15 Honest Questions I Have for You, California
Are you mad at us for liking almonds and pistachios better than water?
Does not compute. You keep getting browner and browner and we keep letting it happen. Sure, citizens are starting to be required to water their lawns, like, twice a week, but that’s not good enough. You produce something like 70% of our leafy greens, and almost 30% go uneaten or don’t even make it to the supermarket. We just… we don’t deserve you. How about instead of Bay to Breakers we do a giant naked rain dance along the Embarcadero?
Why does anyone live in Bakersfield?
Someone had to say it.
I’ve got my earthquake kit, my mudslide kit, and my wildfire kit. What am I forgetting?
It’s crazy beautiful here, sure, but why do I feel like you’re trying to kill me? It’s 72 and sunny out and I’d love to walk, but being prepared fits way better in my trunk than in my backpack.
How does our little NorCal v. SoCal dispute make you feel?
Does it make you a little sad that we all just can’t get along? Or do you secretly have a favorite? C’mon. Is it the 405 or 405? Pacific Beach or PB? Is it hella tight or is it sick, dude? Hippie or Hollywood, you know you want it one way or the other.
Why is your motto just “Eureka?”
Were you just not that excited when you found gold? Hell, if Oklahoma! gets an exclamation point, don’t you think you could muster up the energy?
How do you afford all your replica jerseys?
Including the NHL, AFL, and MLS, you have a bajillion sports teams. How are we supposed to get anything done? But not complaining. No. Please don’t send off a team to St. Louis. That’s not what we mean.
But one last question on this topic: how is it that San Francisco and Oakland have two professional football teams? And San Diego? Hello, can we get a little LA love? Does this make sense to anyone? Bueller?
Have you ever heard of “seasons?”
And I don’t mean “kinda warm” or “foggy” or “fire season.” Though that last one is semi-legit.
Can you please put together a pamphlet for everyone else?
It should say something like, “No, we don’t all say either ‘Sup, bra?’ or ‘hella sick.’ Some of us haven’t been to the beach in months, maybe even years, our skin tones prove it and we don’t care. Please don’t ask us about the celebrities we went to high school with or what earthquakes feel like. And as for you insisting that Shake Shack is better than In-N-Out, stop being evangelical; we’re not looking to be converted.”
Will you read my screenplay?
No? Then let me tell you about my idea for an app…
Do you know how easy you make it to introduce yourself to foreigners?
Tell someone from pretty much anywhere else in the world that you’re from America, and one of the first things out of their mouths might be, “Oh, California?” And it’s wonderful. No explanation needed. Awkward conversation avoided. “Yes, yes, I am. And for sure, it’s just as great as you think it is.”
This invite says “business casual.” Can I wear flip flops?
If you tell me no and I see a dozen other people there in sandals, I will not be a happy camper. How about yoga pants? Leggings-as-pants? They’re basically skinny jeans.
Does this smell funny to you?
Oh, whoops, it’s just Coalinga.
Does the permanent indent of my butt in my seat affect the resale value of my car?
Just curious. I have a sweet Monday Morning Commute Playlist to get me through these next two hours, but that’s not money in the bank, if you know what I mean. Do I need to lose weight to make sure I can afford my rent when I make my next switch? I’ll just up my intake of wheat grass; it’s not a problem.
$4 toast, seriously?
Seriously. I still can’t get over it.
How about a little lightning once in a while?
I know grade-school children that haven’t seen it, and don’t you think that’s a little unfair? Let’s look into trading in those Santa Ana winds for a little jolt of excitement. It’s really the only way you could possibly get better.