Written by Chad Taylor. Originally appeared on the Culture Myth website on March 23, 2016.
There are people who feel that Los Angeles is a city you know about right away: you pull in, and immediately know in your gut if you're going to love it or hate it. Conversely, I've heard that LA is so big, so diverse, that you really need to spend a couple of years submerged in it before you really have a handle on how you feel about it.
For me, as the most superficial of interlopers into the greater LA biosphere, I can say that it seems very much to be a place with a purpose. Not so much a city, as a tool. As such, I can understand why some people live here. If you're involved in entertainment in just about any way, LA is where you have to be. So for actors and screenwriters and directors and media types, I get it. I can see why people are here. What I haven't figured out quite yet, is why people would WANT to live here, all things being equal. The greater allure of the city, outside of the entertainment industry, has so far eluded me.
There's a shabbiness to LA. Part of that is affected. Shabby-chic is a definite way of life here. But another portion--I'd wager the greater portion--is just how the city has become. It looks tired. The people and their cars are all very shiny and well maintained and beautiful. But the city around them, the set upon which everyone plies their trade, is worn and frayed at the edges. You can see it in the trees and on the faces of buildings. A lot of it is unquestionably the fault of this great drought that is ravaging much of the American west, and hitting California particularly hard. But it's not the only explanation, because there is a general weariness that you can feel in the spirit of the place. I don't know if I've seen more than a handful of genuine expressions of emotion or desire in my time here.
There are people who feel that Los Angeles is a city you know about right away: you pull in, and immediately know in your gut if you're going to love it or hate it. Conversely, I've heard that LA is so big, so diverse, that you really need to spend a couple of years submerged in it before you really have a handle on how you feel about it.
For me, as the most superficial of interlopers into the greater LA biosphere, I can say that it seems very much to be a place with a purpose. Not so much a city, as a tool. As such, I can understand why some people live here. If you're involved in entertainment in just about any way, LA is where you have to be. So for actors and screenwriters and directors and media types, I get it. I can see why people are here. What I haven't figured out quite yet, is why people would WANT to live here, all things being equal. The greater allure of the city, outside of the entertainment industry, has so far eluded me.
There's a shabbiness to LA. Part of that is affected. Shabby-chic is a definite way of life here. But another portion--I'd wager the greater portion--is just how the city has become. It looks tired. The people and their cars are all very shiny and well maintained and beautiful. But the city around them, the set upon which everyone plies their trade, is worn and frayed at the edges. You can see it in the trees and on the faces of buildings. A lot of it is unquestionably the fault of this great drought that is ravaging much of the American west, and hitting California particularly hard. But it's not the only explanation, because there is a general weariness that you can feel in the spirit of the place. I don't know if I've seen more than a handful of genuine expressions of emotion or desire in my time here.
