Today we've finally seen the first significant snowfall of this much-delayed winter season. This one is projected to be somewhere between 3-8 inches, which means it'll actually stick to the ground, as opposed to the dusting we had a few weeks ago.
Everything's different weather-wise compared to when I was a kid.
Back then the sky didn't have a checkerboard pattern to it when I looked up. Now, the streaks resemble multiple city blocks all criss-crossing each other in a battle for dominance.
The snow falling outside acts as a blanket to hide the sins of the city. It covers the assorted trash dumped on the sidewalk and tossed out of passing cars.
The needles of junkies can no longer be seen as well as the numerous used condoms that litter the footpaths, with a heavy concentration underneat5h the bridges and in other concealed places.
Americans be gettin some! And apparently like to be seen doing so.
But yeah, this is the kind of cold that penetrates to the bone, which made me happy that I had following available:
You could say I'm loaded for bear, and that also doesn't include the numerous portable heated power banks I have. When it comes to cold weather, I don't play around! :)
Having lived life in Jersey and PA most of my life, I wonder what life in a hot state would feel like?
I've always said I was "Born on the wrong coast" and should have plopped out somewhere in either SoCal, Oregon, or Washington state. However I've only experienced one earthquake in my life which terrorized us east-coasters unused to having "solid" ground actually move.
I was thinking Vegas (Baby!), seeing as its far enough away from the west coast so that the Terra is actually Firma, but am told that the heat is like stepping into a walk-in oven. I thought at least the nights would be warm in the desert, but was informed that it gets cold out there at night.
So maybe northern Nevada instead of Sin City, might just do the trick.
I hear Wyoming is beautiful but cold, and contains that super volcano which will erupt one day and blow everything in its vicinity to smithereens, including Jeffree Star.
The grass (or in this case, the desert sands), always seem to be greener somewhere else.
But if (and when) I leave, I'll happily trade the sounds of nearby gunshots ringing out in the night, and the ever-increasing range of the Jersey Drones, to the crunch of irradiated sand beneath my feet. Go West! indeed. Life's adventure is what we make it.
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