So, indulge me please, after the not-so-random picture...)Last summer, my sister had an internship in California.
The best part about my sister's internship is that it gave me an excuse to visit California.
Ain't I the best big brother ever?
You see, I'd never been to the far coast. I'd heard the legends of snow bunnies putting their fur coats away for tighter fitting apparel and hoopers playing hoops until 7pm…on weeknights. I'd seen my share of Tony Scott and Ron Shelton movies. I even memorized Doughboy's final lines in Boys 'N Da Hood.
Either they don't know, don't show, or don't care about what's going on in the hood. Booyah.But when I stepped off the plane in sunny San Francisco, I immediately started grinning from ear to ear. And it wasn't because I saw two Brazilian chicks making out on the conveyor belt in airport luggage. It was the feel of that California sunshine on my face, the smell of an ocean not rotting from guys with cement sneakers, and the lingering aroma of the famed In 'N Out Burger ($3 value meals? BARGAIN!) that tickled my nostrils and got me chomping at the bit.
(Okay, so they were just checking their IPhones. You got me.)
I'm afraid that if I ever moved to California, I'll never move back.Where else can you get 70 degree weather all year? Where else can you run into Kyla Pratt randomly at a neighborhood block party, or step on Verne Troyer's face while playing in a McDonald's playpen?
Plus, you can get away from all this darned snow. And that's what I was getting at in the first place.
(That was one heck of an intro, eh?)
Remember when Nickelodeon used to force feed us a rack of money-making movies (Harriet the Spy, The Rugrats Movie (with Mase on the soundtrack!) so that we'd beg our parents for cash and line the pockets of Mike O'Malley and Doug Funnie? Well, one of those movies was Snow Day.
The premise was simple enough: The main character, a little girl determined to stop the neighborhood bad guy (in this case, the snowplow man) from pushing the white stuff off her streets, gathers all the kids of the suburban cul-de-sac together in an effort to throttle the beast. Granted, all of these kids probably had bedtimes around 8:15, but whatever. You get the point.
(Meanwhile, the older brother spends his entire day trying to impress the hot next-door neighbor (a young Sloan from Entourage) but ends up falling in love with the Best Friend That Was Around the Entire Time (an oft-abused movie concept that would NEVER work in real life). Really? Pullllleeazzze. Can't you just wait and fall in love with her on a school day?)
There used to be a point in my life where I'd root for the little girl from the comforts of my basement, praying that somehow, she'd be able to stop the evil plow man for cleaning up her street. Come on! You can do it! Stop trying to make us go back to school, you herb! I remember yelling at the TV screen right up until the point where Nick would transport us right into a Crossfire commercial. YOU GET CAUGHT UP IN THE….CROSSFIRE!!! YAAAAAAA!!!
Unfortunately, those days are gone.
Snow was just a lot more fun to deal with when I was a kid. Now? I'm the dude waking up early to dig out my car for work, I'm the guy that starts the cars to get them warm, and I'm the guy who has to sprinkle salt down on the sidewalk so that some random old lady doesn't slip, sue, and take our house. That's something that 'dem Cali kids have never had to deal with.
Get on my level. Heck, I'm the guy that cheers for the snowplow man now. If I could, I'd give him a Google Map right to my house. I get antsy when the dude doesn't show by the four hour mark.
If I could, I'd take a huge plastic liner and cover the entire driveway so that the snow would slide off like Teflon. You know, to save me time on the back end. But alas, I have to wait. And so do you.
Batten down the hatches, eastern seaboard. Get your popcorn ready. And a copy of House Party.
It's gonna be a looooong weekend.