| — | Sex and the 18th Century Man, Thomas A. Foster |
What is a 21.5 Inches, wireless, cinema quality, and fruity all over?

Must be a sexy MAC on my desktop.
What’s living with Vista, slow, and bulky all over? 
It must be the PC under my bed.
We are still friends, but I’ve moved on. Thank you for the good times. We had some memorable moments like when we stayed up all night working on that 20 page paper. I’m so happy you never dumped me—especially when I was really frustrated with your slow capabilities. I hope you find a good home with my mother. Treat her well.
| — | E. Hemingway; The Sun Also Rises |
For the past two weeks I’ve been in the presence of dark rain clouds—not to mention a tornado in Huntington Beach and hurricane scheduled for tomorrow along the coast. Pay particular attention to the NorCal word choice. Indeed, I said coast. The beach is on leave until further notice. It is not the place of my recreation. It is not the place I spread out a blanket under the stars. NO, it’s the place I fear—The place children go to die. The place lifeguards stay away from. It is the place of Death! Therefore, I find it completely necessary to rename all Southern California beaches ‘The Coast’ for the time being. Until the weather patterns can prove their innocence, I strongly urge all Southern Californians to boycott the use of the term ‘beach.’
Thank you for your understanding and willingness to comply.
Another thing that has been bugging me—Have Californians gone mad? I live a life of experience. Put in simpler terms—I don’t rely on the news or the forecast to sway my knowledge about the weather, present or future. I have little understanding of ‘tropical storm’ or, heaven forbid, ‘El Nino.’ If I feel that a piece of sheet metal might kill me as I walk to my car, I probably won’t venture into the wind. If a puddle is too deep to cross in my four-door hatchback, well believe me, I won’t be flooding my engine anytime soon. Southern California, please do yourself a favor and stop caring what other people say. You will survive the weekend. It is not a terrorist attack. It is not another World War. It is simply a thing that all other Americans call Winter. It’s nice that we get to experience it once every ten years.