The quintessential shot of Los Angeles from any television show or movie is the sun shining down on palm trees, their fronds swaying in the breeze, and craggy brown hillsides in the distance (perhaps even with the Hollywood sign). This is also maybe the easiest shot for a cinematographer to capture because nearly every day in LA is sunny, and the palm trees are ever-present.
As someone only mildly obsessed with meteorological phenomena, though, the weather here is more than a little boring. Rain just a handful of days every year (and then rarely for more than a few hours), June "gloom" that is about 6 straight weeks of grey skies in morning followed by warm, hazy sunshine in the afternoon and evening, and otherwise nothing but sunny skies that go on and on for months. It's enough to make even me forget that on a rare occasion I actually need to dress for the weather.
What is jarring is that, no matter the time of year, I generally only know what season it is by reading or watching the news. Yes, we get a couple chilly weeks in the winter where lows drop into the mid-40s, and in the summer we'll get weeks of 80 degree temperatures every day. But I see reports of a snowstorm, tornado outbreak, hurricane, or flash flood, and it all feels... foreign.
Chicago sees golfball-sized hail and 50-mph winds, and it's sunny and 75 here. Oklahoma City gets hit by a 2-mile-wide tornado, and it's 70 and sunny here. New York City gets slammed with a hurricane, and we're sitting in 80 degree sunshine. On the rare occasion that it rains here, we've usually had warning for days and the local news is bringing us regular updates on the rain, including man-on-the-street interviews (i.e. "how are you staying dry this morning?"). And that's only during the 5-month span when it actually *can* rain, as the rest of the year is dry season.
I suppose I shouldn't complain, but on some level I do miss weather. I imagine myself sipping a hot cocoa alongside a fireplace looking out over a snowy scene, or I picture a towering cloud swirling and rumbling overhead while I stand outside and wait for a cold rain to sweep in and push the warm humid air away. But rarely is it ever humid, almost never does it thunder, and the closest it gets to snowing is a picturesque winter scene of the 10,000-feet above sea level San Gabriel mountains in the distance after a cold rain.
Just some random thoughts I wanted to share and wondering what others have to say. Feel free to share in the comments!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Yeah, I really do like LA
I've been doing a lot of traveling the past couple weeks - including a couple visits to San Francisco, a bunch to Sacramento, and now in DC. It's been a whirlwind, and it's all quite rewarding in its own way. One thing, however, has been reinforced through a handful of random interactions, and I was just thinking about it after reading this post on LAist, which happens to be one of my primary sources of local news these days.
On all these travels, I've been noticing the reaction I get from folks when I tell them I'm from LA (or share with them information about how I feel about living here). Typically their responses range from "oh" (spoken as if I'd just told them that I was recently diagnosed with cancer) to "really??" (spoken as if I'd just said that it snowed in Phoenix... in July). On a rare occasion I'll get a positive response, but truly the difference for me could not be starker, particularly having lived for so long in San Francisco and having gotten such a different response whenever I shared that information with someone.
Honestly, whatever. I mean, I don't really care that lots of people don't like Los Angeles. I get it. There are days when you can see the air. And there are days when the traffic is maddening. And there are days when I just need a "pause" button to slow things down for a moment. It's a big and crazy city, and it's hard to really describe it in a way that I feel does it any justice. So I get why what are typically people's first impressions remain as their lasting, and sometimes only, impressions. They come once, stay a few days, find themselves driving around trying to hit what they think are the "must-do's" in LA, and they decide never to return.
What has changed my experience of LA into something truly exciting for me is, basically, giving it a chance. I'm not going to change the fact that the weather combined with people's driving proclivities sometimes makes for nasty air. That's part of living here. Not unlike those smelly, sticky days in the height of summer in NYC, or those chilly, brisk summer days in SF, or those biting, windy days in the depths of winter in Chicago.
