Escalating Los Angeles Real Estate Prices Changing The Culture Of The Beach Cities
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain…
– Frank Sinatra
I’ve been singing these lyrics from Frank Sinatra’s song “My Way” quite a bit lately because the end is near – well, actually it’s here – for another era of my life.
After three and a half years, I am once again forced to leave living on The Strand, the most prime piece of beachfront real estate in Southern California. Here in Los Angeles, The Strand is a two-lane piece of concrete that runs 25 miles from the Santa Monica Pier south to the foot of the Palos Verdes cliffs, all along the Pacific Ocean.
And here in Southern California, it lined not with high-rise condos or hotels (or restaurants and bars, much to my disappointment) but residential houses. Residential houses that once housed people like me, young and fun renters who live the beach life the way you think people who live on the beach should be living in Southern California.
Alas, all good things must come to an end, and once again this has happened to me. The house I am two other people have been renting in Hermosa Beach was sold. In its place will go a $10 million spec home, one devoid of any character and personalty.
I know it will be this way because it’s happening all over Hermosa; this is the seventh classic old beach bungalow demolished in a mere two-block area the past couple of years and if the others are any indication, this one will look the same as the others, a concrete-and-glass ugly place with – and this is what I really don’t get – a sunken patio with a tiny front deck.
Our house, which consists of upstairs and downstairs units plus a little space over the garage and built in the 1920s, was sold for more than $7 million. It will be turned to rubble as soon as my last flip-flop step takes place out the door.
But we’ve had some great times here: annual Fourth of July and combined birthday celebrations, front and center for the the LA Kings Stanley Cup championship parade right down The Strand, beach volleyball taking place all morning day right in front of us and the numerous Alabama Crimson Tide football watching parties that roommate Laura never knew could be so much fun until I moved into the place.
This house has had a long-standing tradition of being one of the most social hangouts in the South Bay, where people stop by on a sunny weekend afternoon while riding their bikes along The Strand to have a few drinks to the impromptu “hey let’s go party at The Strand” gatherings so frequent in this area.
I can tell you one thing: if you live on The Strand here in Hermosa Beach or neighboring Manhattan Beach, you had better have extra alcohol in your fridge or cabinets for when friends and strangers of friends drop by unexpectedly. to party.
Me, I kept a fully-stocked tiki bar in the house.
This is actually the fourth time I’ve had to move from a place on The Strand. And while that may sound sad to some to me it’s a blessing that I even lived once on The Strand.
And who knows, I could live there again one day.
Cheers!
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