#29--A Trip to Southern California and other yadda.

I’m writing this entry from Southern California, Santa Monica to be exact, where I’ve been for a little less than a week. I came out here in search of sun (good Lord is the Midwest dreary at this time of year!) and found some, though it hasn’t been hot which would have made me happy because I have very cute hot weather shoes and my toenails are done. Nevertheless, it’s lovely here. And my toenails can hold out for May and June. Still, hot woulda been nice.

We (me and friend Kim) rented a small cottage off of VRBO (http://www.vrbo.com/88630) which has been delightful. The owner, Deirdre, has something of a compound: two houses and a studio apartment on an over sized plot in a lovely neighborhood in Santa Monica, about six blocks up from the beach. Right now I’m writing in the lovely garden. And she has two lovely dogs, Hannah and Mickey, who I especially like. Lovely. Yes. Everything was lovely (past tense now because I'm leaving early in the morning).

This is my first time in Santa Monica and only my second time in the LA area. I like this time MUCH better. The first time I was visiting my friend Ava and we seemed only to be driving around LA’s vast labyrinth of freeways--the entire time! This time, Kim and I are just sort of bumping along Santa Monica on foot. No traffic. No hassle.

So far I’ve had a small Korean woman walk on my back and knead her high-arched feet all along my body, a man with his very beautiful and very young wife stop us to ask us if he was a catch, to which I absolutely agreed by holding up both thumbs, listened to the better part of John Edgar Wideman’s newest collection of short stories (See here) be read by some very yummy actors among whom was Gary Dourdan (and can I just say, as you can see in the photo, that: Holy smokes, some things just aren’t right and that some men are just too pretty for words!), watched a little boy dressed in a gold super hero costume complete with black mask and thunderbolt strut up and down the boardwalk, and had a woman who looked and behaved very normally sit next to me on the bench for ten minutes before turning to me to say very quietly, “I’m hungry.”

It’s been an interesting couple of days for sure.
Mostly, I’ve been thinking about how different we are in the United States of America. That is say: coming here on the heels of being in Michigan and Indiana definitely highlights how different people’s lives are. This is pretty, svelte, slightly urban, full of beautiful trees and even prettier vegetation, folks seem easy-breezy, there’s so much wealth here even the Prius (or Prii, if you prefer) are being pimped out. We saw a black on black with black rims and a spoiler of sorts driving around Santa Monica and it looked gooooood! Meanwhile, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many bentley coupes, mercedes, bmws, etc. Actually, I could easily argue that there’s a direct analogy: I see as many benzes here as I do cars that are held together by duct tape in Detroit. And that’s no lie.

That is to say: it’s no wonder there’s such a divide in the way people think and talk about politics in this country (click here to read Bob Herbert's excellent editorial on the political discourse of the day). One need only look at Detroit and Santa Monica to see very clearly that there are two Americas at play. That’s what I’ve been thinking about; how it is that Sarah Palin, for example, appeals to so many people, who those people are, how easily they are dismissed by those of us who claim to be more informed, be smarter, kinder, wiser, etc... (interesting study on this). It’s only to suggest that it’s a mistake to think that Portland or Santa Monica or even LA or Chicago or Madison or Austin in any way represent the kind of American experience most folks are having. I think it’s a dangerous assumption and one I’m trying to stop making. For real.

Anyway, here’s what else I know:

1. If you ever go to The Counter in Santa Monica (a burger joint): DO NOT be greedy and order the 2/3lb burger. It’s ridiculous and impossible. Really.

2. If you’re ever in LA and able to get to a cuban joint called Versailles, go. Order the chicken. And if you can, pick up a bottle of sauce for me. This stuff is so good it’s obscene and made me want to inappropriately kiss the waiter.

3. The canal streets in Venice are sweet. But Venice sucks. Yuck. Yuck. Double yuck. Think ratty kitsch
in a sunny place.

4. For a place so sunny, they don’t make walking in Southern California easy. All the sidewalks are for people with really small feet, evidently, and smaller behinds. I managed, but barely.

5. Don’t count on me to update this blog. You know how bad I am. But I’ll try harder. I promise. Really.

6. Look for some of my new work (on April 1st) in an online deal at connotationpress

7. I did an hour-long interview with Emily Harris of Oregon Public Broadcasting. Folks said I didn't sound like a horses ass.

8. Girls with long feet who like shoes should go to barefoottess.com:




Okay. That’s quite enough from me for now.

Sending love,
C