My family lived (1960s) inland from Los Angeles. On car trips to the beach, our eyes would start burning as we entered Los Angeles proper. We took a vacation trip to Hawaii. Amidst the excitement of my first jet flight (707), I noted a distinct brown band in the coastal clouds that we were climbing through.
Years later, in Vietnam turmoil and the rise of an ecology consciousness movement, and calls for "significant, meaningful, and relevant" education, my UCLA freshman chemistry professor (the late Dr. Mario Baur) announced that the day's lecture would be not from the syllabus, but instead on recent findings in smog science. He described photochemical mechanisms in smog formation.
Some years later, I worked in a Los Angeles highrise building that was not very careful about roof access. The air even at 24 stories, smelled nitric like Young Hall (UCLA Chemistry), plus a slug of ozone. Automotive rubber parts turned into glassy garbage after a couple of years: weatherstripping, wipers, radiator and vacuum hoses. Uh, what about my lungs?
But what the heck do you call ground stuff stuffed in a thin casing other than a sausage ?
Tube steak
If a camel is a horse designed by a committee, then a consensus forecast is a camel's behind. -- Edgar R. Fiedler