Without the Bitter...
A large snowstorm is battering New York City right now, blanketing the town in white amidst galeforce winds. It is the first officially designated Blizzard since February 2006. Flights are being cancelled by the hundreds, businesses are bunkering down, and Central Park is anticipating up to 20 inches of snow.
And I'm sitting in a single-family house in a Los Angeles suburb, 2000 miles away from it all.
I actually kind of wish I was there instead.
A couple of months ago, I traveled out to Newport Beach, a ritzy corner of Orange County California that is also headquarters to the world's largest bond manager, PIMCO. I was interviewing for a job there (kind of half-heartedly because duration-oriented fixed income is just too confusing to me), and one of the perks repeatedly pounded home was the great location--sunny nearly year-round, no transportation horror stories due to storms, impromptu flag-football games in a spacious yard during family Christmas gatherings, etc. Isn't it wonderful? You just can't beat the weather.
I mean, I get it. It's hard to argue otherwise, objectively. But having been raised in southern CA for nearly twenty years, I think 75 degree weather is boring. Placid, constant, dry 75 degree weather... yawn. That's only wonderful if you have something to contrast it against, e.g. different seasons. Otherwise, it's just a backdrop to daily life you don't think about. Is it great? Yeah, I guess. That's like being asked if it's great that you have two legs. Sure it is, but I'm not constantly excited about it.
2009-2010 was my first, full blown, extended experience of east coast winter. Many predicted I would loathe it, given my lithe, fat-free build. Wasn't true, for this simple reason: I'm indoors most of the time! Thanks to modern technology, HVAC provided a comfortable survival throughout the winter months. One is only outdoors to get from one indoor facility to another, and New York's extensive subway system guaranteed only brief exposures to the elements. Now, if I had to chop wood daily for warmth and carry water across miles of snow due to frozen pipes, I would die. It's why I don't live in, say, Saskatchewan.
But here's the greatest part of winter: the end of it. When spring arrives, it is majestic. All of a sudden, the sun is out for longer periods, leaves start shyly sprouting from trees, and citizens on the street start showing off fashion and color. It goes from 20 degrees to 60 degrees almost overnight. People start exercising along Hudson River park, outdoor tables are erected in front of coffee shops, bars, restaurants, and before you know it, there's activity everywhere. A blooming flower is a perfect metaphor.
I had never experienced that before. That contrast, that change, that veritable lift in the city's spirits. To me, that beats the year-round "great" weather. Because without the bitter, baby, the sweet ain't as sweet.
And I'm sitting in a single-family house in a Los Angeles suburb, 2000 miles away from it all.
I actually kind of wish I was there instead.
***
A couple of months ago, I traveled out to Newport Beach, a ritzy corner of Orange County California that is also headquarters to the world's largest bond manager, PIMCO. I was interviewing for a job there (kind of half-heartedly because duration-oriented fixed income is just too confusing to me), and one of the perks repeatedly pounded home was the great location--sunny nearly year-round, no transportation horror stories due to storms, impromptu flag-football games in a spacious yard during family Christmas gatherings, etc. Isn't it wonderful? You just can't beat the weather.
I mean, I get it. It's hard to argue otherwise, objectively. But having been raised in southern CA for nearly twenty years, I think 75 degree weather is boring. Placid, constant, dry 75 degree weather... yawn. That's only wonderful if you have something to contrast it against, e.g. different seasons. Otherwise, it's just a backdrop to daily life you don't think about. Is it great? Yeah, I guess. That's like being asked if it's great that you have two legs. Sure it is, but I'm not constantly excited about it.
2009-2010 was my first, full blown, extended experience of east coast winter. Many predicted I would loathe it, given my lithe, fat-free build. Wasn't true, for this simple reason: I'm indoors most of the time! Thanks to modern technology, HVAC provided a comfortable survival throughout the winter months. One is only outdoors to get from one indoor facility to another, and New York's extensive subway system guaranteed only brief exposures to the elements. Now, if I had to chop wood daily for warmth and carry water across miles of snow due to frozen pipes, I would die. It's why I don't live in, say, Saskatchewan.
But here's the greatest part of winter: the end of it. When spring arrives, it is majestic. All of a sudden, the sun is out for longer periods, leaves start shyly sprouting from trees, and citizens on the street start showing off fashion and color. It goes from 20 degrees to 60 degrees almost overnight. People start exercising along Hudson River park, outdoor tables are erected in front of coffee shops, bars, restaurants, and before you know it, there's activity everywhere. A blooming flower is a perfect metaphor.
I had never experienced that before. That contrast, that change, that veritable lift in the city's spirits. To me, that beats the year-round "great" weather. Because without the bitter, baby, the sweet ain't as sweet.
