Richter and Key, in a photo that totally makes Key look fatter than she is (I doubt she will mind)

Sometimes I get half-heartedly resentful at these two because owning cats means I can’t just leave my world behind and move to Slovenia on a dime, but then one of them does something funny and my plans to abandon America fade.

I’ve known since I was young that I always wanted cats—and, later on, maybe some goats—as opposed to kids, and I think that’s an okay thing to admit. Children aren’t for everyone (and not that pets are, either—it’s all just preference).

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.

WU LYF at the Lodge Room

Fifteen years ago, WU LYF were all the hype and they had this lore about their live shows being a hefty dose of energy amidst a bland, guys-with-moustaches-and-banjos indie rock scene. After being broken up since 2012, they’re back with a solid new album and a tour to boot.

I can’t tell if I’m just getting older, or everybody is, or there’s a legitimate disconnect in live shows now against back then, but it’s just so strange to watch a crowd stay relatively still for pretty dance-worthy music. Maybe it’s just because I came up from the punk scene where any given show would have complete strangers falling over each other and helping one another up in a communal joy, but it’s weird to see a rock band have a fairly sterile response (at least considering the energy they provided).

Nevertheless, they were solid, but I spent a lot of time wondering about if the relatively dormant crowd was a sign of an increasingly broken society, or if we’re all just fifteen years older and our knees can’t take jumping around as much as they used to.

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.