The Grove

On The Sidewalk

Swap Meet

I live in a pretty rough-and-tumble part of LA now, so on days when I go to see a movie and the theater is in a upper-middle-class outdoor mall, it can be quite a diverse experience of people-watching.

There’s a pretty decent interview with Jordan Harper where he talks all things Los Angeles and he’s got some great one-liners (“This city is such a ball of contradictions—I love that we aren’t hidden from the violence of the world, but we also aren’t hidden from the beauty of it.”)

I think my favorite though comes toward the end when he’s asked about the nature of LA—

I just think that Los Angeles is the most American city. It is kind of the culmination of everything we think about ourselves and the truth about ourselves … New York, that’s a European city, they just happened to land here. People in the Midwest want to think that they’re different than us, but they’re captured by the same things: it’s real estate and money and guns and cops and sex and violence and dreams. This is the place where American dreams come from. Nobody talks about the American Real, they talk about the American Dream … This is America dreaming itself, right?

I wholeheartedly agree and I think that’s why I’ve always gravitated towards LA—even before I moved here I’d visit often and enjoy every moment. Even though most of my personal views are antithetical to much of what the city represents, underneath the Hollywood sheen does lie the foundations of what the United States is, for better and worse, and that’s a fascinating thing to observe while the empire is in a rapid state of decay.

If nothing else, Los Angeles is the cultural hub of America. While New York might represent the ‘Art World’ more, artists in LA have always had to clash and compromise with the world of entertainment—which is just art with its neck under the boot of capitalism. So much of culture in LA is representative of the class war being experienced nationwide—corporate movie chains struggling while independent theaters flourish, taco trucks having lines as long as fine dining wait-lists, the homeless encampments underneath apartment complexes where a one-bedroom is $3800 a month, Oscar winners grabbing In-N-Out. The contrasts are on full display, everywhere, all of the time—here, you can’t ignore what America truly is, how the push and pull between the everyday people and the ones in control ebb and flow, the way you can in a suburb where the center of town consists of an Outback steakhouse and a Whole Foods.

That, and the weather is perfect like seven months out of the year.

Jackie-O Motherfucker live at Zebulon

I can’t tell if this is an I’m just getting old complaint, but last night at the JOMF show, three bands were set to play and doors opened at eight, with Jackie-O’s headlining set scheduled for 10:20 pm. To me that’s just wild, especially given the first band went on after a 20 minute delay. A Thursday night show with three bands taking as many hours to wrap up—two of which had 20-30 minute sets—is just way too long.

Again, though, maybe I’m just getting old, and it was nice to hear “Hey! Mr. Sky” live.

Frogtown is an interesting neighborhood because during the day it is abuzz with people walking along the river, but at night it remains relatively quiet. Events might be happening at various hot spots, and there might be limited parking, but it’s one of the places in LA where there just aren’t a ton of people wandering. It keeps pretty quiet once the sun sets, sort of like you have to know what’s happening where to actually run in to anyone. I saw maybe three people on my walk to a sold-out Big | Brave show at Zebulon.

After living in a number of small to mid-size cities throughout my 20s and 30s, I’ve landed in Los Angeles for the past five years and feel like it’s the right kind of fit—even though, somewhat ironically, I’d call it the most American city in the United States. It’s a sprawling collection of towns and suburbs connected by freeways and back roads more than it really is a city, with a few urban centers with skyscrapers orbiting the official ‘downtown.’ There’s any number of reasons this is an interesting set-up, which is a post for another time.

Right now I’m finding the most relevant aspect of this to be moving. I’ve spent my time in LA so far in a couple different apartments in East Hollywood—a neighborhood I liked a lot for its convenience to public transit, generally central location, decent walkability and a solid variety of places to eat. Now I live in Westlake, which feels like I may as well have moved across the country.

Fountain Ave, East Hollywood

It’s only four miles southeast of where I used to live, but the differences are stark. This is one of the reasons I really enjoy LA as a city—when I lived in Portland, it didn’t really matter what part I lived in. It was generally similar across the board and small enough where getting across town was no chore. San Francisco had more destination neighborhoods (where people might gravitate to the Mission on the weekend, no matter what part of the city you were from) and it didn’t seem to matter where anyone lived, as the city was only seven miles square. When I lived in those places, I felt like in order to change up my life I had to get out completely, whereas here I just have to find a new place in a new neighborhood and it feels about the same.

This offers such an interesting take on reinvention. A city that is known for being constantly in flux also offers the chance to change your life without ever leaving. While there’s plenty to have a grievance about in LA, the opportunity to have that kind of existential relationship with a place is pretty unique in America. And while my new place is pretty incredible and I hope to not leave anytime soon, it’s good to know if I ever need to, I won’t have to go far.