Life is a Labyrinth
Due to gerrymandering some time ago, probably two or three demographic shifts past (right now I'm blocks from Little Saigon, city within a city within a city), I live in a part of a city that is long and thin, tucked like a pencil between the bulk of LA County and Huntington Beach. I am bad at estimating distances, but it can't be more than half a mile across, more like a quarter mile.
All of this bordering, of course, is invisible. What everyone thinks of as 'Los Angeles' is a hundred-mile-long patchwork of such towns, noticeable only if you happen to catch the 'welcome to . .' signs along various boulevards. But they still have local governments, and our tiny city is in the middle of a recall battle.
So one of my many tasks has been to do some digging to find out what's going on so I'll know how to vote. What I discovered (besides the usual politician peculation, etc) was clan struggles going back to the Vietnam War. Actually, previous to it, when these clans were mired in East Asian politics before the ruction of the war.
So many overlapping stories.
Like everyone else, we're trying to make a new normal. The spouse finds comfort in staying glued to the news from when he wakes up until he crashes for the night. He's always been one to face the oncoming train.
Me, I discovered as a little kid that it didn't hurt less to see the belt, or the wire hanger, or the fist coming. In fact, it hurt worse because of bracing, but if I looked away, preferably at something pretty, and tried hard to divorce my mind from what was happening, I could endure better. So it's always been, when I'm helpless against whatever. I avoid the news, except for headline scanning from sources I trust. I'm focusing on projects, on reading, watching gorgeous historical dramas full of magic.
We do get together to do stuff--last night the son pried spouse away from the TV and me from a beta read so we could watch THE MEN WHO STARE AT GOATS. We laughed like maniacs, and felt better.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1027710.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
All of this bordering, of course, is invisible. What everyone thinks of as 'Los Angeles' is a hundred-mile-long patchwork of such towns, noticeable only if you happen to catch the 'welcome to . .' signs along various boulevards. But they still have local governments, and our tiny city is in the middle of a recall battle.
So one of my many tasks has been to do some digging to find out what's going on so I'll know how to vote. What I discovered (besides the usual politician peculation, etc) was clan struggles going back to the Vietnam War. Actually, previous to it, when these clans were mired in East Asian politics before the ruction of the war.
So many overlapping stories.
Like everyone else, we're trying to make a new normal. The spouse finds comfort in staying glued to the news from when he wakes up until he crashes for the night. He's always been one to face the oncoming train.
Me, I discovered as a little kid that it didn't hurt less to see the belt, or the wire hanger, or the fist coming. In fact, it hurt worse because of bracing, but if I looked away, preferably at something pretty, and tried hard to divorce my mind from what was happening, I could endure better. So it's always been, when I'm helpless against whatever. I avoid the news, except for headline scanning from sources I trust. I'm focusing on projects, on reading, watching gorgeous historical dramas full of magic.
We do get together to do stuff--last night the son pried spouse away from the TV and me from a beta read so we could watch THE MEN WHO STARE AT GOATS. We laughed like maniacs, and felt better.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1027710.html. Please comment there using OpenID.