I was born and raised in Pasadena and Altadena for 18 years. It was an awesome place to grow up, minus the smog. In the 70’s and 80’s, there were days that the smog was so bad, we’d actually have “smog alerts”, days in which we would have to stay inside at recess and lunchtime, days when you literally could not see the sun through all the smog. People who didn’t experience this sometimes don’t believe me, but “smog days” were like “rainy days”. We had to limit our outdoor activity during these times, it was mandated. Now, in the summer, when the smog was often at its worst, it was up to our parents to limit our activity. I clearly remember going swimming in the summers and then not being able to take a deep breath afterwards without coughing like an avid smoker at the age of 8. My lungs burned. It was normal to us, we didn’t know any differently. Years later at age 20, I moved to San Francisco to attend college at SFSU, which is in one of the foggier sides of town. When the fog would roll in every day and I could see it from my dorm room window, I initially thought it was smoke. In addition, for probably the first month or so, I actually had a difficult time breathing, and I finally figured out my lungs were not accustomed to breathing CLEAN air. That was truly a shock…my body was struggling to accept air that was devoid of smog.
Despite the smog, I am very grateful I grew up where I did. Pasadena is a beautiful city, and we grew up in lovely homes (mom’s and dad’s) and I had a wonderfully diverse group of friends, many of whom I am still friends with. Pasadena was progressive, open-minded, and comfortable. I wouldn’t change any of that. The public school system was great during those years and I feel they served me well, depending of course on how much effort I was willing to put in. When it’s clear in Pasadena and Altadena, the views of the San Gabriel Mountains are breathtaking, and there are days you can see all the way to the ocean. Summer nights in Pasadena still have a certain smell and the air has a certain feel that make me nostalgic for my teenage years. The neighborhoods have wonderful and amazing history, including the Greene and Greene bungalows, and the charming cottages built in the 1920’s. Michigan Avenue, the street on which we lived, had oak trees so large and so old, they made a canopy over the entire street, a “tunnel of trees” like they have in Kauai.
There are beautiful landmarks like City Hall and All Saints’ Church, where I attended preschool and where my father’s ashes are kept. There are true treasures in Pasadena, but I fear they're being swallowed.
The revitalization of “Old Towne” Pasadena didn’t really begin until I moved away. Before then, that section of Colorado Blvd. was devoid of any real business, there were a lot of abandoned old buildings, one movie theatre, and Ernie Jr’s, an awesome Mexican restaurant that’s now gone. When I’d return over the next decade or so to visit, the area had exploded. At first it was cool, a place to play pool and drink, and some great new restaurants. Then it just appears to have gotten completely out of hand…the area exploded. How many shops can you cram into one area? It’s like the city planners were on methamphetamines…let’s put a Tiffany’s on the corner! But wait, there’s a Hooters on the same block, that doesn’t really fit…ahhh to hell with it!! Money is money! There’s every store imaginable there, from Target to Saks Fifth Avenue, although I’ve heard that Saks closed down. I believe Hooters may have as well. I’d imagine that this exploding Mecca of commerce has suffered with the rest of the country and its economic woes, but it still appeared to me that the developers were manic and loopy. In addition to the stores and nightclubs and galleries, horrific, ugly, expensive townhouses were built down there as well, obscuring any views of the mountains that were there when I was young. Old Pasadena standards like Pooh-Bah records vanished. On a visit about three years ago, friends took me out to a place that had Tapas…it was great, but vastly overpriced, as well as their clientele being vastly underdressed. Not underdressed as in too casual, they were not wearing an adequate amount of clothing to cover their bodies. In other words, they were damn near naked, and these were young girls, probably in their late teens, early 20’s. If they dared sit down or even move, their bits were in danger of popping out. They literally looked like hookers. We were out early too, probably about 6pm and one of my girlfriends was pregnant at the time. I remember asking her, “Why are they dressed like that at 6pm?” “Welcome to the new Pasadena!” was the reply. I liked the old Pasadena. At the same restaurant for dessert, I ordered an item called, I shit you not, “The Caramel Apple Experience”. It’s not a dessert, it’s an experience. Was the ghost of Jimi Hendrix going to appear as I ate it? It was tiny, of course, but delicious. I’m grateful I got to engage in the experience of my dessert.
As with a great portion of the rest of the state, huge scars were gouged out of the mountains to built gated, exclusive communities. They’re hideous. This isn’t unique to Pasadena, or even Los Angeles, but it was still sad to see. Every time I would come down to visit, the place looked different. My perspective was also different, of course, but it also was literally different. It’s completely disorienting. It also appears that many in the entertainment industry have swarmed into Pasadena in droves, making it somewhat of a Hollywood East. When I was younger, we’d go down and party in Hollywood all the time, and it was amazingly, drunkenly entertaining. Through my eyes today, of course, I’d see Hollywood for what it is, a pretty depressing dump of a place that chews people up and spits them out. I’d hate to see that happen to my beloved home town also. However, it does appear to have gotten extremely uppity, too much for my taste. It doesn’t even resemble “home” to me anymore. During one visit, it was pointed out to me that I was looking around LA as though I was on a different planet. Well, that's how it appears to me now.
