Lit Up
There are a many reasons to love living in Los Angeles: sunshine, beaches, California fare, and movie screenings. Premieres are good and all, but being in a test market that allows you to see movies months before they're released is just one of the perks of living in the city. A couple of years ago, I was fortunate enough to see a rough cut of "Harold and Kumar: Escape from Guantanamo Bay." The movie itself wasn't anything noteworthy, although it did have some good parts in it. I admit that I'm not above toilet humor every now and then, but I am always dismayed to see humor exploit a situation instead of using it as an opportunity to comment or inform. I get that being gross is funny--and I still laugh--but I can't help but wonder what I'm supposed to be amused by. I wonder if there's still this whole sense of amusement around bodily functions because we aren't quite comfortable talking about things (or ever will be?) and instead become titillated by seemingly natural things--it's taboo and risqué, therefore it's all right to laugh? Sometimes, it all seems so pointless. Okay, so there are many things wrong with Neil Patrick Harris branding a hooker, but I still laughed. Does that make me a bad person?
Driving home from a screening I saw the lights over LAX from the 110. I have to admit that it's been a while since I've been in the general area of the airport at night and it was eerie to see these little sparks floating off in space. Sadly, my first instinct was to guess that they were SWAT helicopters that were searching for someone. It's nights like these that make me fall in love with the city all over again. There are so many things wrong with the city that I've completely lost count, but the twinkling lights cutting through a cold and crisp night make me feel something unique.
As I continued driving, though, I couldn't help but think back to a song that I heard the day prior. Here, right in front of me, was a literal situation in which lights were guiding me (or someone) home. I'm not quite sure if Los Angeles has become home yet, although I've lived my entire independent adult life here. I don't think there will ever be anything quite like seeing the lights over Hawaii, though, and knowing that I'm coming back to the place where I was born, if not the place that I call home.
Seeing the lights in the sky adrift in the fog (smog?), I also began to think about The Great Gatsby and the strange irony of a warning light drawing me in. It's as though there's something whose purpose is to tell of danger but, when, in the darkness, it's all I can see and I can't help but feel a sense of longing and curiosity. Maybe it's a physical representation of an unattainable goal--something just out of reach but real enough to see.
The more that I think about the song, the more that I'm falling in love with it. I've heard this track many times over the years, but it never really seemed to stick. I have managed to find a version on BOCA '07, though, which has completely taken over my brain. Nothing against the original band, but there's just something about a cappella that gets me every time.
Driving home from a screening I saw the lights over LAX from the 110. I have to admit that it's been a while since I've been in the general area of the airport at night and it was eerie to see these little sparks floating off in space. Sadly, my first instinct was to guess that they were SWAT helicopters that were searching for someone. It's nights like these that make me fall in love with the city all over again. There are so many things wrong with the city that I've completely lost count, but the twinkling lights cutting through a cold and crisp night make me feel something unique.
As I continued driving, though, I couldn't help but think back to a song that I heard the day prior. Here, right in front of me, was a literal situation in which lights were guiding me (or someone) home. I'm not quite sure if Los Angeles has become home yet, although I've lived my entire independent adult life here. I don't think there will ever be anything quite like seeing the lights over Hawaii, though, and knowing that I'm coming back to the place where I was born, if not the place that I call home.
Seeing the lights in the sky adrift in the fog (smog?), I also began to think about The Great Gatsby and the strange irony of a warning light drawing me in. It's as though there's something whose purpose is to tell of danger but, when, in the darkness, it's all I can see and I can't help but feel a sense of longing and curiosity. Maybe it's a physical representation of an unattainable goal--something just out of reach but real enough to see.
The more that I think about the song, the more that I'm falling in love with it. I've heard this track many times over the years, but it never really seemed to stick. I have managed to find a version on BOCA '07, though, which has completely taken over my brain. Nothing against the original band, but there's just something about a cappella that gets me every time.