Oh, the shame!
So, those of you that know me know that I travel quite a bit for my job. Very quickly I learned that when I introduce myself to others, I would have to follow up with an oh-so-clever, "Don't hold it against me!!! Yuk-Yuk! Tee-Hee!" because it seems the truth is pretty much every other state thinks of Los Angelinos as insane, narcissistic, self-centered, flaky, phony, etc. Most likely they're right. I suppose it holds some truth.
Am I mistaken to think, however, that this perception generally is aimed towards the LA transplants who come here to "make it"? The ones who come here with full intention of "making it", whatever industry that happens to be (usually entertainment)? Are those the folks that end up possibly overcompensating and are the stereotypical Ray-Ban-donning asshat on his laptop in the Starbucks loudly professing over the mobile that he's "WORKING ON A SCREENPLAY BRAH!!!!!" so all the patrons can hear and be impressed and the hot 19-year-old blonde will drop her Frappucino Lite and start giving him a blow job right then and there?
Did these folks ruin our reputation? Or is it the LA natives that are, indeed, the fucked up ones with personality disorders?
It's a weird town. Fuck, California's just a completely screwed-up state.
I was lucky enough to somehow end up in a relatively underground, yet bustling, fun "glam rock resurgence for the 19th time" and played in a lot of fun, over-the-top, glammy-punky bands between the years 2004-2007. I think that was around the last time I felt any sort of gratefulness for being born here. At least the Strip was still sort of alive. NOTHING compared to its' decadent heyday between the 70's and 80's, naturally, but at least there was still some sort of "scene". Some sense of rock n' roll community.
At least in the rock n' roll world, between the death of Traci Michaelz and the final nail on the coffin with the Cat Club and now Key Club closing their doors, I just don't seem to venture out anymore much at all unless there's a very specific show or artist that's playing. Even then, I get highly irritated with just the fact that I have to drive out there. Listen, I drive literally thousands of miles in all sorts of cities all over the West - Seattle, Portland, countless miles of rural road, desolate North Dakota roads in pitch black night, and none of them hold a candle to giving me the sort of epic-level anxiety attacks that LA/Hollywood blesses me with.
Seriously, last few times I've driven out in that direction I've almost had panic attacks. And this is after driving once in NY and (god help me) Boston. So what is it?
So all these negatives are stacked up. The automobile/traffic panic attacks, the $17 parking, the $10 glasses of wine, the overzealous, 'roided-out security guards that bark at you to EXCUSE ME MA'AM WHAT I'M GONNA HAVE YOU DO FOR ME RIGHT NOW IS MOVE TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LINE 18 times while trying to watch the maybe one interesting band that somehow managed to even play in our retarded city...it's just not tempting. Or enjoyable.
I guess what I'm trying to get at is that living in LA is much like being in an abusive relationship. It kind of goes like this:
Me: "Oooh, cool. Saigon Kick's playing at the Viper Room!"
LA: "No matter what time you leave your Ventura County home, I'm going to make damn sure traffic is as hellish and horrible as possible. And that it takes you at least 2 hours to drive 32 miles. Have fun with that, you stupid cunt."
Me: "This traffic is fucking horrible. Oh, my god, that person next to me is swerving whilst eating an apple and playing an oboe. I'm going to die. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. I'm still 14 hours away and I haven't even hit the 405 yet."
LA: "Here, I'm sorry. I'll give you a little break. Have the traffic clear up just a teeny-tiny bit so you can at least feel like you're moving."
Me: "Oh, goodie. Look. We're moving! We're moving! Allright, maybe it'll only take 12 hours to get to the goddamn Viper Room. How lucky I am to live here."
The next day:
LA: "Wake up, sunshine. Look at what I provided you with. Beautiful, clear, comfortable, 72-degree-weather. You are minutes away from the beach. The mountains. Hours away from snow. Hours away from the weird desolate desert shithole called the Salton Sea you seem to love so much, if you're so inclined. Enjoy."
Me: "Oh, thank you, thank you, LA. You're so pretty. We're so lucky. I don't have to experience -30 weather that makes both my tits shrivel up into gerbil brains 'cuz it's so ungodly cold! *pinches face* Who's my favorite wil' city-witty?"
LA: "When you come back from enjoying Zuma, don't forget your $56,259,209,134 mortgage bill for your 900 square foot condo is due. God, you're a stupid bitch. You're my bitch."
So, yeah. It's basically like that.
So, I continue to hold my head in shame whenever I have to tell people that I'm from LA. Is there any other city where those at least with a shred of shame/dignity/whatever have to be so apologetic for? I don't think so. Look at people from anywhere else.
Boston guy: "Boston is the fucking best, bro. Hometown pride, all the way. I want to fellate every member of the Red Sox and will be glad to spend 5 hours of your life telling you our city's history. Boston, bitch. YEAH!"
New York guy: "You Californians are the most retarded motherfuckers on the planet. You try to make pizza *snorts*! Every Sunday I hump the Empire State Building to completion and will never even attempt that Atkins crap because our magical water magically makes our bagels and pizza crust into the equivalent of being soothed and caressed by a pink unicorn that'll let you float on a mystical rainbow with it and shits red velvet cupcakes and hooks you up to a libation-of-your-choice drip and then seven 22-year-old chicks will stop by and delicately fondle your nipples and balls."
Kyle, South Dakota guy: "Bitch, we got BUFFALO out here and it's fucking magnificent and my 45-thousand acre ranch costs me $23 a month."
That's basically how it is.
I guess I can sum it up by asking this: Before we attempt to be sort of cool and let the bars stay open until 4am, it might be a good idea to try to execute some sort of semi-useable public transportation system.
Oh, and it's also one of the most difficult states to stay vegetarian in, and one of the most overall uptight. Funny, how we're supposed to be all...um..."progressive" and shit.
Hugziez!
xoxo
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