Frankly, if there's anything that bugs me about people's impressions of LA, it's that they come across as lazy. Admittedly, I've been that person. And I now view it as lazy to complain about traffic, when, quite honestly, I've experienced just as bad (if not worse) traffic in numerous other cities. It's lazy to complain about air quality, when again that's something every American city has issues around, whether they'll own up to it or not. It's lazy to complain about things being spread out, when again this is true of nearly all American cities, with the rare exception being primarily a result of cities that are geographically constrained (i.e. on an island or shorefront or peninsula or isthmus). It's lazy to complain about the entertainment industry being superficial, when it's merely offering a product, not unlike how Seattle makes coffee, Houston makes oil, Detroit makes cars, and Miami makes people orange.
LA is funky, and I like it. The Los Angeles river isn't some great escape to nature, but it's odd and so reflective of how this city has grown up. Silverlake (where I now live) isn't at all the "SF of LA" that I've heard people say it is, but it's fun and full of unexpected wildlife (like owls, coyotes, raccoons, and a panoply of birds) and fun places to walk and cool restaurants. Yeah, there are definitely people here who are "plastic," and they'll own it rather than masquerading behind some facade of idealism. You can actually live here, with space and windows and sunlight, and not break your bank on rent or be forced to squish into a closet of an apartment, or have to give up the dream of owning a home, having a pet, or raising a family just because you want to be in a place you enjoy. There are TONS of neighborhoods, each with its own flavor; some are actually genuinely scary, others are over-the-top eccentric, and others are as vanilla as they come. There are lots of cool, interesting, good-hearted people here who care about doing right by themselves and others, and we're all in this funky fun place together.
So, yeah, it does sting a little for me when people complain about LA - in kinda the same way that, on a rare occasion, I got a sense from people that they looked down on SF, usually because they considered it to be too liberal for their tastes. That's just laziness.
I've also learned these past couple years not to judge others' choices to live wherever the heck they want to. I used to think it odd that someone might choose a Dallas or Boston or Chicago over San Francisco when I called the city by the bay my home, but now, whether or not I get it, I don't find myself feeling judgment around it. Different strokes for different folks.
Several people I've met in DC have said how much they like it here. Admittedly, I have my reasons for not liking DC very much, but rather than just cutting them off and stating my opinion, I've listened, and I've learned. Yeah, I may still have opinions about DC for years to come, but when I talk with people who have found something special in their home that keeps them choosing to stay, year after year, a few more of my lazy assumptions get chipped away. Now being the occasional recipient of others' disdain for my choice to live in a city so disliked by America, I've come to realize even more that we won't all agree on the choices each other makes, and that's a good thing.
So here I am, just past a year and a half in my new home, and I really do like LA. It no longer feels indulgent or funny to say that. I have myriad reasons to feel this way. And the most simple one is this: I feel at home here. I feel at home when the cool marine layer blows through the windows at night, or the sun warms the air in the morning. I feel at home when my boyfriend makes me some delectable dinner, or we walk up Sunset to catch a movie. I feel at home when our dog greets me at the door, impatiently clawing at me to greet him. I feel at home in my service of others through my professional work. I feel at home rocking a weekly trivia game, having fun with other singers in a local theatre, and organizing my neighborhood to make our streets cleaner.
I feel at home here. And, yeah, I really do like LA.
On all these travels, I've been noticing the reaction I get from folks when I tell them I'm from LA (or share with them information about how I feel about living here). Typically their responses range from "oh" (spoken as if I'd just told them that I was recently diagnosed with cancer) to "really??" (spoken as if I'd just said that it snowed in Phoenix... in July). On a rare occasion I'll get a positive response, but truly the difference for me could not be starker, particularly having lived for so long in San Francisco and having gotten such a different response whenever I shared that information with someone.
Honestly, whatever. I mean, I don't really care that lots of people don't like Los Angeles. I get it. There are days when you can see the air. And there are days when the traffic is maddening. And there are days when I just need a "pause" button to slow things down for a moment. It's a big and crazy city, and it's hard to really describe it in a way that I feel does it any justice. So I get why what are typically people's first impressions remain as their lasting, and sometimes only, impressions. They come once, stay a few days, find themselves driving around trying to hit what they think are the "must-do's" in LA, and they decide never to return.
