The California Debate

I think I can speak for my sister when I say that when we were kids we perceived California as a threat. Our parents both grew up in Southern California, to which they understandably often wanted to return. But despite (or because of?) the efforts of our California relatives to convince us that CA = Paradise, my sister and I were adamant in our opposition. Whether or not our obstinacy had anything to do with it, we were spared California and allowed to love life in New England.

When I was in graduate school someone asked me where I wanted to get a job. Figuring that geographic choice would be irrelevant in the job market, I said that I would go where ever they would hire me. I sometimes paused and said, "But I would hesitate about California." Their tax cutting jihad of the 1970s, I reasoned, had fundamentally undermined a commitment to such public goods as education. (Consider the fact that California went from being one of the top spenders, per pupil, on education, to one of the bottom feeders.) I suppose that was what caused the Fates to land me here in Santa Cruz.

I bring this up because of a note I got this morning from my sister in snowy New England. She writes.

I'm pea-green with envy looking at the pictures of your kids exploring the beaches. What a great, easy, cheap activity that they will probably remember their whole lives. Please tell me I'm lucky that my kid can go sledding all winter long. The sun is trying to rise as I'm watching the snow fall gently outside. It's beautiful and I almost never tire of it. Each time it snows I get excited and can hardly take my eyes off it. It's so magical!

I was not fond of beaches when I was a kid. New England beaches are mostly places for sunburns, horsefly bites, deer ticks and sand lodged in every possible bodily crevice. I loved the coast. Who doesn't like watching crashing waves and the far beckoning horizon? But the displeasures of sand made me vastly prefer a good rocky coast.

One of our strategies in arguing against our California relatives was to take the contrarian stand. Our relatives would extol the perfection of California weather and we would respond that we liked the snow (just because it was contrarian doesn't mean it wasn't sincere). They would assure us that you could have snow in California, too. You just had to drive to the mountains! We insisted that it was much better to have the snow available right outside your door. As I read Linda's message this morning, I thought I was the one who should be pea-green with envy. She was sitting in the midst of snowy splendor while I was looking at the prospect of another January day in the low 70s. (I swear: there is not a touch of sarcasmor irony in that sentence.) What I wouldn't give to be in the snow!

But now, here I am raising kids in a beach town, a five hour drive away from my beloved snow. I am learning to appreciate beach life. As the picture for the last post shows, we have beautiful sunsets, great beaches for strolling and scrounging and year-round availability. I'm even learning to tolerate sand (the absence of the horseflies turns out to be really important). But I sometimes wonder what the impact will be on mutual understanding as my boys' operating systems (brains) develop with their basic settings tuned to beaches and warm weather rather than snow and ice.

That said, the boys were sorely disappointed when we broke the news that we weren't going back to New England for Christmas this year. They love their relatives, don't get me wrong, but it was the missed opportunity for snow that seems to have really broken their hearts. Too bad we never drive the mountains.