact, my “co-star” seemed as little interested in me as I was in him. What I mostly remember is his antipathy to four star hotels and his urge to see all the relevant sites of natural beauty–even if all we were doing was looking out the dirty car window at the black sand beach so as to check that one off his list. The only time I actually remember being in the water, I was by myself at Hilo. Where my host was I can’t remember; obviously it wasn’t important.
Was it a whole week that we were there? God, I hope not. I hope it was just a long weekend. But it was long enough for me to form an antipathy to Hawaii. It’s the heat and the tropical vibe that turns me off. And all that sitting in the sun. Actually, it’s the sitting that gets me. I’m not a good sitter.
And that may present a problem as I move well beyond the Other Side of Sixty. I understand that the elderly do a lot of sitting. I wonder how I’ll cope with that. Suggestions?
Well, you might be safe with that whole elderly sitting thing since I hear most elders are frequently lost in memories… so my suggestion is build tons of memories! Perhaps you won’t realize you’re just sitting. =0)
That is what They Say, about the elderly and memories. But what do They know? Have they ever been elderly?
I am not a warm weather fan either and I really do not like Los Angeles– The crazy weather of late followed by this coming weekend in the 80s– in February. Seriously?!?
But I have to admit, I kinda like Hawaii– specifically the ocean which is way cleaner than it is in Santa Monica.
As for a lot of sitting… Not yet. We’re still too young for that 🙂
xo jj
And for the weather report a few weeks later–HEAT WAVE!!!!!
Hi Jane…my grandmother was from Boston & was not a sitter either…even on the other side of 90! I am from New Orleans…heat is our norm & I love the beach but like my grandmother…I am not a sitter. It’s not in our wiring. She acclamated to slowing down a bit but kept moving. Inspiring!
Here’s to your grandmother, Beth, and all the women who use their later years to do what they want, not what others say they should. They are our role models.
But you’re the total outdoor girl, Jamie. You do all those marathons and triathalons and many other thons. When I read about your running, etc. I always feel like a slug. Yes, I am envious. Of course, not enough to start running on my own…..!
“. . .even if all we were doing was looking out the dirty car window at the black sand beach so as to check that one off his list.” That made me laugh. How many times to we do things, just to check it off the lists of “things we just have to do when in so-and-so.” Okay. With me, you can take the girl out of Florida but you can’t take Florida out of the girl. I am a sitter and I love to sit in the sun. I need to adopt more of your likings after I had to have a bit of plastic surgery on my nose this year to repair a pesky skin cancer spot. Hope you are moving about some Jane….