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Why We Live in
and Love L.A.
My maid has a cell phone.
If this is not enough of an indicator of everyday life in Los Angeles,
then consider the fact that she uses it like a credit card sales person,
calling almost weekly to set up her next appointment and attempting
to guilt-trip me into scheduling her for more visits. (I'm holding out
for her to start offering frequent-flier miles for every dish she washes.)
There are other quirks about living in L.A. that are completely foreign
to life anywhere else on this planet. For instance, traffic on the freeways
suddenly stops without warning. You can be happily buzzing along when
all of a sudden – BAM! Gridlock. Bumper to bumper. A couple
of miles later, it's all gone,without a trace or even a hint as to what
even caused the slowdown. This can happen any time of the day or night.
Then there's the lack of an attention span among the people. One minute,
a particular idea or item is the greatest thing since double espresso,
but as soon as something else comes along, it's as outdated as Roseanne
Barr.
Living here involves being on the cutting edge of technology. Angelenos
must always have the most powerful computer, the latest software, the
hottest gadgets, the newest cellular phone (everyone here has at least
four older, but otherwise perfectly useful models in their junk drawer),
and be dressed in the most fashionable fashions. Trendy is not
a word here, it's a an obsession. These toys are paid for exclusively
by credit card; we would rather have the cell service go down than be
caught at the store with a checkbook.
We complain about anything that's not perfect: The bread at a high-priced
restaurant, seats not being in the Field Level when someone gives us
tickets to a Dodger game, the guests on The Tonight Show when
we decide to go, that kind of thing.
Yet despite our shortcomings, we do have one positive attribute that
practically no other place in the world can claim. Something so wonderful
that it keeps us here and more than makes up for any traffic the 405
can dish out. And the odd thing about it is that in this land of riches
where money does indeed buy many people's happiness, it is free.
It's sunshine.
Los Angeles has, without peer, the world's best weather. It's sunny
something like 325 days a year. Temperatures are consistently in the
70s with never a hint of humidity. It's Bliss with a capital "B."
Our weather wonderland is of particular benefit in the "winter"
months.
I bring this up because many of us have just spent the holidays with
our families in other parts of the U.S. (Another quirk about L.A. is
that nobody is from here; we all come from someplace else.) Now, while
we all enjoy time with our moms, pops, sisters, brothers, nephews, family
pets and high school friends – The Bartender in particular has
a blast playing "Uncle Kevin" – we all pretty much freeze
to death.
Temporarily relocated to places such as Tennessee, Indiana, Chicago,
Philadelphia, New York/New Jersey and St. Louis, the snow, low temperatures
and other such conditions ravage our warmth-parched bodies. We shake,
we shiver, we go days at a time without ever setting foot outside the
house. It's so cold, walking to the mailbox is a major ordeal.
My dad tells me the obscene temperatures are good because they kill
off a pesky pest known as the pine beetle. Yeah, but what about my outer
skin!?
By the time we return to L.A. we shed our heavy coats, layered sweaters
and "magic socks" (a wonderful creation I discovered that
scores BIG with the family) and give ourselves back to the sun.
"I was never so happy to be back home," said Laz,
one of the area's few actual natives who spent the holidays at his wife's
parents in Alabama, said after one trip. "Our flight was late,
we had to go into a different airport, but I didn't care. I just needed
to back here, back to this weather!"
(One other thing about Angelenos: We are comfortable only when the
temperature is in the 72- to 78-degree range.)
A few days after returning, we inevitably find ourselves back at the
beach, walking around in shorts or going for a run or bike ride.
So, while the rest of the country is getting blasted with all those
winter storms, freezing temperatures, icy roads, airport closings and
high heating bills, we are at the beach, an outdoor cafe or a patio
bar with a cold drink in hand, unable to relate to the weather world
around us.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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