What has changed my experience of LA into something truly exciting for me is, basically, giving it a chance. I'm not going to change the fact that the weather combined with people's driving proclivities sometimes makes for nasty air. That's part of living here. Not unlike those smelly, sticky days in the height of summer in NYC, or those chilly, brisk summer days in SF, or those biting, windy days in the depths of winter in Chicago.
Frankly, if there's anything that bugs me about people's impressions of LA, it's that they come across as lazy. Admittedly, I've been that person. And I now view it as lazy to complain about traffic, when, quite honestly, I've experienced just as bad (if not worse) traffic in numerous other cities. It's lazy to complain about air quality, when again that's something every American city has issues around, whether they'll own up to it or not. It's lazy to complain about things being spread out, when again this is true of nearly all American cities, with the rare exception being primarily a result of cities that are geographically constrained (i.e. on an island or shorefront or peninsula or isthmus). It's lazy to complain about the entertainment industry being superficial, when it's merely offering a product, not unlike how Seattle makes coffee, Houston makes oil, Detroit makes cars, and Miami makes people orange.
LA is funky, and I like it. The Los Angeles river isn't some great escape to nature, but it's odd and so reflective of how this city has grown up. Silverlake (where I now live) isn't at all the "SF of LA" that I've heard people say it is, but it's fun and full of unexpected wildlife (like owls, coyotes, raccoons, and a panoply of birds) and fun places to walk and cool restaurants. Yeah, there are definitely people here who are "plastic," and they'll own it rather than masquerading behind some facade of idealism. You can actually live here, with space and windows and sunlight, and not break your bank on rent or be forced to squish into a closet of an apartment, or have to give up the dream of owning a home, having a pet, or raising a family just because you want to be in a place you enjoy. There are TONS of neighborhoods, each with its own flavor; some are actually genuinely scary, others are over-the-top eccentric, and others are as vanilla as they come. There are lots of cool, interesting, good-hearted people here who care about doing right by themselves and others, and we're all in this funky fun place together.
So, yeah, it does sting a little for me when people complain about LA - in kinda the same way that, on a rare occasion, I got a sense from people that they looked down on SF, usually because they considered it to be too liberal for their tastes. That's just laziness.
I've also learned these past couple years not to judge others' choices to live wherever the heck they want to. I used to think it odd that someone might choose a Dallas or Boston or Chicago over San Francisco when I called the city by the bay my home, but now, whether or not I get it, I don't find myself feeling judgment around it. Different strokes for different folks.
Several people I've met in DC have said how much they like it here. Admittedly, I have my reasons for not liking DC very much, but rather than just cutting them off and stating my opinion, I've listened, and I've learned. Yeah, I may still have opinions about DC for years to come, but when I talk with people who have found something special in their home that keeps them choosing to stay, year after year, a few more of my lazy assumptions get chipped away. Now being the occasional recipient of others' disdain for my choice to live in a city so disliked by America, I've come to realize even more that we won't all agree on the choices each other makes, and that's a good thing.
So here I am, just past a year and a half in my new home, and I really do like LA. It no longer feels indulgent or funny to say that. I have myriad reasons to feel this way. And the most simple one is this: I feel at home here. I feel at home when the cool marine layer blows through the windows at night, or the sun warms the air in the morning. I feel at home when my boyfriend makes me some delectable dinner, or we walk up Sunset to catch a movie. I feel at home when our dog greets me at the door, impatiently clawing at me to greet him. I feel at home in my service of others through my professional work. I feel at home rocking a weekly trivia game, having fun with other singers in a local theatre, and organizing my neighborhood to make our streets cleaner.
I feel at home here. And, yeah, I really do like LA.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
One year... already?
