PREJUDICES: Everybody Has Them

Photo courtesy of realprogressivesusa.com

 

MUSINGS ABOUT AN UNFORTUNATE PART OF HUMAN NATURE

Back in the mid-1990s, a friend and I took a trip to the well-known Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, CA, the museum that famously focuses on issues dealing with racism and antisemitism, particularly focusing on the Holocaust and the Civil Rights Movement.

One part of that museum that I remember was that when you entered the place, there were two doors for you to go through; one said prejudiced, while the other door said non-prejudiced, and you were instructed to enter the door of what thought you were.

Most everyone tried to enter the door that said non-prejudiced, and guess what?

That door was always locked, which forced everyone to use the prejudiced door and gave a crystal clear message:

 

EVERYONE has prejudices – there’s no such thing as a person who has no prejudices whatsoever, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or unaware.

 

I reckon some people are saying this with incredulity right about now…

“What?! How can this be?! I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body, and I’m certainly not a racist! I don’t have anything against anyone, so how dare you accuse me of being prejudiced?!”

I think that those who are reacting like this are assuming that I’m accusing them of being Ku Klux Klan or Alt-Right-style bigots, which is definitely not the case as there is a significant difference between being prejudiced and being a bigot.

Let me explain this difference as straight forward as I possibly can…

Unlike flat-out bigotry, being prejudiced does not mean that you are going around calling African-Americans the “N” word, or calling Muslims, LGBTQs, and other people of color vicious epithets, as that is merely an extreme version; it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with race, nationality, sexual orientation, or religion.

Here’s an example:

Imagine someone who’s going out on the town for the night. He’s walking down a busy street when he sees some young ladies who are dressed in rather skimpy outfits; micro-miniskirts that barely cover their butts, tight tops that push up their breasts, and wearing more makeup than they should.

That someone may think, “Those girls sure look like prostitutes (or, as I prefer to call them, ‘working girls’)“, when in actuality they are just out and about for the same reason as he – to have a good time – and are not “Ladies of the evening” in the slightest.

 

A very good message.  Photo courtesy of steemit.com

 

In other words, he is prejudging those ladies.

While he wasn’t outwardly calling them sluts, his brain was telling him that they looked like such, and he was making a prejudgment without getting to know them; for all he knew, they could have been going to a costume party.

A more obvious example of prejudice – which led to an outright racist incident – happened recently at that Starbucks in Philadelphia with those two African-American men who were arrested after the manager (who was white) called the police on them partly because he felt they were loitering and may cause trouble.

Along with the other countless incidents of blacks, gays, Latinos and Muslims in this era of our President-Who-I-Refuse-To-Name on this blog being attacked, bullied, harassed, and blatantly discriminated against due to them not being white, Christian, conservative, and straight during this past year and a half in particular, ever since You-Know-Who (to coin a Harry Potter term) was elected.

I want to give one more example of this notion of all of us having prejudices, which is a personal one and though I’m not proud of it, I freely admit I have…

As I don’t have a car and use buses and rail lines to get around, I spend quite a bit of time at bus stops and train platforms.

Every so often, when I sit on a bus bench or wait on a platform, a young person looking like they are in their late teens or early twenties, would stand or sit near me and light a cigarette, not purposely trying to make me ill with that foulest of odors, but which causes me to cover my nose and mouth and move away from such smoker.

I also find myself covering my nose and mouth whenever I walk past someone smoking.

Being that that young smoker has undoubtedly been indoctrinated in the evils of those nastiest of legal habits and should more than know better than to start partaking of that most obnoxious of weeds, I often can’t help but have these thoughts go through my mind:

“There’s a most ignorant type of kid – not to mention stupid.”

Now as I don’t know the circumstances of said smoker – perhaps he/she has mental issues and/or is regretful of starting that habit, but is finding it too difficult to quit – I know that I shouldn’t judge him/her, but my brain finds it hard to do so as it’s following a part of human nature which although it is taught rather than innate at birth serves as evidence that it is flawed; the challenge of being aware of prejudging people and to look beyond the surfaces.

Which is not easy to do, and because of human nature never will be.

Anyhow, as far as my feelings regarding young smokers, I’ll end this post by stating this:

 

That’s my prejudice – what’s yours?

