We left Las Vegas for a three day respite in Victorville, California. It is a small town by California standards, population 100,000, and we enjoyed three days poolside surrounded by palm trees. From there we traveled west to Carlsbad and a visit with Carlos, Jeannie, and family. Carlos and I were machine gunners in the First Air Cavalry in Vietnam 40 years ago. He was a remarkable soldier, a dear friend, and deeply-bonded brother. This was our first visit since we each went home in May, 1969 and we both immediately fell into full fellowship and joyous reunion. Carlos was a small business owner during his career and built more than 2,000 residences and commercial structures before retiring. Now he does construction “good works” by referral only. Our visit was deeply satisfying on so many levels and I left their home with the feeling that I had re-connected with the deepest parts of my earthly roots.
Next stop – Los Angeles! We arrived in LA around noon on the ninth day of our walkabout. Connor held the greatest anticipation about his first view of Los Angeles. His career goal is to be a professional singer/songwriter and Los Angeles is the center of that universe. We arrived excitedly, our spirits only slightly dampened by the thrill ride known as the LA freeways. We checked into our hotel in North Hollywood and quickly lined up the requisite Hollywood tourist activities. We enjoyed a day at Universal Studios and were equally engaged by the arts of filmmaking as we were by the diversity of the 100,000 or so visitors to the park. People from around the world were present that day and we enjoyed the languages, costumes, practices, and physical characteristics of the diverse human family.
The second day we decided on a quiet morning. Connor slept late and practiced the guitar accompaniment and vocals for a new tune. I took a long walk to experience the sounds, sights, and smells of the cityscape of the largest urban setting in the U.S. The culture shock was palpable. The noise, the crowds, the pace were all played in the key of…more. Every one appeared to be talking on their cell phone while blowing their horns at inattentive drivers. Crossing the street was high adventure and the notion of pedestrian right of way a long lost civility. The streets were dirty. The air colored a deep desert brown. And everyone appeared to be in a frantic rush to…wait in line. Forty deep at Starbucks. Thirty deep to the on ramp. An hour and 15 minutes to a table for dinner. After all that culture shock came…the aftershock. More accurately, the 3.8 earthquake that rolled into the 5.4 earthquake followed by 20 aftershocks. “Moderate,” declared CNN. As I put my arm around my son’s shoulders and we sought the small safety of a doorway, moderate was not the word that came to mind. North. Now. Were more likely my mental mantra. “Did you enjoy the California foot massage?”, inquired dear Carlos. Not much, I thought, and smiled faintly into the cell phone. I made a vow to never again complain about the gray, the rain, the cool northwest climate so inhospitable to the sun. I have already broken it, unapologetically. I still like the warm. I still like the sun. I just don’t like LA. Hmmm…Las Vegas was fun!
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