It's hard to believe, but it was just over one year ago that I moved to Los Angeles. One year in, and here are a bunch of random observations that I wanted to share with y'all:
- Sunshine and warm 80% of the time isn't so bad after all.
- There are a lot of people here. A lot.
- I like being in a racially/ethnically/demographically mixed neighborhood - it feels more like an authentic American experience.
- Not sure why I feared driving, because now I love it.
- The Hollywood Bowl is hands down my favorite place to see a show.
- LA is a lot more densely populated than anyone gives it credit for - and yet it is still spread out just as much as everyone complains that it is.
- The majority of people are either working in "the entertainment business" or something connected to it.
- Any time of day, in any coffee shop anywhere in the city there will always be people buying coffee - where are they coming from? Don't they have jobs?
- There's tons of great places to hike all within a short distance.
- I can afford living here, and I don't feel perpetually stressed out about my finances or rent or any of that.
- Hosting trivia two nights a week is a bit tiring but a hell of a lot of fun.
- I've made some great friends in the first year.
- Moving here is one of the best decisions I've ever made.
- It's both unsettling and kinda revealing to be surrounded by so many pretty people.
- I don't speak Spanish.
- I love showing my new home to friends - especially friends who have bad experiences of this city before coming to visit (this is true of many people, go figure).
- I've seen a few celebrities out and about, but far fewer than one would expect given that I live in Hollywood.
- The Hollywood sign is fun to look at - a great way to orient myself to where I am.
- I love my boyfriend.
- It's great having my own kitchen, especially since I love baking cookies.
- Putt putt golfing on an 85 degree day for my mid-January birthday is quite fun.
- I hate helicopters.
- I really hate smog - something I see far more often than I'd like and far less often than I expected.
- There are a lot of trees.
- Palm trees are like living fireworks, but their detritus is far more dangerous.
- People are very upbeat - perhaps it's the sunshine?
Monday, July 4, 2011
4th of July
I just celebrated my first Fourth of July as an Angeleno, and I had a blast. We spent all afternoon and evening on my boyfriend's apartment's rooftop "deck," with many friends, some of whom I've only met in the past couple months and some I've known for years. The weather was lovely (if a bit roasty toasty at points), and the view of fireworks after sunset was pretty amazing.
I want to say a few things about the new friends I'm making in Los Angeles. Part of a place feeling like a home are those people who reflect back to you the kind of person you are in that moment. And, if my friends are a reflection of me in this moment, then I am some kind of sassy, un-PC, playful SOB. A few times today I remarked on how my boyfriend, in particular, has corrupted me. The truth is, he is helping me to let go... of needing to be right, of needing to be uber-political, of needing to always see things globally (to the detriment of dealing with shit right at home).
And now the people who I'm blessed to consider friends are just accelerating that experience. It's an experience that I am loving, to the point where I think nothing of making the food and helping set up a whole day's party for everyone's enjoyment, because I am having so much fun.
This all isn't to say that LA has the corner on cool people to hang out with. Not at all. It's more that I am just having fun in a way that I haven't really had fun before, and that opens me up to making new friends who I might not have before and doing new things that I would not have considered before. It's a place I'm very happy to be.
Not much else to say at the moment - just wanted to share a quick couple thoughts after a really enjoyable 4th of July. Happy Independence Day!
I want to say a few things about the new friends I'm making in Los Angeles. Part of a place feeling like a home are those people who reflect back to you the kind of person you are in that moment. And, if my friends are a reflection of me in this moment, then I am some kind of sassy, un-PC, playful SOB. A few times today I remarked on how my boyfriend, in particular, has corrupted me. The truth is, he is helping me to let go... of needing to be right, of needing to be uber-political, of needing to always see things globally (to the detriment of dealing with shit right at home).
And now the people who I'm blessed to consider friends are just accelerating that experience. It's an experience that I am loving, to the point where I think nothing of making the food and helping set up a whole day's party for everyone's enjoyment, because I am having so much fun.
