are currently Leaving LA
Pompus Pavillion Patrons
Places I miss in LA
First Letter Home
Tales from the Holler
My first letter home
Anywho, it’s been a while since my last email
from L.A. which seems like a combination of yesterday and a century
ago-- I think I’ll coin a new word “yestury (n;) the
confusing feeling of time fleeing to slowly or to quickly at the
same time”. Boy, what a remarkable 30 days here in West Virginee.
I arrived at the Pittsburgh airport where our dear friend Max whisked
me away to the hollars. It was hot and humid and my skin was steaming.
However, I had just spent 60 bucks to get my face steamed a month
prior so as a lover of a good bargain, I quietly calculated all
the money I was going to save by the weather conditions living here.
Glen Ivy be damned at this point*.
The drive to my new home was breathtaking. In the past, after a
stressful day at work I would tack on at least an extra 35 –
60 minutes of my commute to drive through Outpost on to Mullholland
or Kanan to PCH to Topanga in search of that perfect canopy of trees
that sheltered the road (Outpost still remains #1 in LA for me).
My mini van and I would meander aimlessly on these roads wondering
what it would be like to live near them. Well, August 3, I arrived
to exactly what I had been searching for…that winding road
through the canopy of trees that leads to my new home. This time,
not only do I have the canopy but a kaleidoscope of wildflowers
edging the sides. The brilliant blue and periwinkle, buttercup yellow
and goldenrod, fiery red and orange flowers are everywhere. If this
were California, wow, I would subdivide this place build a billion
McMansions and call it a frickin’ pay day.
One night I sat quietly on my new porch and watched the billions
and billions of stars (I sure wish I could get Carl Sagan’s
voice out of my head right now) which I hadn’t had a glimpse
of since the power outage after the Northridge quake. At that moment,
I wondered what the heck took me so long to leave LA? Granted, perhaps
it was the thought that I would be moving to West Virginia, not
Connecticut or Vermont or New York or even Rhode Island for christ
sake. But you know what, aside from West Virginia’s bad wrap
that Abercrombie and Fitch and many others seem to perpetuate ad
nauseam, this place is truly a magnificent natural wonder.
I apologize for reaching out to you collectively not individually.
I miss you all err, I mean, I miss yawl. For the record it’s
to my surprise that I do not miss Southern California*- -- yet.
*I reserve the right at anytime to change my opinion on this current
not the heat it's the Humidity!
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