Gotta Love L.A.
[Drunken faffing deleted]
I love so many great cities around the world. One of my favorites – if not my favorite – is Los Angeles.
Even as I type this, I miss it. I miss friends who live there, and wish I were driving north on the Pacific Coast Highway from Santa Monica to Malibu in a fucking rented convertible blasting Randy Newman’s “I Love LA” on the stereo knowing every single lyric, singing along at the top of my voice, getting every reference and ignoring Newman’s sarcasm easy.
Rollin’ down the Imperial Highway
With a big nasty redhead at my side
Santa Ana winds blowin’ hot from the north
And we was born to ride.
It is often said that home is where the heart is. If so, my heart is everywhere – from Chicago
and so many places in between, big and small. I feel at home in so many places. At peace. Comfortable. I understand.
I am an Angeleno. I was an Angeleno even before I arrived with my mother and sister when I was 15. But I don’t even pretend to understand LA. I suspect no does. No one can. LA is a constantly moving target. There is no direction. I mean that literally. If you ever spend time in LA you will find that your cardinal point send of direction will fade away. You won’t know east and west, north and south: you’ll know streets and freeways. It is a canvas that countless artists paint upon. It is everything to everyone and anything to anyone.
My good friend Joseph snt me this picture that is simply perfectly “Los Angeles.”
Please click on the picture to see it in its full size so you can read those parking signs.
Makes perfect sense to me.
I love LA.