This all isn't to say that LA has the corner on cool people to hang out with. Not at all. It's more that I am just having fun in a way that I haven't really had fun before, and that opens me up to making new friends who I might not have before and doing new things that I would not have considered before. It's a place I'm very happy to be.
Not much else to say at the moment - just wanted to share a quick couple thoughts after a really enjoyable 4th of July. Happy Independence Day!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Home, sick
Not feeling too well today, and since I have a little time to relax at home, I thought what better to do than to blog? hahaha.
It's been over a month since I said anything on these pages, and a lot has happened in that time. My job has turned up its intensity a notch, which I am really enjoying. The boyfriend and I got a couple weekends to do boyfriend-y stuff, like going on a spa date, watching movies together, and seeing Kylie Minogue at the Hollywood Bowl. We've made some new friends who we are really enjoying getting to hang out with. I'm hosting pub trivia once a week at a local watering hole. The weather has pretty much not changed - still mid-70s and sunny about 90% of the time. And, all things considered, I'm feeling pretty good. :-)
That said, the other night I just felt stressed out. I couldn't sleep, I was having nightmares when I did sleep, and I was starting to come down with something (which is keeping me home today). And I realized something that hadn't really sunk in intrinsically the way that I've understood it intellectually for some time.
I've been going through a lot of change this past year.
I left the city I'd called home for ten years. I moved to a new city that, up until about a year before I'd moved, I hadn't even contemplated as a place I could find myself living. I left a job and did consulting work for some time to support myself. I started a new job that has challenged and supported me in new ways. My relationship is in a completely different (and even better) place now than when it was long-distance. I'm making new friends. I'm adjusting to a totally different way of life and interaction with my community (less political, more playful).
These are just the topline adjustments that come to mind, and underneath each of them is a series of smaller, and still impactful, changes that have weighed on me and also given me whole new insights into things.
A lot has happened in just nine months, and, frankly, I'm really happy about it. That doesn't mean that I don't feel stressed out at times or go through difficult moments. If anything, if it weren't stressful on some level then one could reasonably question whether it was really challenging me in any way.
It's been over a month since I said anything on these pages, and a lot has happened in that time. My job has turned up its intensity a notch, which I am really enjoying. The boyfriend and I got a couple weekends to do boyfriend-y stuff, like going on a spa date, watching movies together, and seeing Kylie Minogue at the Hollywood Bowl. We've made some new friends who we are really enjoying getting to hang out with. I'm hosting pub trivia once a week at a local watering hole. The weather has pretty much not changed - still mid-70s and sunny about 90% of the time. And, all things considered, I'm feeling pretty good. :-)
That said, the other night I just felt stressed out. I couldn't sleep, I was having nightmares when I did sleep, and I was starting to come down with something (which is keeping me home today). And I realized something that hadn't really sunk in intrinsically the way that I've understood it intellectually for some time.
I've been going through a lot of change this past year.
I left the city I'd called home for ten years. I moved to a new city that, up until about a year before I'd moved, I hadn't even contemplated as a place I could find myself living. I left a job and did consulting work for some time to support myself. I started a new job that has challenged and supported me in new ways. My relationship is in a completely different (and even better) place now than when it was long-distance. I'm making new friends. I'm adjusting to a totally different way of life and interaction with my community (less political, more playful).
These are just the topline adjustments that come to mind, and underneath each of them is a series of smaller, and still impactful, changes that have weighed on me and also given me whole new insights into things.
A lot has happened in just nine months, and, frankly, I'm really happy about it. That doesn't mean that I don't feel stressed out at times or go through difficult moments. If anything, if it weren't stressful on some level then one could reasonably question whether it was really challenging me in any way.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Nobody Walks in LA! (because they drive instead)
Okay okay... the title exaggerates this notion quite a bit, but there is definitely truth in it.
