It was hecka worth the drive

Since I’ve been away from Southern California for a while, I forgot how different the ends of our state are. I drove into Riverside, glanced down at the temperature gauge in my car that read “108” and noticed the smog. I smiled. I was feeling a little nostalgic and sentimental about the smog and the heat. Really. I started to think/remember the differences. This is what I came up with:

In Southern California, but never in Northern California:

You might look out the passenger’s side window and notice a “bro.” Look a little farther to his passenger and you just might see a “bro ho.” You know: The guy in the tripped out truck with a “Famous” shirt and a 909 sticker with a rain cross on the back of his truck. The girl has bleached blonde hair and a black bandanna tied as a head band. We don’t have them up here. They are indigenous to the bottom half of the state.

The freeways in Southern California have the article “the” in front of them. For example, “Go ahead and take the 71 to avoid the traffic on the 10. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, there’s always traffic on the 10.” Stranger than the difference: I use the word “the” when I’m talking about freeways down there, but I leave it off when I talk about freeways up here. I didn’t realize I did it until someone pointed out the difference to me.

You can drive by, walk through, and visit the famed California Baptist University.

In Northern California, but never in Southern California:

The summer night is cool, you look up, and you see stars. Enough said.

The Christians say “hecka” and the unchurched say “hella.” When naive high school graduates move from Northern California to Southern California to attend college, they use one of the variations of “hella” and are met with derision. They learn to never use that word again. Or, at least until Christmas break.

You might wear jeans in the summer months.

I come home.

I had a great time on my visit. I laughed until I cried with Tyler, I ate at Simple Simon's, I watched Down with Love with Amy (I don’t recommend it unless you’re visiting the Miller home--in that case, by all means, watch away), I went to San Diego with Jen and Megan, I got to visit with Daniel, Janelle, and Kim at Janelle and Darren's apartment, I helped Jen and Jeremy name their cat, and I finally met Azina (and visited with Keith). Sigh. It was good.