Thursday, August 2, 2007

The same theme, continued



I was in a conference room with other people high above Bunker Hill talking about rain. About how it never rains. About how we wish it would rain. About the El NiƱo years when it rained in biblical quantities.

Now the rain has stopped. I've begun to get queasy when I see things like a car repair shop attendant hosing down the floor of his garage, or six people and their cars, side by side in the 24-hour do-it-yourself car wash on Colorado, or the sprinklers chugging away across the neighborhood as I go out to retrieve the paper. Where's the water coming from? It can't go on like this.

The geniuses at the DWP better have something good in the works.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Garden of Eden in the Endless Drought

My entire backyard is dead. All of the grass is completely yellow and dry. There are some scattered dying rose bushes back there as well. I don't feel too bad about it. If the shit was supposed to live, it would live without my help. (That principle becomes a bit scarier when applied to myself out here in the desert.)

There are, inexplicably, grapes and figs growing back there as well. WTF?

It never thunders in L.A.

After the driest year on record for Los Angeles, I am hoping for some rain. I was talking to someone recently about how there are never any thunderstorms out here in L.A. It's an empty thing, a summer without a few massive thunderstorms. Thunderstorms make you feel as if the atmosphere is gathering heavily above you, crowding down on you. It feels comfy and safe to be inside on a July evening with the air conditioner on as a thunderstorm booms away above. You never get that here in L.A., and it's weird. Instead, the sky is almost always clear and fantastically empty -- nothing but blue space above. It can be a terrifying, agoraphobia-inducing type of clarity in the sky.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Why this blog is not titled Lotusland

I originally wanted to call this blog "Lotusland" but that name was taken -- by this person.

I Have Mixed Feelings About Los Angeles

I can't decide if life is good or awful. Just as I can't decide if I love or hate Los Angeles. This city is endlessly fascinating and deathly boring at the same time. It's beautiful and lovely, and giving us all cancer. The earth is turning against us one final time, it seems, and the water is going away. Perhaps L.A. will have to die. It's like the super green lawn my neighbors have in the middle of a historic drought. Beautiful, full of life, but obviously doomed.