When I moved here last September, I was thrilled to be in a neighborhood that's walkable. And within .5 to .75 mile from my apartment I have just about everything I could want - grocery shopping, restaurants, lots of retail, a movie theater, my gym, a train station, etc. etc. So, from the technical standpoint of walkability, I'm doing quite well for the average Angeleno.
That said, the other night my boyfriend and I were having dinner with some new friends, and a couple of us concurred that, despite opportunities to walk here and there (for some more than others), it's just not that fun to walk in LA. Why? Because Los Angeles is built for cars, not pedestrians. Many of the sidewalks are narrow and located close to fast-moving traffic, things are spread out so you gotta walk farther (than in your average city), and the majority of intersections require that you push a button to get a signal to cross the street (or else risk getting a ticket for jaywalking... or risk getting run over). On the flipside, the roads are wide; the standard speed limit on most thoroughfares is 35 mph (which is pretty high considering it's an urban environment); the grid pattern makes it easy to find alternatives if one road isn't moving well; and there's generally cheap or free parking almost anywhere you go (although often you gotta know the "tricks" to finding it).
The typical "progressive" response to a city built around the car like LA is to pooh-pooh it. Like it's the devil's spawn and not worth even considering as a viable place to live. Okay, I get it. I couldn't wait to move out of car-centric Detroit when I was growing up, and now I find myself in a place that epitomizes America's obsession with four wheels. But it is what it is. I'm not responsible today for the decisions urban planners made decades ago to tear up the light rail and replace it with tar and paint.
And there's lots of people who are trying to change this. LA's current metro subway system, being what it is, is just over 20 years old, with some of the newer lines just around a decade old. Efforts to add bike lines and "sharrows" around town are moving along, but slowly. Redevelopment of neighborhoods like mine to make them more walkable and pedestrian-friendly is slowly changing the face of a city defined by the automobile.
It all takes time though... Just because you lay down a train line that can whisk people downtown past miles of backed-up traffic doesn't mean people will flock to it. A, they may not know where it starts or ends; B, it's a cultural shift they need to make to get out of their cars; and C, until land use patterns change as well, trains aren't going to just become popular on their own.
Think about the great train cities... London, Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, New York, Chicago... perhaps the most important factor in all of those cities is the age of their train systems. For many of them, they built their train lines at the same time that their cities were growing out to where the trains went. Secondly, and almost as importantly, their trains go directly to major places where people want to be. In London there's dozens of places, but certainly Picadilly Circus, Westminster, and Heathrow Airport come to mind; in New York there's Times Square and Wall Street; in Chicago it's the Loop and O'Hare Airport. If a train system doesn't take people to a major hub of activity, it's gonna struggle.
And in LA, in a city that grew up around the very notion that people can drive from wherever to wherever on their own, in which there's little concentration of jobs or housing in any particular location (not even, really, in downtown), it's very near impossible to develop a train system that'll get people anywhere they want to be consistently and for multiple purposes. Sure, when my boyfriend and I want to go downtown for an evening event, we'll take the subway, but when I'm going to work, I have little choice but to drive. If my work was located downtown, then I'd take the train. But it isn't, and it's nowhere near a train station, which is true for most Angelenos' jobs and/or housing. The very fact that I live within a half-mile of an LA Metro station actually puts me in the minority of Angelenos.
Changing this takes time. In my neighborhood, the Hollywood/Vine subway station is located in a great spot, and there's some good new development that has sprung up around it - but it isn't enough to make that particular station very successful. Instead of several blocks around the station being filled with housing/retail/etc, there are a few blocks with some development and some blocks with surface parking lots. And I guarantee you that if someone can park relatively cheaply at a location rather than navigate the train system, they'll drive 99 times out of 100 rather than take the subway.
So can this ever change? Certainly. But unlike the kind of outcomes we see in New York, London, Paris, etc., Los Angeles has a tougher road to take, so to speak. The city is built out already, land is expensive, and ingrained cultural norms trend strongly toward driving over alternative transportation methods. If LA ever were to become the walkable/transit "nirvana" of places like the aforementioned cities, it would probably take ten times more effort to get it done here than it ever did in any of those other places. Not that it didn't take lots of effort elsewhere, but the barriers here are so overwhelming that it seems near impossible that it would ever change.
