Not My Fault

For all of you flat-landers that is a picture of the San Andreas Fault, upon which I am resting tonight and which I have crossed and will recross several more times in the next 24 hours. I am putting all of that L.A. nonsense behind me as I have passed through the maws of the City of Angles and am now firmly pointed towards the City by the Bay.

I will say as my final word on L.A. 2010 - - - I was right. I spent many happy and productive years in the South Bay of Los Angeles but of all the places I have lived, this is clearly the one I cannot go home to. I felt out of touch and out of spirit both anticipating and actualizing the L.A. experience. I now remember feeling the same the several previous times I have been back since my move from Hermosa Beach to San Francisco in 1991.

Ah well, what's the loss of one megalopolis when there are so many. Besides we will be making the movie in Las Vegas not on a back lot in Burbank. So what's one little monster from L.A. amidst all the splendor that has been this journey so far. A few more days and I can unpack somewhere with a view of the Bay. And... I will turn my attention to posts with a bit more heft as some have requested; enough of this wallowing in the muck and mire of decades past.

You know... now that I ponder the lay of the land, maybe it is My fault.

Welcome to L.A.

I have written before about the strange, quirky and upsetting film "Welcome to L.A.". My review and recommendation remains the same:

The most profoundly affecting movie I have ever experienced. This is not a recommendation, as most people who have seen it, really hate it. But I had a unique experience with this film and it has stayed with me for thirty years. Cast includes: Sissy Spacek, Keith Carradine, Sally Kellerman, Geraldine Chaplin, Harvey Keitel, Lauren Hutton, Richard Baskin and Denver Pyle. Robert Altman produced the film.

I am, however, seeing some connections to my current push/pull around visiting the City of Angels. I have delayed twice now and have finally decided to skip into the souther suburbs tomorrow for a lunch with old friends and a dinner with Audrey. Whether I last a full 24 hours or not remains to be seen.

There are a couple of story threads I really want to brush by to get the particulars smoothed out. But I would not be surprised if my next blog posts from somewhere north of the San Fernando Valley.

My left hand says get out of there,

My right says it doesn't matter anymore.

There Must Be Someway Out of Here

Confusion is the inability to think with your usual speed or clarity, including feeling disoriented and having difficulty paying attention, remembering, and making decisions; at least I think that's what it is.

Lady you bereft me of all words,

Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,

And there is such confusion in my powers.

- Shakespeare

The mystic purchases a moment of exhilaration with a lifetime of confusion; and the confusion is infectious and destructive. It is confusing and destructive to try and explain anything in terms of anything else, poetry in terms of psychology. - Basil Bunting

I'm not confused, I'm just well mixed. - Robert Frost

I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks. - Daniel Boone

Can't Go Home Again. Yes you can! No you can't!!

"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory." - Thomas Wolfe

I find myself in a strange, even uncomfortable place as I near the end of my journey. I have been "home" to Michigan (1948-1975 & 2000-2006) with no discomfort. I have seen family in new and old places and many friends in towns and cities throughout the country, all with relative ease and comfort. But as I approach Los Angeles my home for many years (1975-1991), I find it unwelcoming.

It's like a new pair of wool suit pants. Nothing feels right, movement is irritating and you really don't want to sit down. In fact, all you want to do is get away from the discomfort and move on. That, of course, was not my feel of L.A. when I lived there or I never would have stayed so long. The last several times I was in Hermosa, Redondo and Manhattan beaches I was just as uneasy. Maybe there is some truth to this "you can't go home again" stuff. Some places are best left in the past to hold memories but not to be revisited, resurrected or unearthed. Methinks the great L.A. basin is one of those places for me.

So I am going to make a quick pass through, grab a meal or two with old friends and get out of town and back up north where the temperatures are cooler and the earth for me, much warmer.