I’ll Take L.A.

It’s no secret to anyone that knows me or has listened to our Nice Girls Radio broadcast, recently, that I hate to fly. For one thing, I do not possess the kind of body that can fit comfortably in those teeny, tiny, airplane seats. I’m a tall woman stuffed into a short woman’s body. Airplanes are so uncomfortable for me. I hate the feeling in my stomach during take-off and landing. I’m not a lover of roller-coasters, so the up and down motions of the craft unsettle me immensely. And God help me when the thing has to make a turn! I’m also a tad claustrophobic. This is a problem when the person in front of me reclines their seat.

Going out to L.A. last week was something I looked forward to for quite some time. I was looking forward to those panels like an eager kid promised a vacation to Disneyland. I just knew that once I got passed the flight, I’d settle in, relax and enjoy my week. The Fates, however, had other plans. The night before I was to leave, I tripped on my son’s toy truck, twisting my knee in such a way that I saw the stars from many galaxies spinning around above my head. But I was going to L.A., by golly! Nothing was going to stop me! Not airplane nor toy truck.

Los Angeles, CA: sunshine, Hollywood, beaches, beautiful mountains! What a prize for my suffering. It did not disappoint. Besides the scenery, the people are fabulous. I am born and raised, Chicagoan, so big cities do not impress me, especially where the people are concerned. When you walk down the streets of Downtown Chicago, people are either looking down at the sidewalk or busy on their cell phones. They don’t look at you, and if their glance happens your way, they do not see you. Not so in L.A. They are always ready with a smile and a ‘hello’. I couldn’t get enough. I could have people-watched all day long. I guess if I lived in a place where the sun is rarely obstructed by cloud cover and the breeze is usually warm and soothing, I’d be pretty happy myself.

I’m still not a city girl, though born one. My heart belongs in the country and always will. I’m a Mayberry kind of gal. I would never want to live in L.A., but I will surely be going back there to visit, again and again. I’ll brave turbulent flights and skinny seats to gimp along Hollywood and Vine with my wounded knee. I’ll be back, L.A.! Keep yourself pretty for me.