I wish LA was more walkable. What with gorgeous weather 95% of the time, fairly flat topography, and so many interesting neighborhoods and cultural institutions, it has all the ingredients to be more walkable right now. I'm just not sure that that's something I'm going to see in my lifetime, or if it's even possible to do.
What do you think?
When I moved here last September, I was thrilled to be in a neighborhood that's walkable. And within .5 to .75 mile from my apartment I have just about everything I could want - grocery shopping, restaurants, lots of retail, a movie theater, my gym, a train station, etc. etc. So, from the technical standpoint of walkability, I'm doing quite well for the average Angeleno.
That said, the other night my boyfriend and I were having dinner with some new friends, and a couple of us concurred that, despite opportunities to walk here and there (for some more than others), it's just not that fun to walk in LA. Why? Because Los Angeles is built for cars, not pedestrians. Many of the sidewalks are narrow and located close to fast-moving traffic, things are spread out so you gotta walk farther (than in your average city), and the majority of intersections require that you push a button to get a signal to cross the street (or else risk getting a ticket for jaywalking... or risk getting run over). On the flipside, the roads are wide; the standard speed limit on most thoroughfares is 35 mph (which is pretty high considering it's an urban environment); the grid pattern makes it easy to find alternatives if one road isn't moving well; and there's generally cheap or free parking almost anywhere you go (although often you gotta know the "tricks" to finding it).
The typical "progressive" response to a city built around the car like LA is to pooh-pooh it. Like it's the devil's spawn and not worth even considering as a viable place to live. Okay, I get it. I couldn't wait to move out of car-centric Detroit when I was growing up, and now I find myself in a place that epitomizes America's obsession with four wheels. But it is what it is. I'm not responsible today for the decisions urban planners made decades ago to tear up the light rail and replace it with tar and paint.
And there's lots of people who are trying to change this. LA's current metro subway system, being what it is, is just over 20 years old, with some of the newer lines just around a decade old. Efforts to add bike lines and "sharrows" around town are moving along, but slowly. Redevelopment of neighborhoods like mine to make them more walkable and pedestrian-friendly is slowly changing the face of a city defined by the automobile.
It all takes time though... Just because you lay down a train line that can whisk people downtown past miles of backed-up traffic doesn't mean people will flock to it. A, they may not know where it starts or ends; B, it's a cultural shift they need to make to get out of their cars; and C, until land use patterns change as well, trains aren't going to just become popular on their own.
Think about the great train cities... London, Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, New York, Chicago... perhaps the most important factor in all of those cities is the age of their train systems. For many of them, they built their train lines at the same time that their cities were growing out to where the trains went. Secondly, and almost as importantly, their trains go directly to major places where people want to be. In London there's dozens of places, but certainly Picadilly Circus, Westminster, and Heathrow Airport come to mind; in New York there's Times Square and Wall Street; in Chicago it's the Loop and O'Hare Airport. If a train system doesn't take people to a major hub of activity, it's gonna struggle.
And in LA, in a city that grew up around the very notion that people can drive from wherever to wherever on their own, in which there's little concentration of jobs or housing in any particular location (not even, really, in downtown), it's very near impossible to develop a train system that'll get people anywhere they want to be consistently and for multiple purposes. Sure, when my boyfriend and I want to go downtown for an evening event, we'll take the subway, but when I'm going to work, I have little choice but to drive. If my work was located downtown, then I'd take the train. But it isn't, and it's nowhere near a train station, which is true for most Angelenos' jobs and/or housing. The very fact that I live within a half-mile of an LA Metro station actually puts me in the minority of Angelenos.
