About this time each year, when the Northwest is oppressed by the incessant late-winter gloom, I start reminiscing about my SoCal days, and memories of people running around Palm Springs in shorts and tank tops on Christmas Eve.
The high today in Palm Springs was 81, and tomorrow they're expecting 85.
Got the California blues, and I'm sure gonna leave you here;
Got the California blues, and I'm sure gonna leave you here;
I may ride the blinds; I ain't got no railroad fare.
Hear it warbled sweetly by the singing brakeman, the late, great Jimmie Rodgers.
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