10.14.2007: LA (Part II): Two sides of the city

On the way back from breakfast downtown with Malu, I’m driving on the Santa Monica freeway and listening to KCRW.  A woman — post sex reassignment surgery — named Yvonne is talking to Harry, the chat show host. Her current job is as a life coach, whatever that is. He asks, and she says, “No, it doesn’t require any training or a degree, and it can be done from one’s home.” “So it’s really convenient?” Harry asks. “Oh yes,” Yvonne replies. “Just yesterday I did a phone session with a client while I was having an estrogen colonic.”

[Note: Turns out this was from Harry Shearer's "Le Show", a bit with Tom Leopold: Listen here]

In the afternoon, C and I went for a hike in the Santa Monica Mountains, which sounds like more than it is. The trail begins in Brentwood — OJ once lived there — at the former ranch of Will Rogers, now Will Rogers State Historic Park.  The trail continues and then connects to some parkland in the hills. The Backbone Trail continues along the spine of the hills, up and up. We hiked uphill for a solid 1.5 hours. That’s Santa Monica in the distance. It’s glorious.

The vegetation is desert scrub: pathetic dried out plants barely eking out a life on the dusty, dry hills. Occasionally there are unexpected areas of shade that feel cool and seemingly damp. Some succulents and holly oak trees now and then, but mostly it’s desert vegetation and ready for a match.

These trails (we went on another, much more crowded one in Hollywood the day before) are some of the nicest things about LA. The plant life may be sad — at least according to someone from the east — but the views are magnificent, and the quiet and stillness is something you will never find in Central Park. We asked a mountain biker and she said that Backbone eventually leads to Dirt Mullholland, an extension of the famous road that snakes along the ridges over Hollywood and Beverly Hills. From there one could go down to the ocean, and if you go even further inland, you will eventually get to Topanga canyon.

On the way back to NYC we flew over the western lands, which were looking even more abstract than usual.