Life of Wry

I drove Jay to Union Station in downtown LA today.  The drive was unexpectedly fun.  We opened the windows, cranked up the music and it felt like 40 years ago.  Roundabout came on and I could smell high school.  Between us, we pretty much knew all the songs, artists, lyrics, famous bass players (Jay’s territory).  Familiar and comfortable… dated, but Just. So. Fun.

Union Station is beautiful. Glad I took the time to walk around.  Really liked driving among the people, art and new (to me) buildings in downtown, too.

After I left him at the station, I drove back south on the 110, west on the 10, north on the 405 and got off on Sunset to meet Kath at that cylindrical hotel with the restaurant on top and the killer view of West LA.

After lunch, I went back out to the beach, joined Betsy and we spent a couple of hours wandering around Hollywood Riviera.  On a couple of whims, we ended up getting massages at one of those $25/hr reflexology places, and got our nails done.  Really.  On a Wednesday, while everyone else was doing real Wednesday things.

Anyway, LA has its charms.  Coming back, I see how human and multi-cultural it is, and like it.  I love the beach cities and certainly don’t mind the weather in January.

I have to say, I feel both at home and in a foreign land.  I walk and drive around in a contradictory state–a tourist who owns the place.  It’s not my home, but my roots are here.  I’m grateful to be a northern Californian, but the southland is in me, lodged deep and remains familiar.  It’s like hearing old rock songs… really fun to relive, but has a nice place in the past.