In short, after a long and tremendous break from this space (unintentional), I have arrived here with a new family. Of my own making. One is my age (which is helpful when you’re referencing particular decade fashions among other things), now joined in matrimony, and the other, a small sprightly thing of age 8 currently. This one in particular, grasping at everything in this world as if he owns it but most often trying to hole himself up into his VR headset. So. Here we are. The adventures continue in lives, in our lives, still in Los Angeles.
In mentioning transitions, consider Fall, or what we name it, despite its semi-meaninglessness in Los Angeles, California; the first day of fall has finally ushered in some semblance of a heat break. A lucky break from the heat. The marine layer coming to us five miles from the ocean each morning, takes its gray body above our houses and slowly allows itself to dissolve by noon, or around 2pm. I imagined petite rain drops on my face this morning while I walked the dog, but convinced myself I had totally lied to myself because I wanted it to be true too badly. Turns out, in this instance, I was not delusional – only covered by the monstrous pinus canariensis (canary pine) trees that line the pathway I take – many colleagues had in fact, experienced a tiny rush of misty wetness on their way into work this morning. I can hold that close to my heart. Onward to our gloomy week, to say happily goodbye (for now) to exhausted summer days.
I can see the relief in the faces of people around me. Though many Angelenos, transplants or natives, stay to engage in the nearly daily sunny weather this particular piece of land provides; I see they too, needed a break from dripping in sweat. The 100 plus degree temperatures made for quite a few delinquent drivers – they cut you off, they drove too close, too fast, they used their horns! In the grocery store, our family was pushed aside while a shopper grabbed his bread; we were squeezed together in down the aisles trying to fit between leased dogs and hurried vegetarians grabbing frozen meals. The carts around us hit several ankles. Sometimes, residents of the streets yelled loudly, meandering down West Hollywood sidewalks. We wandered and moved through LA, bleary eyed and zombie like. We were grouchy as a city. Nearly dangerous, rude and selfishly focused. With a hint of chill, the traffic has slowed, we make way for others to pass, and for now, no one is yelling.
As monsoon season sweeps the heat off continents across the Earth – on such a smaller scale – our city, with its tiny whisper of greener pastures, takes a breather. We all relax a bit more, and let the cool, sunny afternoon emerge. Los Angeles has changed as a city, and writing brings perspective on its differences. I’m happy to again be here in this space; on to new adventures.
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 