So despite my feeling out of alignment with the standard WeHo crowd (like hearing those whispering voices in the jungle on "Lost", I get the word that this is not a place where I'm wanted or needed; I'm an interloper...) I stayed for the meeting last night anyway, and as always happens, it was the perfect share to hear (besides, some old rule from way back when says I'm not allowed to leave a meeting once I'm there; recognizing that a different meeting might be more comfortable or appropriate is another issue) and I was glad I stayed until the voices passed. Having time is weird, ya know?
When I was 20-something --even 30-something-- it was no big deal, but now I'm feeling more than the mere tyranny of youth that so permeates LA (especially WeHo). There is the palpable sense that most of my generation is gone... so few of my peers are left around whether in the rooms or around the neighborhood. That's part of why there seem to be so many of these young puppies around while I'm not a troll (I don't think so, at any rate) I out of sync with identifying with the other 40-somethings I see around. They all seem so much... older than I feel. Like fable of the grasshopper and the ant? While I wasn't looking, I got old. Yet, I don't feel old.
Granted, I like to carry on a conversation with someone in the English I was taught to speak, which seems a tad more formal than the standard twinktalk, and what I like to talk about --as well as what interests me-- seems a lot more grown up. Then again, in this neck of the woods, even those my own age have an inordinate amount of investment in vapid throw-away culture.
This town--this country--is so prepossessed with petty, silly stupid vain shit. When I was a shmata, the people who worked in the heart of the fashion industry understood that clothes were but mere rags; they didn't measure a person's real worth. Even within my own family, though, pop culture reigns supreme.
It isn't like I don't like to really, really laugh out loud and have a good time. Maybe out of the ruins of this morass there will arise those who have some sense and a few brains in their heads.
...and it's a beautiful day out, and I need to explore it, and embrace it, and enjoy it.
When I was 20-something --even 30-something-- it was no big deal, but now I'm feeling more than the mere tyranny of youth that so permeates LA (especially WeHo). There is the palpable sense that most of my generation is gone... so few of my peers are left around whether in the rooms or around the neighborhood. That's part of why there seem to be so many of these young puppies around while I'm not a troll (I don't think so, at any rate) I out of sync with identifying with the other 40-somethings I see around. They all seem so much... older than I feel. Like fable of the grasshopper and the ant? While I wasn't looking, I got old. Yet, I don't feel old.
Granted, I like to carry on a conversation with someone in the English I was taught to speak, which seems a tad more formal than the standard twinktalk, and what I like to talk about --as well as what interests me-- seems a lot more grown up. Then again, in this neck of the woods, even those my own age have an inordinate amount of investment in vapid throw-away culture.
This town--this country--is so prepossessed with petty, silly stupid vain shit. When I was a shmata, the people who worked in the heart of the fashion industry understood that clothes were but mere rags; they didn't measure a person's real worth. Even within my own family, though, pop culture reigns supreme.
It isn't like I don't like to really, really laugh out loud and have a good time. Maybe out of the ruins of this morass there will arise those who have some sense and a few brains in their heads.
...and it's a beautiful day out, and I need to explore it, and embrace it, and enjoy it.
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