Can I just say I hate the BURBS? For my day job I have to drive all over Los Angeles county, including the San Gabriel Valley. CAN YOU SAY COOKIE CUTTER? SAY IT LOUD TWENTY MILLION TIMES. Ok, this kind of goes back to the previous tirade about religion. The people out here are so very different from the world in which I live (read: West Hollywood, exactly one block from where the transvestite prostitutes sell their platforms for crack, and two blocks from Marc Jacobs). It's so diverse (where I live) the pendulum swinging from one extreme to the next in seconds, not to mention there is life, activity, color. Not in San Dimas, made popular by the infamous Beavis and Butthead, (read: BUTTHEAD). We could be in the middle of America, no one would ever be the wiser. Who would guess we are only 40 miles from Los Angeles. The San Gabriel Valley is the Bible Belt of Los Angeles.
What do I dislike about it? Well as I drove out here from Watts, CA- read: South Central Los Angeles, first off it took me 1 hour and 15 minutes, why? Because of traffic. CAN YOU SAY SHEEP? SAY IT LOUD. I did. I yelled it for the last 20 minutes of my torturous drive on the 605 north as I headed East on the 210 towards San Bernardino. Everyone lives out here. I mean, EVERYONE, but NO ONE I know. What are these people like? What do these people do? (read: what are these people wearing?) Well, they have day jobs, and families, and they go to church, and they take a two week vacation each year, probably to Minnesota or Virginia, and they eat steak 4 nights a week, and drink 2% milk, they take their kids to Starbucks for a venti double double chocolate something which is as healthy as sunbathing on your roof and has so much caffeine in it for their already overfed children who are going to stop for Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way home anyway, well maybe they'll burn it off. And hopefully next year they'll get that upgrade at work, so they can get that upgrade on their wide screen television, and give this one to the rec room for the boys to enjoy football every Sunday. It's not that it's a bad life- the quality of life is easier, laid back, and status quo- but that's just it, status quo, it's middle of the road, it's middle of America and the desire to do anything outside of the box is muted, the desire to seek knowledge about life outside is muted. It's like the whole area is under a blanket, nice, safe and sheltered. My problem with this Stepford wife mentality is that it's bull-shit, full of secrets, lies and taboos, and its a breeding ground for Hate, for discrimination, sexism, racism, and genderism, languageism, to name a few and only somewhat better than the ignorance and violence found in our country's ghetto, poverty-stricken streets where gang violence and drugs reign, which are this way because of lack of resources, read: money and education. In the burbs money and education are two things that are readily available, but totally not taken advantage of, instead they are used to brainwash, mold and produce robotic androids that strive for the minimal knowledge, and maximum material goods, bigger house, bigger car, bigger TV, which is all offset because they will go to church on Sunday and wash their sins away. I understand the need for Church in our poor neighborhoods, but in the burbs, its just an attestation to people's fear of truly being who they are. And it's the kids I feel bad for, growing up in a shiny, clean, manicured world where no one exercises personal taste, and difference is frowned upon. So, what is going to happen to them when they get older? Life will slap them in the face, if it isn't already doing so now. With such a narrow, restricted and limited view of the world being spoon fed to them they are striving to be something that is not realistic for everyone. SHEEP. Can you say SHEEP? Everything seems nice, peaceful, so nice. But, I am missing culture, color, style, art, and individuality. MUTED. People are muted. People's thoughts are muted. And I am on my way to treat a family that lives here. If only I could really help them. But I won't be able to do much to change the inherent "If I buy those jeans, I could look like Kate Moss" (read: Lily Allen) attitude. And in two hours, I will be on my way back to the urban glory of Los Angeles, lights, people, bad credit, poverty, gunfire, my favorite donuts/Korean pizza shop at the corner of graffiti and pimps & ho's, and the Hebrew music wafting threw the courtyard of the building in which my small one-bedroom apartment sits, smack in the middle of chaos, next door to the old theatre that plays Queer movies year round. And to me that is peaceful. Thank you very much. Being given the space to think and do as I feel is natural. Thank you. peace-out.
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