I think I’m not supposed to like Southern California in general, and Los Angeles in particular. One is always coming across terribly suave, knowledgeable people who say they hate it here and want to get out of the rat race. Any day now, they assure everyone.
I like the rat race here. There are such cute rats! One just passed me in a deeply cool black Ferrari, shifting his gears very meaningfully all the way down Sunset. Wonder who he was.
The sun here can get hot, but not oppressively hot like in Ohio, where the heat and humidity have nowhere to escape. Here, we have a handy, attached ocean to give us breezes, and a great expanse of Nothing Very Much until one hits Hong Kong.
Yes, there’s Rodeo Drive and Sunset Strip, too. Mustn’t forget those!
I could do without those people who honk behind me in the right-turn lane at stop lights, but I feel it is a small price to pay.
And palm trees. Where would we be without palm trees? Sitting at a breakfast table on the side walk, under one, watching the dates ripen as I eat: yes, a proper way to start the day.
white pebble 