My grandparents also lived in Pasadena, but also had a mobile home in Laguna Beach, so I spent numerous summers there. Their mobile home park, El Morro, had a private beach at the time. The homes were all built high up on a cliff, and there was a tram that would travel up the hill and up and down each little street of the community, picking people up that wanted to go to the beach. It would then travel back down the steep road to the bottom. At that point we would get off and walk through a tunnel that went under the Pacific Coast Highway and emerge at our beautiful, private beach. The tunnel itself was painted on the inside, somewhat of a combination of art and graffiti. When the tides were too high, the tunnel would flood and we wouldn’t be able to get down there. I remember evenings there, watching the waves glow blue in the dark with the phosphorus that was in the water, and roasting marshmallows on the sand. Downtown Laguna Beach is simply gorgeous, I’ve been told it resembles a lot of the beaches in Australia.
I have wonderful memories of seeing movies at the single theatre in town, going to the candy shop or the ice cream shop afterwards and walking across the street to the main beach to watch the guys play basketball or watch the sunset. It was a kid’s paradise, and I will always have awesome memories of that time. Since then, however, multi-million dollar McMansions in gated communities have been built up in the hillsides and my grandparent’s mobile home community was sold to the state. It also feels as though as a woman in Laguna, or Newport, or Dana Point, you have to show proof of some sort of plastic surgery before you will be permitted to enter, preferably breast augmentation. I haven’t been there for years and years, but the last time I was there, at least 8 out of every 10 women who passed by on the street were not displaying the breasts God had given them, and believe me, they were on display. I will never understand this. Had I grown up elsewhere, it’s possible that my self esteem would have been just as low in those early years. However, growing up in LA and Orange County in the 70’s and 80’s, with my fair skin (read “white that’s nearly bluish/transparent”), dark hair, and shall we say, non-voluptuous build, I was the antithesis of what people considered beautiful at the time. In fact, I think I still am, at least in that part of California.
There are money-grubbing, uppity people in San Francisco too, I was a nanny for quite a few of them. All urban areas have their good and bad points. However, the good outweighed the bad for me there, and I never, ever considered moving back to Los Angeles once I’d left. This displeased some friends and family, but I have never regretted it. Griffith Park can’t compare with Golden Gate Park. I will have to give LA the crown for the Hollywood Bowl though, nothing compares with that, another of LA’s legendary jewels. Santa Monica Beach with its cigarette butts in the sand can’t compare with the charm of tiny Bean Hollow State Beach, about 30 minutes south of SF. It’s serene and quiet, usually completely empty, and has perfect little tide pools and amazing sunsets. I used to go there frequently by myself, mostly to escape dorm living for awhile and to write.
The little restaurants outside of Malibu on the beach can’t compare to the Moss Beach Distillery, where they’ll bring blankets out to your lounge chair while you watch the sunset over the ocean while waiting for your table. It even has its own resident ghost. To me, The Castro is more fun than West Hollywood, where I felt looked down upon as not good enough or well dressed enough. Traffic in San Francisco and the surrounding areas sucks, but nothing compares to LA traffic. It’s mind-numbingly horrible. Not only that, but it’s nearly impossible to time or predict. The 405, for example, can be packed any day of the week at any time, there’s no rhyme or reason. Arguably, the weather in LA is probably better than SF, although I really enjoyed actual seasons, even if they happened in the wrong months (summer is winter in the SF neighborhood I lived in). However, nothing compares to the months of October and April in San Francisco, when the warm weather makes its rare appearance and the entire city, in a collective wonderful mood, comes outside and heads to the park, the Marina, and the beaches to sail, fly kites, and watch their children play.
Following my 3 years in SF, I spent one miserable year in Burlingame. Burlingame itself is an adorable little town, and I loved it. The misery stemmed from having graduated college with no idea what to do with my life, living with a roommate I hated, dating someone I didn’t love, and using my college degree to answer phones and wash coffee cups at a software company. When I was accepted to graduate school, I moved to Stockton to attend UOP. UOP is a surprisingly beautiful campus, and often movies are shot there because it looks ivy-league like. Outside of that, I don’t have a lot of great things to say about Stockton, other than I got my education there, started my career there, and met my husband there. I still have wonderful friends there as well, but as a destination, a place to settle down, it wasn’t for me.
For the past 11 years, I’ve been living in Elk Grove, a suburb of Sacramento. Is it exceedingly interesting and stimulating? No, not really. I adore our home and neighborhood, but it’s not unique, it’s a tract home in a development. However, here’s what I love about where I live: It’s homey, all our neighbors know each other, the school district is fabulous, our kids can walk to school and walk to friends’ houses, and anything and everything we might need is close by. Sacramento is ten minutes away, and believe it or not, has some great museums and shows and restaurants. San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, and Yosemite are all within a 2-3 hour drive. Elk Grove itself has actually grown quite a bit, but has still maintained a small town feel. The people here, for the most part, are very friendly and open. It’s not as liberal as other places I’ve lived, but I can live with that. This is where we’ve settled, and this is home. I can breathe here. I can be myself here. I don’t have to pretend I’m something I’m not.
Los Angeles, and Pasadena in particular, I do hold you in high esteem for the experiences you gave me. I also realize that there was always a part of me that didn’t belong there, that was longing to escape. It’s sad, but that’s how I truly feel about it, I didn’t move, I escaped. Choosing to move to Northern California was the single best decision I have ever made in my life, and I have never regretted it. My condolences, Southern California, we just weren’t meant to be.
Amen.
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