Solbit asks, “What, I could be a real Californian?”

Dear Nicalai,

Papa says that Californians and I share a common trait: we don’t feel cold.  “You mean that Nicalai and other Californians are made of plastic, too, like me?” I asked.  Nona chimed in, “Oh, no, Solbit, we would never say that Californians are plastic.  No, they are people like us (she meant like her and Papa; I’m not “people”) but, for some reason, they don’t feel the cold like we do.”

Night in Palm Springs in February is cold, but look at these Californians in shorts, tee shirt, and tank top!

Night in Palm Springs in February is cold, but look at these Californians in shorts, tee shirt, and tank top!

Being a plastic Jurassic, hot, cold, wet, or dry make no difference to me, but what are you California people, some sort of human penguin always in the same outfit?  You walk around in shorts and tank tops or tee shirts in winter.  Nona and Papa bundle up in what they call “layers.”  You Californians walk around as if it’s summer.  Don’t you get cold?

See the difference? Here are tourists, not from California, dressing sensibly for the winter cold.

See the difference? Here are tourists, not from California, dressing sensibly for the winter cold.

Oh, I need to tell you that we moved again.  Yeah, Saturday, we had to say goodbye to our wonderful AirBnB hosts, Jerry and Craig, and to their super friendly three-legged dogs, Cody and Gabe.  Gosh, after we left Palm Springs, the sky got all dark and cloudy, the wind started blowing — real hard — and Papa even had to turn on the windshield wipers.  Then we drove to our next AirBnB in Pasadena.  That’s a pretty city with cute “craftsman” houses and cottages, not far from Hollywood.  Hollywood is where they make movies.

We drove into Pasadena on these beautiful tree lined streets. I like trees, don't you?

We drove into Pasadena on these beautiful tree lined streets. I like trees, don’t you?

Nona and Papa’s Honda Civic is so old that I’m surprised the wipers still worked, but they did the job.  On the road, we were surrounded by big new cars and SUVs, but Nona and Papa say they don’t need a new car and they want to use their money for more important things.  Still, when we park in a lot next to all the fancy new cars, I kind of feel “different” or “odd” or like we’re “failures.”  Nona says, “Solbit, don’t pay so much attention to what others might think of you, and pay more attention to doing what you think is right. We think it’s right to save resources, so be proud of our old car that works so well.”

Nona and Papa's old 1995 Honda. Not! Just kidding. Erwin Wurm, an artist, made this Fat Car.  Fun, huh?

Nona and Papa’s old 1995 Honda. Not! Just kidding. Erwin Wurm, an artist, made this Fat Car. Fun, huh?

OK, I’ll try that, but, when we pass those new car lots here in California, I imagine us zooming down the road in one of those sleek cars.

Not much news here.  We just go for walks and more walks.  Nona and Papa seem to like something called “architecture.”  I don’t get it.  I’ll tell you more about “architecture” later.

Pasadena has all these "craftsman" houses.  Why do I like them so much?

Pasadena has all these “craftsman” houses. Why do I like them so much?

I’m your friend.

Love,

Solbit

March 2015

*New reader? Get oriented below.

  • You may be asking yourself, “Who is Solbit?” Solbit is a fictional character, but she is a real plastic dinosaur, sent to us unsolicited in a package we ordered from Photojojo. So, she’s a plastic jurassic. Solbit is short for the four names given her by our grandchildren: Sparkle, Orangie, Lulu, Breakit. We tend to use her given names for when she’s been naughty. Thank you for visiting Tales of a Plastic Jurassic. Solbit likes company and hopes you’ll come back.
  • You can learn more about Solbit at her About page and in the earlier posts, “Solbit: How I Got My Name” and “Solbit: How I Got to Travel.”

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