Better a Witty Fool than a Foolish Wit

Inner Workings of My Twisted Mind.

Apocalypse L.A.

L.A. in the rain is quite possibly the most hilarious experience of all time.  Now, I know this storm we’re having is quite large and there has been ridiculous amounts of rain and snow fall, but there’s something that rings of a Marx Brothers movie when L.A. is preparing for, and then dealing with a rain storm.

The hilarity builds in layers.  First of all, there’s the preparation.  For days before the storm hits every single TV news station, radio station, and psychic friends are on every single channel talking about how huge this storm is going to be.  How there will be flash flooding and mudslides and hurricane force winds.  Ok, what else is fucking new?  I grew up in California and we’ve had storms like that almost every year.  Every year half of Southern California burns down then falls down the hill onto the other half that didn’t burn down.  Stop buying houses in Malibu people, your 20 million dollar house is either going to burn or going to slide into the Pacific.

But the priceless moment is always when the rain starts.  Now, let me preface this by saying that almost everyone who lives in Los Angeles is not originally from here.  In fact, many of them are from the East Coast and Mid-West, if not Canada, Europe, Mexico, or some other such place.  As such, you’d think that these people could handle a little rain.  Oh no.  Not when they’ve been in L.A. for two months.  They forget all survival instinct and are like a newborn babe, crawling around on the waterlogged streets searching for some bit of dry land.  They forget how to drive.  Traffic comes to a screeching halt as this foreign wet substance starts falling from the grey sky.  I will give a little credit to the residents of L.A., the city of Los Angeles seems morally opposed to equipping the street with reflectors so one could potentially see the lanes on a street, but still, it doesn’t warrant the total halting of traffic.

My favorite part of L.A. in the rain, is the fact that these East Coasters/Mid-Westerners who are constantly and loudly proclaiming what pussies all us Californians are in that we can’t handle cold weather, cannot seem to dress themselves appropriately for rain.  It’s as though they left all recollections of how they used to deal with adverse weather behind in Bowling Green, Ohio.  There are two ways the Non-Californian Angeleno dresses for the rain, over and under.  Half of the people outside (this number is low because many residents simply refuse to leave the house if it’s raining…I’m sure this accounts for higher drop out rates at UCLA and USC during El Nino years) are dressed as if they are going to start a trek up Mt. Everest in the middle of winter.  Often outfitted in ski parkas, scarves, two pairs of pants, snow boots, gloves, hats, and any other ‘cold weather’ accouterments that seem necessary, these people look fucking ridiculous, and often resemble the Michelin Man.  That is often not half as funny as the other side.  That is to say, the other half of Angelenos who venture out in the rain are severely underdressed.  Mini-skirts, shorts, flip flops and tank tops abound as if there is nothing different about the weather.  I suspect these are the same people that wear Ugg Boots and a mini-skirt in mid-summer.  Classy.  This is the most entertaining of the two seeing as it’s usually either women who haven’t eaten since Nixon was in office, and have had so much Botox they aren’t even aware they have facial features, or it is men who haven’t eaten since 1985 (when manorexia became popular in L.A.), have spent entirely too much time in a mystic tanning booth, and who have had calf implants or some such other male ridiculous cosmetic surgery.  The inner high school nerd in me so loves to see these Paris Hilton wannabes suffer through the rainy weather.

As the rain stops it’s kind of like the scene in the Wizard of Oz where the Munchkins come out of hiding.  One by one the brave people of L.A. peek their heads out of their homes (many of which are actually colder inside then out, seeing as one of the great things about Southern California buildings is they are made to keep warmth out; a wonderful benefit in the hot summer months, but not so great in the winter), they breathe the now clean air, don’t worry, we’ll dirty it up again soon, and bound out of the house in droves.  No more spending Friday and Saturday night at the Arclight Cinemas we can head out to Le Doux in our barely there minis and $400 camisoles from Marc Jacobs.  Finally, the rain has let up.  We can’t believe it lasted four long torturous days.  We couldn’t even put the convertible top down or go wait in line at Pinks. We’re certainly glad that’s over.  Maybe it won’t rain again until next year.

Peace, Love, and Inappropriate Clothing Choices,
Julia

P.S.  If you’re curious, I’m an underdresser.  I don’t complain though.  And I don’t own an umbrella.  I live in L.A.  It never rains.  I don’t need one.

P.P.S.  Two in one day, lucky people.

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January 7, 2008 - Posted by | Culture, Los Angeles

1 Comment »

  1. Very funny! And very true! Though I must say some of this happens elsewhere. Washington DC shuts down when they get an inch of snow… and here in NorCal on my favorite Highway 17, people deal with the first rain in one of two ways. Half the population continues to drive like maniacs, thinking that high speed will overcome other laws of physics (it won’t). The other half slows to 25, lest they cause the rain on the pavement to splash their cars… Maybe they’re hoping they can get away without another car wash!

    Comment by Uncle Dan | January 11, 2008 | Reply


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