Meaningful Returns

Though I claim the Old North State as my own, I was actually born in Southern California, which is something I used to think made me really cool to girls in middle school, probably.

California is, and I mean this as non-pejoratively as I can, a strange magical land. And it has been for a long time, drawing people to it like moths and other little weird unidentified bugs are drawn to my front porch light. I say this as someone who has not been back to the state since I was nine months old.

Do you know what attracts many people to California? The climate. Surprise! It’s the climate. Though I am sure no purely objective standard of best weather exists in this world, I would guess that the closest thing we could get is the parts of California which are apparently always 73 degrees and sunny and without much humidity. I myself like to think that I prefer clearly delineated seasons, but I’m told I’m wrong and that the perpetual greatness of 73 and sunny and no humidity would be nicer than my bad opinion.

It’s no secret that most people, even if they never move to California, believe that doing so would make them happier. Californians themselves think they are happier than the rest of us, which has a slightly bourgeoisie ring to it, but whatever. The main reason for all of this thinking that California is happier is generally the climate there.

But you know what? Californian’s AREN’T any happier than the rest of us. SPOILER ALERT. I’m not making this up as a jaded non-Californian, but as a reader of things like the studies which prove pretty conclusively that Californian’s aren’t any happier (despite believing that they are, which I guess is a bit of a downer for them, with expectations not being met and such).

Perhaps you aren’t a fan of my tone by now, especially if you’re from California. But all I mean to say is this:

When we think great weather in California will make us happier, or that getting a bigger house will make us happier, or that driving a Porsche will make us happier, or that eating that extra slice of pizza will make us happier, we are often leaving out all of the attending life details that would actually detract from our happiness, and that over a long enough period of time would largely cancel out the happiness that we derive. We are quick to think of the sun and the temperature and the swaying breeze and the surfing but not the traffic and the cost of real estate and the earthquakes and that we will still have to go to the dentist twice a year.

Perhaps the moral to this story is that it is better to visit California than it is to live there, but more than likely the moral is simply to realize that we are prone to making these mistakes whenever we try to forecast our future happiness, and to adjust our expectations (as well as our present decisions) accordingly.