She's Got Legs (And They're Blue)

Southern California carries a certain reputation where its women are concerned. They're said to be quite beautiful, and while that's probably not uniformly true, it's true enough that the reputation is well-earned. The women are indeed very good looking, and they are resolutely committed to showing just as much as they can. In fact, if anything, it may be so that they show too much. I certainly don't say so out any sense of puritanical devotion or propriety. It would hardly be the time now to start with that attitude. Nonetheless, I have my reasons for at least half-wishing that LA's women, breathtaking though they are, would cover up some of the time. It is something like how if one engages in unsafe stunts during an improv scene, it does not matter how funny it is when the audience fears that injury may come to one of the performers.

The thing is that one who only has visited the area during summer or perhaps spring break would not realize how cold it can get here during winter. It's especially bad far out in the desert areas, but in the city it can be rough. At the late hour during which I write this, it is in the mid 40s. I certainly can recall praying for temperatures like that during winter months in Chicago, but then I had proper clothes at the ready then too. I don't have that now, and neither do the very attractive and ordinarily beguiling women of this town. As I said, they are most committed to showing what they have to full advantage. You see even now short shorts and miniskirts that would be most appealing to me if I did not fear for the health and well-being of the wearer. Is it sexy when they shiver? I've heard that black is beautiful, but is blue? Weight loss is a popular pastime, but what about when it comes about as a result of frostbite?

Maybe I have not got my priorities straight, but there is something to be said for pragmatism and practicality. I'm just not attracted to the cold and flu-stricken ladies. Sniffling and sneezing doesn't do it for me. Icy skin cools my ardor, and what can I do about all of that? The heart wants what it wants. Maybe I'm supposed to see in this situation opportunity: a comely damsel is in distress (specifically related to a hazardous drop in her core body temperature), and I the manly Johnny-on-the-spot am well-positioned to offer life-saving warmth of one kind or another. Well, I'm not going to be brought down myself in a heroic effort to save even a very good-looking woman from hypothermia unless she possesses one thing which remains warm even in the most bitterly cold blizzard: a personality.

I mean that. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't believe in saving from death by exposure to the elements just every women who comes along. That's just immoral. I was raised to believe that I must save the life only of the women with whom I intend to spend the rest of my life. I haven't 'gone Hollywood' where that's concerned. I stand by the morals instilled in me back in Arizona. I confess that the issue of scantily-clad women suffering from the cold as a result of their garments isn't one that gets addressed very commonly there, although I think I may have heard tell of it from up north. Down where I grew up, it's really not a problem. Actually, it's modesty that places one's health in jeopardy there. In a lot of ways, I miss home...