Gray in L.A.

This morning was cloudy and overcast. It looked like it might rain--but it didn't. It cleared up by the afternoon, but for a brief moment I got to enjoy the "other than sunny" weather. When I first moved to L.A., I thought the weather forecast on the news was a bit of a joke. What was there to say? "Sunny and warm is the forecast for today, tomorrow and the foreseeable future..."

Then in March it rained--no poured--the WHOLE FUCKING MONTH and I realized that L.A. definitely has more than one shade of weather. The shadings can be subtle, but they're there. My favorite is the May Gray or June Gloom. The "marine layer" or "onshore flow" covers the area like a blanket. It can be dazzlingly sunny in Hollywood or the valley, but cloudy and overcast nearer to the beaches. I live for those days. There's something calming and zen about them...
Which is why I love Loudon Wainwright III's song Gray in L.A. Featured in the movie Knocked Up and on his CD Strange Weirdos, it sums up that rare joy of an overcast day in Los Angeles.

Gray in L.A.

When its gray in L.A.,
I sure like it that way
Cuz there's way too much sunshine ‘round here
I don’t know about you, I get so sick of blue skies
Wherever they always appear

And I sure love the sound of the rain pouring down
On my car port roof made out of tin
If there’s a flood then there’s gonna be mudslides;
We all have to pay for our sin.

And I suppose that they’ll close canyon roads
And the freeways will all start to clog
And the waters will rise and you won’t be surprised
When your whole house smells like a wet dog

When its gray in L.A., its much better that way
It reminds you that this town’s so cool
Yeah it might feel like fun when you’re sporting sunglasses
But really you’re just one more fool.

And I’m just a chump, this whole town’s a dump
We came out here to dump all our dreams
Of making it big, but we’re stuck in a SIG alert nightmare
That’s just how it seems

And I suppose Laurie David sure knows,
All those cars we drive heat up our earth
And see temperatures rise and those constant blue skies
And brush fires can sure curb your mirth

Brad Grey’s in L.A., yeah okay I should say,
There’s no place that’s better, I know
For a wannabe star, stuck in a car,
On a freeway with nowhere to go.

When its gray in L.A., I sure like it that way
'Cuz theres way too much sunshine ‘round here
I don’t know about you, I get so sick of blue skies
Wherever they always appear.