Deep-Breath Time
It’s always been a curiosity that the people of Northern California, meaning San Francisco, openly look down on the people of the Southland, with a sneer so confirmed that no explanation is required. To Bay Areans, LaLa represents flamboyance, decadence, and a remarkable lack of depth, related to the movie industry but epitomized by all of the folks who flock to the area to be stars but don’t come close to making it. Toss in the grotesquery of smog and gridlocked roads, and it’s a fair assessment.
But not complete. There are, of course, some truly fine decent creative and thoughtful people down in the Southland and some mahvelous kulcha, really. But as with most places today, the trash level has risen, concomitant with the burgeoning population, and Southern California has gotten more than its share, in part because it’s close to the border of a poor nation, and because it also represents a beacon of opportunity to many in America. Tinseltown, orange groves, warm temperatures, and manifest destiny have attracted zillions to what might be a lovely spot, without all of the people. There’s not enough clean air or water to sustain those who have chosen to make Sprawlangeles their home.
It may be a sign that Life is purposeful, and sees yrs-truly, as an asset that the powers that be were stringing me along with small gifts like the clear skies and warm temperatures that graced the Southland the week of our visit. Or perhaps it was that the economy slowed the traditional post-Xmas shopping frenzy. Or maybe the terror attacks changed spirit of the nation, for this Christmas or forever. Wandering among the thousands who drove to community of Chino to walk neighborhoods where the people have lighted up their houses in special ways for years, we heard many different languages, but saw only one nation’s flag.
The Los Angeles area is home for people from dozens of different countries and cultures; they teach in over 80 different languages in the public schools. There’s lotsa melting, and some mingling, but judging from the variety of sights, smells, and sounds, there a many people holding a second cultural passport.
There is an irony about the Northern antipathy for the South, and that is that it is not reciprocated. Most SoCalers like Northern California. Funny, when you consider that the Northerners think of themselves as more liberal and open-minded. Let us presume that they would make exceptions for those Southlanders they knew personally.
This Christmas, the first since the world was turned upside down this last time, is more somber than years past. It is a time of more serious reflection. That taps into the core of the season of Saturnalia, of hunkering down, of the days becoming longer. That is the natural order of things. It leads one to speculate that we don’t experience Life, so much as create it. If we embrace the possibility that there is a method to the madness, that all of our thoughts and feelings are integral to the process, then while the course may not be fathomable, it doesn’t seem so mad.
And that’s SetonnoteS...I’m Tony Seton.
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