 

 

An excellent quote from the man who wrote “Charlotte’s Web”.  Photo courtesy of brainyquote.com

 

 

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My Thoughts On The Current Homeless Crisis – And What I Think Is The Root Cause

Living in Los Angeles, I’ve seen a LOT of this. Photo courtesy of  yournewswire.com

 

MY TAKE ON WHAT IS ARGUABLY AMERICA’S BIGGEST ISSUE

 

I’ve never seen it this bad – and I’ve lived in the greater Los Angeles area, widely considered the homeless capital of these United States, for over forty years.

I vividly remember Santa Monica, where I lived for 22 years, having an influx of homeless people, or “Transients”, as they were called, during my formative years in the 1980s and beyond.

This was especially the case in Palisades Park, located on the bluffs overlooking the ocean, where I remember it being Skid Row West with all of the tents put up there.

I would get asked variations of “Spare some change?” quite a bit at Third Street Promenade in particular, the outdoor shopping mall just a few blocks from Palisades Park where I worked at a luggage store during the early 1990s and spent various amounts of time outside of that.

The issue had reached a point where dolphin statues with slots where you can deposit change – which would go to programs and services to help the homeless – were put up all over that promenade.

I made it a point to put in at least a dollar at least once a visit, sometimes I put in five dollars, because by doing so I knew my money would be guaranteed to, as a public service announcement that was shown in the movie theaters stated, “Make your change help, not hurt.”

I reckon I put in roughly $150 in those dolphin statues during those years.

Anyhow…

As I said, I never thought the homeless situation would be worse that what I saw in Santa Monica in the 80s and 90s – until the past few years as pretty much everywhere I go in L.A. now, I see rows of tents and RVs, folks lying on bus benches, sidewalks, and anywhere else they can, villages of homeless people (called “Hoovervilles” after then-President Herbert Hoover during the Depression in the 1930s) along rivers, and simply more of the unfortunate, to the tune of nearly 60,000 in Los Angeles County alone.

As opposed to when I first moved to my current town of Culver City twenty years ago, I’ve even seen an influx of the homeless there, particularly in the library down the street from my house, where I’ve seen a couple of tents parked against a side wall next to Ballona Creek.

And of course I’ve not only donated money to organizations like the Salvation Army, I’ve (especially lately) bought food for those who asked me for spare change, because then I would know that my charity would do some good, rather than wonder if the change I gave to them would be spent on drugs, alcohol and/or cigarettes.

This largesse was mentioned in a piece I did on this blog almost exactly a year ago, which described what worked best for me as far as helping panhandlers; here’s the link to that post:

 

http://www.hartlandchronicles.wordpress.com/2017/04/11/the-best-way-for-me-to-help-panhandlers-and-the-homeless

 

 

A very common sight in the greater Los Angeles area. Photo courtesy of scpr.org

 

 

After watching news reports and reading multiple-part series on the homeless, notably in the Los Angeles Times; how they got that way and the struggles that they constantly endure, I came to this conclusion at what I feel is the heart and root of this terrible issue.

I’m convinced that it doesn’t lie only at the feet of the homeless person him/herself and the choices they make, as contrary to popular opinion most people without a permanent roof are not mentally ill – only 30% are – or addicted to drugs or booze.

No, I’m convinced that the root of the homeless problem not only in the Los Angeles area, not only in America, but throughout the world,

Lies in one concept:

HEARTLESSNESS

I see the heartlessness in the comments of articles I read regarding these poor folks, people stating how “It’s all their fault” and how “They need to just try harder” and – a very common response – to simply “Get a job!”

I really see the heartlessness in the folks living along the Santa Ana River in Orange County who, in the grand tradition of “Not In My Back Yard”, had officials remove a miles-long homeless village along a bike path.

And I especially see the heartlessness in one particular group:

LANDLORDS.

Specifically those landlords who for no apparent reason jack up the rents on apartments to what is far beyond what their tenants, who often have families, can pay, thus throwing them out on the street while (I imagine) they cackle like some villain in a movie.

Not to mention those who buy apartment buildings, evict all the tenants in one fell swoop – some of them who have lived in those flats for years and years –  and convert them into either luxury apartments or condominiums where they can charge as much as $10,000 a month, as someone recently told me a place in Santa Monica was going for.

I’ve read that these landlords have said that they have their rents at these outrageous levels because it’s at market value and they need to make a living, but you know what?

I truly feel that the mission of a landlord or an apartment building owner is to provide decent housing at prices that the average, hard-working family can afford without sacrificing their ability to pay for food and bills, as it’s at times the case – NOT to strictly make SO much money that they live in affluent areas like Beverly Hills or Bel-Air while the people who live in their buildings suffer in anxiety at best and are forced out onto the street at worst.

