The wife and I went to a party yesterday. It was supposed to be a pool party in someone’s backyard, sort of a goodbye to summer thing, but we had a surprise thunderstorm here in the Bay Area Saturday morning, so it was overcast, although surprisingly warm for northern California rain.
I kind of enjoy listening to thunder at night, but our Edie girl isn’t too fond of it. First she fled our upstairs bedroom down to the living room. During one of the later thunder peals I heard her heading down the kitchen stairs to our garage (her cavelike sanctuary).
Anyway, the light rains stopped late in the morning, and it was never that cold, more warm and muggy, so I still put on a tropical shirt and shorts. As overcast tends to be cool here, Mrs. O put on long pants and a sweater over a tank top. Our different summerwear amused me—I joked that we could have been going to two separate parties. It seemed funnier to me than to anyone else—no one seemed to get it. Must be just one of those cultural differences.
I grew up in Minnesota, where you’re always mindful of weather when you dress. Not just t-shirts and shorts in summer or heavy coats and warm boots in winter, but rain gear in the blustery wet springtime or light jackets, as appropriate, in the cool, dry autumn.
When I first visited southern California I hit the beach (dressed appropriately) and saw someone wearing a down vest on the boardwalk on a summer day. This cracked me up. I think it would crack up most people I knew back in the land of lakes. I still see people in down parkas in the middle of summer in the Bay Area, and I usually think something along the lines of if you did that in the Upper Midwest, people would question your sanity.
Coincidentally, one of the people I moved to California with couldn’t wait to become as Californian as possible. He even spoke with the lax vowels, got tan, etc. Interestingly, we met in a German class and got to be friends with a Californian. She was very happy adapting to the Midwest–so it isn’t an absolute difference.
There is an inherent pragmatism to dressing for the weather. It’s a connection to nature, to something bigger than people—I miss that, sometimes. Big Weather reminds us how small we are in the larger scheme of things. I like California a lot, it’s an amazing place, but it also seems so much more people-centered, which has its advantages at times, there is a creative critical mass to the San Francisco area, but it can have disadvantages, too.
It was a fun party. Relaxed, good conversation, a lot of laughter. As I mentioned, no one else seemed to notice the variances in clothing outside on the patio at the party; the host and I were the only ones in short sleeves and shorts, others wore sweaters, and my weak attempt at humor passed quickly, virtually unnoticed. In California, people dress more as a fashion statement than an exercise in pragmatism. Vive la difference!
However, one of the guests walked out onto the patio in his stocking feet. Silently I channeled my father, all these decades later; I could imagine him hollering, “either put on shoes or take off your socks!”
I’ll probably always notice that.
Hmmmm… It’s the only thing I ever taught him that he remembered…
…and I’d forgotten it myself.
Ben’s Father
When I was in college I bought my first motorcycle. I rode it for about four years. (i was in school a long time and still didn’t graduate). That one died and I bought another one after I dropped out rode it for about two years. Then after I got out of the military eight years later, I bought another one and drove it for about two years off and on.
Anyway… being exposed to the elements I constantly was watching the weather and became very aware of how I should dress and what I should have ready in my backpack I carried.
A lot times dressing wasn’t at all about fashion but about functionality. I think I would have gotten your humor.
Hi, I’m LB and I’m a native Californian. (Hi LB you all shout). Am I clueless about the weather? Well, yeah. Frankly, I’ve given up on guessing anymore because I’m always wrong. So, I’ve settled for a seasonal uniform that at least seems somewhat appropriate. May-October: light sweater, no coat or scarf. November-April: slightly heavier sweater with a coat and scarf at the ready.
For me, part of the issue is that even though the temperature outside may change dramatically (well, that is, for the Bay Area), inside, from season to season it stays pretty much the same. So, if you can avoid extended periods outside, it’s pretty easy to plan your wardrobe.
Oh, and that thunderstorm? That was the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard. I thought the refinery across the way was exploding. Damn. I would have prefered much more rain – if you’re going to make all that much noise and scare the bejebus out of the furry creatures, it really needs to deliver on the wet stuff, ya know?
Another native Californian here, to say that people don’t pay much attention to the weather because it’s generally so mild. Not too cold. Hot, yes, but not humid. So unless you’re trapped in shorts and a t-shirt in the city in July, you really don’t have to think about it much. Also, as you noted, the rain here is usually in winter, so warmish rain is rare. So I guess people think rain=cold, and put on a sweater, even if it’s 80 degrees outside.
I love that your dad reads your blog. My mom and I had a great time with our blogs.
That was indeed LOUD thunder. It was setting off the car alarms in our neighborhood. I was woken by thunder, followed immediately by the sound of the dog peeing. SO scared.
Dear OK: and that’s not even factoring in all the things I’m trying to forget.
Julian, you remind me of a young friend of mine who used to drive her motorcycle across the bay bridge. In wintertime. In cold, rainy weather. She’d get warmly dressed and then don a big trash bag over the whole business (hole for her head&helmet) to stay dry. This practically drove me crazy. (The bay bridge is long and suspended way up over the bay, prone to lots of wind.) I said to her, “I hope you drive slow.” She shrugged — but she is still alive today, and i think she’d think twice about it, now that she’s older. (Oh, the immortality of youth.)
LB & J: one of the advantages is that I use the same jackets year-round. Oh, there’s a raincoat for winter. But in dry weather I’m putting on the same light lined jackets in summer as I do in winter.
And yes, that was a wonderful storm, although more water would have been very welcome.
There’s a poor scorched tree out on the naval air station I’m hoping to sustain to the rainy season–have meant to blog on it; must make time, take pix, etc.
With apologies to my poor Edie Girl: Here’s to Thor and the God of Thunder! (Now please bring more rain.)