This L.A. Life

I cannot believe that I ever used to utter the phrase, “I can’t stand L.A.” What. The. Fuck. I guess I simply didn’t know any better. I took my city for granted.  I mean, not that L.A. (like every other place on the planet) doesn’t have it’s faults. But in my youthful ignorance, I knew only that I was probably the only inhabitant of this city who disliked the weather (yeah. I’ll get to that) and along with everyone else I loathed the traffic.

The traffic of course is notorious in its fuckery.  I sometimes play a game where I wonder which freeway is worse, the 101 or the 405?  The SNL skits poking fun at the best routes to get around this city are infamous. It’s no bloody secret that the traffic is hell.  It always has been, apparently; even back in the day:


But my gripe with the weather is perhaps a bit more difficult for people to relate to.  See, I’m actually envious of New Yorkers because they have four, actual, different, seasons.  They have bloody winters which they all gripe about, but I mean, Christmastime and snow would be so cool to experience on the regular.  I’m fairly certain those who actually do experience this holiday cheer could give me countless reasons as to why they think I’m insane for wanting it. But whatever, to each their own.  They have beautiful, cherry blossom full springs, hot, muggy summers, and rich, colorful autumns.  I mean, seriously? It sounds like heaven.

Here in L.A., we basically have one long, endless summer. Which sounds like heaven to most people, but to me it’s monotonous and too fucking hot.  Variety is supposed to be the spice of life, no? So, if I could change one thing about my city, I guess I’d choose the traffic and weather. I know that’t technically two things, but they’re lumped together as far as I’m concerned.

At any rate, I never really appreciated how awesome a thing it is to be born and raised in the city of Angels until I grew up a bit more.  And began learning how to focus more on the positive. The sunshine. No matter how prevalent. The coast. The diversity.  Man. L.A. is a wondrous mix of every culture imaginable. The food (those who turn up their cosmetically altered noses at L.A. ‘s food game and who think we don’t hold our own in the culinary contest can, respectfully, sod off. Cheers!)

The fashion. Oh, lord, have mercy; the fashion in L.A. is on point.  One casual afternoon stroll (or roll) down Melrose is a free, dope af fashion show.  The history, which I’ve only just begun to delve in to, is somewhat fascinating. Did you know that the official date for the founding of the city was September 4, 1781?  September 4, Queen Bey’s birthday, because everything ties back to Beyoncé, of course (bow down bitches).


Los Angeles is also, of course, among the most (if not THE most) glamorous cities in the world. Because Hollywood. L.A. is a sexy city, man. Now, I have yet to visit every dope city in this world, however, on the humble brag, I’ve been quite lucky to visit a few:  Paris. London. Geneva. Venice. Florence. Rome. Heidelberg. Beirut. New York. Boston.  Hats off to most of these cities by the way, they are each wonderful in their own way, but a special shout out to New York, a very sexy city indeed.

Anyway, there are a few other places I’ve been to, but I’ve made my point, which is that Los Angeles is world renowned for a reason. Lots of them, really. This city is the shit.  Oh, and forgetting this past, truly fucked up season — the Los Angeles Lakers are the sexiest team in the world.  I realize that some flaky-ass fans wanna go and jump on the Clippers’ nuts, but fuck that. Nope. Not this Lakers fan.  And I don’t really follow any other sports, but shout out to the Dodgers (who of course originally hailed from Brooklyn, another dope-ass city) the Kings, and every other L.A. sports team.

I currently wear my L.A. baseball caps with pride; I’m L.A. Made — this city helped mold me.  Jay is L.A. Made too, as are the littles; our son and daughter.  I love this city, despite all that drives me mad about it.  People wish they were dope enough to be L.A. Made.  That’s how much swagger the City of Angels has.  And I barely touched upon how sexy this city’s inhabitants are. Crazy, beautiful people everywhere.

Angeltown, I love you. Now, queue the Randy Newman joint while we roll along PCH…