West-siders rock this soggy east coast

Whiskey and Rye
    By John Schochet

You know those winter days that just plain suck? I'm not talking about snowy days—those bring crisp air and a quaint, New England feel. No, I'm referring to those miserable, gray days when it's 38 degrees, a bit too warm for snow but plenty cold enough for bone-chilling rain. It's on those days that I wonder why the hell I didn't go to Stanford.

I guess it's time for me to officially come out: I'm a Westerner—a northern Californian—born and bred. Granted, I love Yale and wouldn't give up my four years here for all the sunny, 72-degree days in the world. Nevertheless, two years at Yale have given me plenty to complain about. The East Coast has many wonderful qualities, but in the end, it just can't hold a candle to the West Coast's natural beauty, great weather, nice people, and good coffee.

But before I start ripping on the region that most Yalies call home, I'd like to steal a page from my high school's Advanced Placement history class and "define my terms."

West Coast: Mostly northern California, but also includes Oregon and Washington. The West Coast does not include that indefensible bastion of misery we call Los Angeles. Yes, it happens to be located in the southern portion of my state, but it's a region unto itself with which I cannot associate.

East Coast: The region extending from Northern Virginia to Connecticut, centered around that big bully of a metropolis, New York City, and its bastard step-child called New Jersey. Note the exclusion of Boston, which I've always seen as a West Coast city dropped on the wrong coast by some Puritanical accident of history—their beer's just too damn good to be truly Eastern.

So, time for the showdown:

Match No. 1: Food. Our selection of food here ranges from the Yale Dining Halls to, at best, Pepe's. Pepe's, although it produces a nice pie, is a markedly unpleasant place to eat, and the paper you waste soaking grease off the pizza could save an entire (Western) forest. If Washington, D.C., is any indication, no food south of New York is any good. While New York itself is rumored to have some excellent eateries, a dangerous combination of obnoxious waitstaff and inflated prices keep those rumors of good food just rumors.

Out West we have Zachary's Chicago Pizza, which is no doubt better than anything ever produced in Chicago. As if that weren't enough, San Francisco, Portland and Seattle are all full of reasonably-priced, healthy eateries. We have fresh fish—nothing except apples on the East Coast is fresh—as well as produce the likes of which most Yalies have never even imagined. And, to top that off, there is no smoking in any bar or restaurant anywhere in California. West 4, East 0.

Match No. 2: Water. They have the Long Island Sound and the Potomac River. We have Puget Sound and San Francisco Bay. 'Nuff said. West 8, East 0.

Match No. 3: Weather. The concept of seasons is wonderful. How beautiful is it to experience the full cycle through fall, winter, spring and summer? Not enough to make me appreciate 24/7 leaf blowers (fall), dirty slush on the ground and cold—not fluffy—sleet in the sky (winter), or an inescapable sauna (summer). Spring's fine, but that's pretty much what we have year-round out West. Easterners have to deal with snow where they live, and, if they want to ski, they drive six hours to skid down an 18-inch ice sheet in Vermont. We don't live in the snow, but should a day on the slopes strike our fancy, three hours in a Grand Cherokee will whisk any good Westerner to a beautiful alpine slope where they measure snow-pack in dozens of feet. But if it's so nice there in winter, the West must have horribly hot summer weather, right?

Not if you don't want it. The Pacific Coast has its very own outdoor air conditioner called fog. Most summer days you can find temperatures around 60 degrees within five miles of the water, warming up to a relaxing 72 in most Bay locations. West 12, East 1.

Match No. 4: Coffee. The best coffee on the West Coast is Starbucks. Pathetic, but true. In spite of Starbucks' unfortunate presence, we can also get our brew from local chains, all of which produce excellent coffee (particularly Peet's). I wish I could say the same for the East. This also applies to beer and wine out west (Yalies think Rolling Rock is a classy beer!), but I needn't repeat myself. West 16, East 1.

Game, set, match: West coast wins hands-down.

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