It’s the greedy heartlessness of too many landlords and others in power that I feel is the main root for the suffering that the poor and the homeless are going through more than ever.

I know that there will be plenty of people who will vehemently disagree with me, who will call me a communist and a socialist among other derisive names.

But I like to say this in summing up…

Back in the 90s, someone I knew said this to me as we spotted a homeless person:

“The only difference between us and him is two paychecks.”

Perhaps if everyone, particularly the heartless, kept that in mind, we would actually make some real progress in not seeing tent cities and people lying anywhere they can find, panhandling for change, anymore.

These are my opinions and I’m sticking to them.

 

 

I’ve seen plenty of this, too. Photo courtesy of spiritofvenice.wordpress.com

Why I Like Rain

I like this rain image, with the trees and the hills. Photo courtesy of the odysseyonline.com

 

Living in the Los Angeles area, particularly in the past few years, I haven’t experienced too much rain, Southern California being a desert climate and all.

Now that it’s been raining in my neck of the woods for the past day or so, I thought it would be a good idea to chat about why I like it.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the floods or the mudslides in the hills that oftentimes happens when too much rain occurs; my heart goes out to the five folks that died due to the mudslides in our area.

Here’s the reason why I enjoy it when it rains, however…

Besides the fact that with the seemingly endless drought that has persisted in my state of California, we certainly need the rain,

As someone on the Autism Spectrum Disorder, namely high functioning Asperger’s Syndrome, there are certain sounds that I enjoy, sounds that I find comforting and give me a feeling of coziness, when I want to bundle up in bed with a blanket and eventually fall into a nice sleep.

Along with helicopters and planes (I know, that’s a bit strange), rain is one of those sounds.

To me, rain is a sort of personal message from God that I need to slow down.

Take a bit of time off.

Rest and recharge.

It just feels so cozy to me, and I always feel a tiny bit disappointed when rainstorms end and the sun comes out.

The ironic thing about these sentiments?

I used to have almost the opposite opinion about rain during the spring as a young person, because I played baseball and storms would always wash out games.

Now if it rains and I find that I’m unable to play my pick-up softball games on weekends, I shrug and go “Oh well”, my thought being that it’s not the end of the world.

I think that’s called maturity.

Anyhow, I’m liking this rain that’s hit L.A.

As soon as I finish writing this, I’m going to jump into my bed, pull my covers up, and enjoy the coziness that it brings to me and my senses.

 

Another image of something that gives me such a cozy feeling. Photo courtesy of siyathanews.lk

 

I’m A Lifetime Resident of Los Angeles and I’ve Never Had A Car: Why?

A common occurrence in America’s second largest city for the past sixty years: parking lots that are supposed to be freeways, this one the 405 in West Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of  la.curbed.com

 

THE VARIOUS REASONS I NEVER HAD AN AUTOMOBILE IN A CITY WHERE THE AUTOMOBILE IS KING

 

I know that in the City of Angels, I’m something akin to a freak of nature, a space alien who’s on the wrong planet.

Or seen by at least a few people as a “loser”, or someone who is somewhat less of an adult, because of this:

I have lived in the greater Los Angeles area for over forty years, and I’ve never owned a car – nor do I ever plan to own one.

Let me go right into the reasons why…

 

1. TRAFFIC, AS IN L.A. HAVING THE WORST IN THE U.S.

Of the over ten million people who reside in Los Angeles County – and in neighboring Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, and Ventura counties – no one enjoys the gridlock traffic jams that have been part of the Southern California landscape and culture since the 1950s, when the automobile became the virtual symbol of L.A.

For me personally, it’s more than merely being annoyed while stuck in parking lots that are supposed to be streets.

A personal part of this Asperger’s Syndrome that I have is that my anxieties grow to a pronounced level, a 12 on a scale of one to ten, whenever I feel like I’m in a hurry to get someplace (which is much of the time) and the bus I’m riding in – my main form of transportation – is either stuck somewhere in traffic or stops because the driver is ahead of the bus route’s time schedule.

Yes, I know that plenty of aspies drive cars just like neurotypicals, but If I were driving a car, those anxieties could lead to me doing something that’s not good, like get into an accident because I’m trying to go somewhere too fast, or get into a road rage situation.

