A friend recently visited and complained that “Los Angeles is a LIE.” Her point was that every time she visits, it’s too cold for shorts and she’s had to wear a jacket—regardless of the season.
I was in New York for New Year’s Eve and despite my native-Angeleno self, I’ll admit I was a little convinced that we might be a lie.
Specifically, I point to the warmer weather in NYC every day I was out there. This despite all the questions from my So Cal colleagues about how bad it must have been because of the blizzard. Granted, I didn’t get caught in that storm or have real flight delays due to the snowpocalypse (in fact, my only delay was getting out of Burbank, where the winds held up our plane).
However, based on the last four days, she might be right. The day I left for NYC it was just above 40 degrees here. The day I returned, the temperature was the same. NYC, on the other hand, was just under 50 degrees on both days. I needed more layers here than there.
Granted, NYC didn’t have 60 degree temps for an outdoor football game called the Rose Bowl, but I’m still not sure that makes us less of a lie.