L.A. Story

It's easy to fall into the trap of berating Los Angeles, especially as an East Coaster. We tend to band together at parties and bars, declaring our intellectual superiority and point out all things laughable. And it's not like this town makes us hard up for material. Orange-hued girls in sequined mini dresses and plastic grapefruit-shaped breasts sit vacantly beside married men in power. Diners spend obscene amounts of money on raw food, because it's de rigueur and they saw the chef on The Food Network. They pay no mind to the fact that 3 oz. of what is essentially julienne vegetables cost as much as a car payment.

At the same time, there is much to love about this place. And there's something to be said about that simple quote, "If you don't like it, leave." Sure, people in the entertainment industry will give the standard defense, "I have to be here," to which there is the standard retort, "There's always New York." There are some instances where New York is not an option, say for writers of a television show that shoots in Los Angeles. In that case, we must remind them once again that leaving is still an option.

Not that this blog will be solely dedicated to praising Los Angeles. I feel almost morally obligated to call things out that strike me as shady. But that doesn't mean I can't acknowledge the perfect weather, deep green canyons and Mexican food that gets your tongue wagging.

These mixed feelings conjure up memories from the amazing film L.A. Story, when Sara (played by Victoria Tennant) says, "Roland thinks L.A. is a place for the brain-dead. He says, if you turned off the sprinklers, it would turn into a desert. But I think - I don't know, it's not what I expected. It's a place where they've taken a desert and turned it into their dreams."

And who can argue that?

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