For me, it’s just easier and simpler to let the bus, Metro Rail, or taxi driver do the driving; it would save me and everyone else some potentially bad disasters and incidents.

As for Uber and Lyft, that’s an option that I’ll probably be using in the near future.

2. DWB – DRIVING WHILE BLACK

I’ve heard too many stories in the news about how African-Americans like me have been stopped, searched, handcuffed, arrested, and killed while driving by white police for no other reason besides the color of their skin.

Getting racially profiled like that has happened to me more than once while riding my bicycle in Santa Monica when I lived there in the early 1990s; while I wasn’t handcuffed, I would be stopped by motorcycle cops and given tickets for reasons I don’t know to this day.

Experiencing what those fellow blacks have experienced is something I want absolutely no part of, which is why for me, driving my own car is not worth that risk.

 

 

A major part of driving a car as a black man that I want NO part of. Photo courtesy of justicenotjails.org

 

 

3. AFFORDABILITY

I don’t want get into any details about my income as I feel that’s no one’s business, but suffice it to say that it’s not at the level where I can afford to buy and (particularly) maintain a decent car.

And as for financing and monthly payments, that’s likewise something that would induce a level of stress in me that I do not need at this point in my life, as I want to live more simply.

Worrying about money for gas, and fixing my car if it broke down and needed new parts like an engine or transmission is something that I don’t want to do.

4. BETTER FOR THE ENVIRONMENT

I definitely don’t need to contribute to the dirtying of the air (despite changes to cars that have offset that) that the exhaust from cars brings.

One can say that by not driving, I’m doing my part to improve the environment and slow down the global warming that’s getting to be more and more of an issue.

 

THE BOTTOM LINE…

It’s just simpler for me to take public transportation, an area where Los Angeles has improved as there are things like the various Metro Rail lines and a planned “Subway To The Sea” going from downtown to Santa Monica that didn’t exist twenty years before.

Besides, when I had my bicycle I recall crashing and wrecking it at least three times in a twelve-month span, scraping myself fairly badly on one occurrence.

I can only imagine the ramifications of going through the same thing while driving a car.

I know that having never had one has led at least some folks to see me as a loser, or something less of an adult.

If you are one of those who are of that opinion because I don’t drive and have never had my own mode of transportation other than a bicycle, go ahead and think such.

It’s OK.

I have to do what’s right for me, no matter what.

 

A part of Los Angeles culture that I likewise want no part of. Photo courtesy of abc7.com

 

 

 

 

The Foods I MUST Have, No Matter How Broke I Am

Photo courtesy of caloriecounter.com

 

NO MATTER HOW LITTLE MONEY I HAVE, I MUST HAVE THESE THREE FOOD ITEMS

 

I’ll get right to the point, as there’s no reason not to do so…

Miracle Whip Light is on the top of my list in this category, as I use it on and in most of the foods I eat, light being my choice due to the fewer calories and fat.

I don’t eat canned tuna or chicken, or make any sandwiches that don’t include peanut butter, jelly, jam, or a combination of the three, without this condiment.

It can get costly, the average price being $3.50 to $4.00 at the grocery store I frequent.

But as I’ve said: I don’t care how broke I may be, I must have my Miracle Whip Light salad dressing, or else I feel deprived.

Salsa is another food type/condiment that I absolutely need regardless of lack of money, preferably the hot kind.

It’s been an essential staple of my diet for many years, and I’ve pretty much forsaken ketchup and barbecue sauce in favor of salsa in recent years because with tomatoes being the main ingredient, salsa is healthier for you; it has less sodium, sugar, and fat than ketchup, BBQ sauce, or any other condiment or sauce.

 

Another food I can’t do without. Photo courtesy of iheartnaptime.com

 

Which is good news for me considering my hypertension condition.

I usually buy my salsa in jars at the supermarket, but there are two places where the salsa is so delicious, I consider it a true treat when I obtain it…

Campos, a Mexican restaurant chain which has several branches in the Westside region of Los Angeles, CA (where I live) and whose food I grew up on in its original location in Santa Monica, has salsa that I can just eat all day, it’s so good.

So much so that I get at least four cups of the medium-hot salsa every time I go get food there.

The other place where I buy salsa is a place that I don’t get to go to as often as Campos, just a handful of times a year, but whose salsa matches Campos’ in it’s level of deliciousness;

The salsa at Burnt Tortilla, a Mexican chain in the South Bay area of Los Angeles.

