Six months ago, I moved to Southern California. It’s taking a lot of getting used to. And it’s more than just the weather (damn near perfect. All the time), the traffic (yes, it’s as bad as everyone says. Even at 2 a.m. it can be worse than Manhattan traffic at rush hour), and the fact that the ocean is on the wrong side. The people, and their priorities, seem to be collectively skewed — which is strange for a location where a large portion of its residents are non-native to the state (or the country, or this planet, as it sometimes seems). It’s not necessarily a good or bad thing — it just gives more fuel to my theory that the world is a parade of oddities, here for me to gawk at.
For example, our Governor, recently passed a law to protect the “famous people” from other people who want to take their pictures. I now live in a state where such people kill their wives (and their wives lovers), build private backyard theme parks (where they can molest children), swap their dogs — and their noses — for something smaller (and swap other parts for the larger models…), and spend their lives trying to be recognized and admired by as many people as possible, only to spend just as much time distancing themselves and fencing themselves off from those same masses. You would think our elected leaders would want to rise above the idiocy and spend their time on the more pressing issues that plague this diverse and damaged state. But they don’t, and that’s what makes this such a fascinating and fulfilling place for people like me, who thrive on complication; and live to point out life’s discrepancies and notable inanities.
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