Changing this takes time. In my neighborhood, the Hollywood/Vine subway station is located in a great spot, and there's some good new development that has sprung up around it - but it isn't enough to make that particular station very successful. Instead of several blocks around the station being filled with housing/retail/etc, there are a few blocks with some development and some blocks with surface parking lots. And I guarantee you that if someone can park relatively cheaply at a location rather than navigate the train system, they'll drive 99 times out of 100 rather than take the subway.
So can this ever change? Certainly. But unlike the kind of outcomes we see in New York, London, Paris, etc., Los Angeles has a tougher road to take, so to speak. The city is built out already, land is expensive, and ingrained cultural norms trend strongly toward driving over alternative transportation methods. If LA ever were to become the walkable/transit "nirvana" of places like the aforementioned cities, it would probably take ten times more effort to get it done here than it ever did in any of those other places. Not that it didn't take lots of effort elsewhere, but the barriers here are so overwhelming that it seems near impossible that it would ever change.
I wish LA was more walkable. What with gorgeous weather 95% of the time, fairly flat topography, and so many interesting neighborhoods and cultural institutions, it has all the ingredients to be more walkable right now. I'm just not sure that that's something I'm going to see in my lifetime, or if it's even possible to do.
What do you think?
Saturday, April 16, 2011
75 degrees Fahrenheit: The perfect human temperature?
I read somewhere in a book years ago that the temperature in heaven is always 75 degrees Fahrenheit. I won't reveal the book in which that information appeared cuz it's kinda embarrassing. Suffice to say that this particular "factoid" is about the only thing I remember from the entire book - and that's probably a good thing.
But I guess it means I got to experience a little slice of heaven today, as I strolled up Vine Street to grab a bite to eat. It was 77 degrees outside, with a light breeze blowing, after a day in which the mercury climbed up to almost 90 degrees. I had on my flip flops and shorts and a light t-shirt and felt content. Had it not been for my desire to get back home with my meal, I would have liked to spend more time outside (note to self: next time go to Waffle and eat outside). It was not so hot that I felt sweaty or uncomfortable, and not too cool to the point where I'd want to switch to pants or a heavier t-shirt.
The other day, my friend Corey commented to me that 75 is the "perfect human temperature," and after today I'm reminded that I agree with her. Sure, I love snow, and I also like hot days where you can sit on the beach all day, but somehow 75 just feels "perfect." Is that wrong of me to like it so d*mn much?
Oh, and for all my non-LA friends who may be wondering, yes I'm officially a weather "wimp." When the mercury dips below 60, I now shiver, like somehow I'm cold. Really Luke? Cold at 60? Maybe. That will probably have to go down as one of those unanswerable questions. What I do know is that the range of temperatures in LA (usually between 55 and 70 in the winter and usually between 60 and 85 in the summer) suits me just fine.
But I do miss thunderstorms.
But I guess it means I got to experience a little slice of heaven today, as I strolled up Vine Street to grab a bite to eat. It was 77 degrees outside, with a light breeze blowing, after a day in which the mercury climbed up to almost 90 degrees. I had on my flip flops and shorts and a light t-shirt and felt content. Had it not been for my desire to get back home with my meal, I would have liked to spend more time outside (note to self: next time go to Waffle and eat outside). It was not so hot that I felt sweaty or uncomfortable, and not too cool to the point where I'd want to switch to pants or a heavier t-shirt.
The other day, my friend Corey commented to me that 75 is the "perfect human temperature," and after today I'm reminded that I agree with her. Sure, I love snow, and I also like hot days where you can sit on the beach all day, but somehow 75 just feels "perfect." Is that wrong of me to like it so d*mn much?
Oh, and for all my non-LA friends who may be wondering, yes I'm officially a weather "wimp." When the mercury dips below 60, I now shiver, like somehow I'm cold. Really Luke? Cold at 60? Maybe. That will probably have to go down as one of those unanswerable questions. What I do know is that the range of temperatures in LA (usually between 55 and 70 in the winter and usually between 60 and 85 in the summer) suits me just fine.
But I do miss thunderstorms.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)