 

The third of my main food staples. Photo courtesy of youtube.com

 

I go to the main branch of Burnt Tortilla in Gardena, where a friend of mine lives; every time I visit my friend and her family, I make it a point to go to Burnt Tortilla and get two large Styrofoam cups of their salsa, which lasts a few days.

Those large cups are not exactly cheap, costing $6.00 each, but it’s money well spent as far as I’m concerned.

Of course one can’t have salsa without tortilla chips, which is the third food I must have regardless of how little money I have available.

As tortilla chips generally have less sodium and fat than regular potato chips, it’s been one of my go-to things to eat as a snack, or even as a main meal when I don’t feel like spending any time cooking.

Eating chips and salsa, especially salsa from Campos and Burnt Tortilla, is something I can do all day if given a chance, and if it’s guaranteed I won’t get sick from eating too much.

Another thing I often do for nourishment is to mix light Miracle Whip into a combination of canned tuna and chicken, then get a bag of tortilla chips – Mission Tortilla Chips are my preference as their chips are sturdier – and go to town.

It makes for a simple and satisfying meal.

There isn’t much more to say about this, except for something I was wondering…

What are the foods that YOU absolutely MUST have, no matter how broke you may get?

 

My number one go-to food for snacks and (sometimes) meals. Photo courtesy of metrotimes.com

 

 

SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA: The Three Things I Like Best About That City

My favorite image of the town I grew up in and lived for 22 years….

 

Everybody has a hometown.

Technically, I have two…

Riverside, CA, fifty miles east of Los Angeles, where I was born, spent the first nine years of my life, and have idyllic memories of as I lived with loving grandparents in a rural community outside of that city.

The other place I consider my hometown?

Santa Monica, CA, fifteen miles west of downtown Los Angeles, a town famous for its beach and pier.

It’s in Santa Monica where I lived for 22 and a half years, eighteen in one house.

It’s in Santa Monica where I spent my pubescence, adolescence, and young adulthood.

And it’s in Santa Monica where I did the milestone/rites of passage; play little league,  get my first  (unrequited) crushes on girls,  graduate high school, work at my first jobs, things like that.

Though it’s approaching twenty years since I lived there, moving to Culver City at the end of 1998, there are three things about that seaside town that provide fond memories.

I won’t waste any time with listing those three things:

 

1.  THE AFTERNOON SEA BREEZES

Being that it borders the Pacific Ocean (or technically, Santa Monica Bay), Santa Monicans have been blessed with what I call God’s air conditioning, as starting at roughly 3:00 p.m. winds from the ocean cool that city – and neighboring ones like Venice, Pacific Palisades, and Marina Del Rey – and make it very desirable while starting at between five to ten miles inland the temperature significantly rises.

On hot days, that means that while people in Santa Monica and other beach cities are reveling in those cool breezes, folks living inland are suffering.

Why else does the beach in Santa Monica, Venice, Malibu, and other places get crowded with wall-to-wall people during heat waves?

 

 

A VERY nice view of the Santa Monica Mountains, Malibu, and Point Dume at sunset. Photo courtesy of shuttlestock.com

 

2. THE VIEW OF MALIBU AND THE SANTA MONICA MOUNTAINS ON A CLEAR DAY

On a clear day, particularly after it rains, I always loved looking north and viewing the Santa Monica Mountains and various places like Pacific Palisades, Malibu, and Point Dume.

The views of those area is especially spectacular from the Santa Monica Pier, which I took some time to do on Christmas morning in 1998, just a few days before I moved away as I wanted to set my eyes on that incredible view one last time.

I unfortunately haven’t been able to see that sight due to the pier being crowded with tourists and life’s obligations in general, but rest assured that view is something about Santa Monica that I’ve always appreciated.

 

 

My all-time favorite place to eat – sorry that the picture is so small! Photo courtesy of camposfamousburritos.com

 

3. CAMPOS FAMOUS BURRITOS, ON 20TH STREET AND PICO BOULEVARD

There has been no other place where I’ve preferred to eat in my lifetime.

Since age eight, I have been enjoying the tacos, nachos, and burritos from what was originally called Las Palmas until it was renamed Campos around the late 1970s.

Having lived two blocks from Campos for 18 years, I have had a long history with that place…

I remember taking field trips with my junior high school Spanish class to that Mexican eatery for lunch, taking dares to drink the hot green salsa.

Though I was a bit too much of a goody-goody to do so, many of my friends have ditched school to enjoy Campos food.

