One of the best things about taking a nice, long road trip every summer to Grants Pass, Oregon (by way of Santa Cruz, CA) is that being away from Los Angeles for any extended period of time always reminds me of just why I love L.A. so much in the first place. Yes, I admit it, I love L.A., probably more than anyplace I've ever lived.
In fact, having been down here for over twenty-two years now, Mrs. Yeti and I have officially lived in L.A./Burbank longer than we've ever lived anywhere else. And though we love to get away, something about this crazy, sprawling urban jungle just makes us feel excited and alive. Maybe it's because we were both born down here, who knows? But for us, L.A. is home, and as we drove over the Grapevine on Sunday night and caught our first glimpse of the shimmering lights of the San Fernando Valley in the distance, I'm not embarrassed to admit that we both got more than a little choked up.
I'm not sure if that was because we were relieved that some of the more dramatic episodes from our trip were behind us, or the simple fact that we were just happy to be home. But for whatever reason, we practically kissed the ground when we arrived!
And today, as Greta and I grabbed lunch at a totally 80's Taco Bell on Ventura Boulevard — which is one of my two favorite thoroughfares in L.A., BTW, Wilshire Boulevard being the other — I spotted a dude with the long grey hair and tight, studded jeans of a faded rock star enjoying a Meximelt while a crazy-eyed trannie demanded the key to the restroom at the register, and I just smiled from ear to ear. Oh, L.A., how I've missed you. It really is good to be home!
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Stay-at-home-Yeti 