10 Observations About L.A.
Or, a few things I've learned about the left coast after one month of residency:
1. An "exclusive" club on the Sunset Strip offers pretty much the same atmosphere as a less exclusive, run-of-the-mill club anywhere else: same bad music, same bad dancing, same overpriced drinks, same ex-frat boys pissing in the sinks. The "premium" here is (maybe) a pool, bigger tits, and firmer abs.
2. The number of palm trees in a neighborhood is directly proportional to the size of its average incomes.
3. In 'N Out Burger is just as good as Donny said it was.
4. If you dig classic one-screen theaters like I do, LA is the place for you. Many still have their original neon facades (or convincing replicas). The Mann Village and Mann Bruin here in Westwood still part the curtains at the beginning of every feature.
5. Mexican food isn't remarkably better out here, despite the fact that we stole the place from right under Santa Ana's mustache. You can get a glass of horchata just about anywhere, though. Hooray for horchata.
6. UCLA has one of the prettiest campuses in academia, but you wouldn't know if from their promotional materials.
7. Southeastern California is a preview of post-apocalyptic America: nothing but a vast swath of nothing. While trekking over from the East Coast, I almost ran out of gas somewhere between the Arizona border and Barstow. I swear to God, the first concern that ran through my head wasn't dehydration or having to hitch a ride with a sketchy trucker, but running into some mutant with a gimp on a leash driving a dune buggy.
8. Remember the little French girl from Saving Private Ryan? You know, the one who Vin Diesel saves and then wails on her father for being such a cowardly surrender monkey and leaving her to zee Germans? She isn't actually French.
9. Driving in LA is intense, but not Boston intense. While New England driving is a Hobbesian free-for-all wherein it's every douchebag for himself, LA driving is simply a cosmic test of willpower. LA drivers are just way too into their little urbanite bubbles to notice that they're holding up traffic. As such, a little assertiveness goes a long way. I still (almost) run into the occasional Hobbesian douchebag, but I'm pretty sure they're just other East Coast transplants.
10. The new primetime TV trend for 2007: rookie cop shows. You read it here first, folks.
1. An "exclusive" club on the Sunset Strip offers pretty much the same atmosphere as a less exclusive, run-of-the-mill club anywhere else: same bad music, same bad dancing, same overpriced drinks, same ex-frat boys pissing in the sinks. The "premium" here is (maybe) a pool, bigger tits, and firmer abs.
2. The number of palm trees in a neighborhood is directly proportional to the size of its average incomes.
3. In 'N Out Burger is just as good as Donny said it was.
4. If you dig classic one-screen theaters like I do, LA is the place for you. Many still have their original neon facades (or convincing replicas). The Mann Village and Mann Bruin here in Westwood still part the curtains at the beginning of every feature.
5. Mexican food isn't remarkably better out here, despite the fact that we stole the place from right under Santa Ana's mustache. You can get a glass of horchata just about anywhere, though. Hooray for horchata.
6. UCLA has one of the prettiest campuses in academia, but you wouldn't know if from their promotional materials.
7. Southeastern California is a preview of post-apocalyptic America: nothing but a vast swath of nothing. While trekking over from the East Coast, I almost ran out of gas somewhere between the Arizona border and Barstow. I swear to God, the first concern that ran through my head wasn't dehydration or having to hitch a ride with a sketchy trucker, but running into some mutant with a gimp on a leash driving a dune buggy.
8. Remember the little French girl from Saving Private Ryan? You know, the one who Vin Diesel saves and then wails on her father for being such a cowardly surrender monkey and leaving her to zee Germans? She isn't actually French.
9. Driving in LA is intense, but not Boston intense. While New England driving is a Hobbesian free-for-all wherein it's every douchebag for himself, LA driving is simply a cosmic test of willpower. LA drivers are just way too into their little urbanite bubbles to notice that they're holding up traffic. As such, a little assertiveness goes a long way. I still (almost) run into the occasional Hobbesian douchebag, but I'm pretty sure they're just other East Coast transplants.
10. The new primetime TV trend for 2007: rookie cop shows. You read it here first, folks.