I can recall taking dates there during my early 20’s.

And my latest enjoyable memory of Campos?

Going there on my 50th birthday to buy avocado burritos, which incredibly enough I had never tried as I always preferred ground beef tacos in my youth and chicken tacos and burritos in later years.

I don’t have to tell you the waves of nostalgia that passed through me that day.

In fact, if someone asked me what my number one memory of living in Santa Monica is, Campos would be it.

I thank God that there’s a branch about a block and a half from where I live in Culver City; their tacos was the first meal I had upon moving there.

I’m quite proud and blessed that I’ve been eating and enjoying Campos food for over forty years, and will continue to.

 

So there they are – my three fondest memories of my twenty-two and a half years in Santa Monica.

Hopefully these descriptions make anyone from that town who may be reading this smile.

 

 

The inside of the Original Campos on 20th & Pico in Santa Monica, which is so successful there are several branches all over Los Angeles’ Westside. Photo courtesy of tripadvasor.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

RANDOM THOUGHTS OF SUMMER

Being that I grew up in Santa Monica, I thought it only appropriate that I posted a picture of its beach. Photo courtesy of shutterstock.com.

 

I think it just comes with the progression of life in general;

The notion of summer being one long holiday when you’re a kid, ala the end of school and that “No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers…” thing.

Think about it…

Unless you screwed up in class and got bad grades during the regular school year, thus sentencing you to hard time in summer school,

Or if you’re of high school age and working at some crappy minimum wage, no benefits or basic rights, one step up from slavery type of job – or trying to get such,

Summer is three months (or two and a half today) of fun as in going to camps specializing in things you love to do, taking vacations to far off exotic places, visiting paradises like Zuma Beach in Malibu or Disneyland or whatever theme parks you may fancy, and watching spectacular fireworks displays on the evening of July 4th – and buying firecrackers and setting them off yourself.

Which you can’t do anymore in all but perhaps one or two communities in the Los Angeles area.

Not to mention hanging out at the local swimming pool and eating delicious barbecue at parties.

Or doing nothing at all, like many of us did back in the day – or at least I did as the majority of my summers were spent lazing around at my grandparents’ in Riverside, CA, not venturing outside until dusk due to the 90 + degree weather, watching TV, getting to play outside until 8:00 p.m., and essentially just vegging.

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kr0tTbTbmVA

I forgot how good this song was; an essential tune of summer by Will Smith, or the Fresh Prince (& Jazzy Jeff) as he was known then when this dropped in 1991. Courtesy of YouTube – just click on the link.

 

Unfortunately, all that ends when you become an adult in society’s eyes.

Contrary to when you’re a kid, life doesn’t stop when June 21st comes around;

Rent and bills still have to be paid,

Your place of work doesn’t go on a two-or-three month hiatus as the best you can expect is two-week vacation – and that’s if you’re extremely lucky as you can’t put it past your overseers – I mean supervisors – to come up to you at the very last minute and inform you about some big project that you need to do, thus nuking your long-awaited freedom.

Personally, like more or less every other youngster I used to think that summer was the best time of year, for obvious reasons.

Now, and for pretty much my entire adulthood – I would say since my early 20s – that is not the case as I prefer Spring and Winter.

Spring? the leaves are just budding and it’s not so hot.

Winter? I like the chilliness and bundling up.

Not to mention the major holiday commemorating the birth of our Lord and Savior that anchors that season.

 

Another essential thing about summer; fireworks displays like these in Long Beach, CA every 4th day of July. Photo courtesy of timeout.com

 

Speaking of chilliness, there’s one big reason why summer doesn’t particularly hold my fancy anymore…

THE HEAT.

My body has gotten less tolerant to it as I’ve gotten older.

And the fact that it’s gotten hotter the past decade or so – we all know how temperatures have reached 120 degrees in places like Phoenix, AZ the past few days (my condolences to those folks) – hasn’t helped.

To sum it up in three words…

I HATE HOT.

And to sum up my feelings about this just-begun season…

I miss the way summer was as a kid, the way it was something to look forward to with all the fun and relaxing that often went along with it.

Now, that’s not really the case.

It’s a bit of a pity, but also inevitable as that’s part of one’s evolving as an adult, the responsibilities that don’t stop just because it’s June, July and August.

As such, for those who can afford it,

I hope your summer’s a good one.

 

I like the rainbow-like colors of these lounge chairs at this beach. Photo courtesy of the odysseyonline.com