At least, that would be your conclusion if you were wandering around Woodland Hills on Ventura Boulevard this evening.
Among Los Angeles many bizarre (and occasionally endearing) qualities is the way that locals react to dips in the temperatures. Tonight after work I took a quick walk down the block to the bank. The sun was still up, but the wind was starting to gust to 15 or 20 knots and the air had started to cool.
It had “cooled” all the way down to 65°F. The horror!
Walking back to the office I passed one person after another, more than a dozen total, who were bundled up like they were going to the South Pole. Ski jackets, woolen hats, scarves, gloves, and even then there were people hugging themselves for warmth while they stood waiting for the light to change.
I swear, it was noticeable enough that I started to wonder if I wasn’t somehow in a little bubble of thermal discontinuity, separated from reality by some unseen barrier that was fending off the horrible fate of freezing to death right there on the Boulevard at the end of April.
Not a single person in sight was walking around in a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. That’s one of the other bizarre things you’ll almost always see in Los Angeles, even if it truly is down below 40°, blowing a gale, and raining sideways. But not tonight.
When it gets so odd in LA that you have to stop, look around, and wonder what in hell’s going on, that’s a good day.