So I was born and raised in New York City and I am a bit snobby about it. It is my ONE claim to fame that I did not have to achieve on my own. Being from manhattan is my version of having a rich or famous parent. It is my tiny silver spoon that I can use as defensive armor. I was born here, not a tourist or a wanna be, I am a fucking native.
I know, I know, I have written poetic love stories about the new york of the 70’s, going to Max’s Kansas City at 13 years old, drinking in bars in my early teens when no one in the entire city gave a shit about the legal age. I wrote about seeing all the great new york punk bands live, and seeing them on the streets, seeing the waxy Jim Carroll in my old neighborhood. I‘ve written about being from the last great generation of working class New Yorkers with heavy accents that were formed from our immigrant parents or grandparents, and the way they spoke when they got here from there. Yes, another of my armors, less of a silver spoon, but still a medal of honor- the street cred that we were not the rich New Yorkers, but the real deal. I am the daughter of working class first generation Americans. I had nothing, and got nothing, but I reinvented myself in this beautiful town- so there, motherfuckers! Blab bla bla….
Anyway, its all great, I love my history.
And then I moved to this sunny land of easy living where you can ultimately live the American dream in a mid century modern house with a pool. And, yes it is true, I too hope to own a Neutra one day.
Well, I must confess, I thought I would grow old and die in my rent stabilized new york city one bed room. I had no intention of coming to Los Angeles. I came for love, willing to try it out for a bit and I have now been here one month shy of 10 years! I love Los Angeles! I love New York too. I am thrilled to go home a few times a year. I hate being away from my family and missing the birthdays and the graduations and the funerals, where we all come together. I miss walking down certain streets, and eating in certain restaurants. I miss the people, although so many of them have left. I do not miss the bankruptcy of the heart of my hometown, but I miss the secrets and the underground and the classics and the beauty.
But I live in Los Angeles now and will for many more years. I love Los Angeles. I love leaning out my kitchen window to pick and orange to eat with lunch. I love having a car that I was forced to learn how to drive. I love the sunny sunny days. I adore the rainy season. I love not having any attachment to being a native. And I love going home for the holidays and getting a taste of winter, short and sweet, and then coming back and getting warm, having a swim, wearing bear legs and a cotton dress and putting sunscreen on my daughter.
somebody told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair...