1970: Last time you saw L.A. – you graduated high school – wanted to see the world – found yourself in Ohio – went to college – settled in. Something about Lake Erie. Swore you would never look back. Got a job – forgot about Santa Ana winds. Saw the Malibu fires on TV – told yourself you were lucky. Got married – got divorced – got nostalgic.
Cleaning out storage – box of photos – hits you like bricks – you had great times in L.A. – you met “her” in L.A. – you have unfinished business in L.A. – promised you’d write – never did – wondered why.
Winters last forever in Ohio – you miss Westwood – you miss Sunset – you miss The Whiskey, you saw The Doors there. You wonder what people look like now – you wonder if she remembers you. You have grey hair; you found three in one day.
So you decided you didn’t want to be where the bad memories were and you wanted to go home. Home was L.A. and good memories. Your life fits in the back of a Jeep Cherokee. You toss, pack and head West. Taking the scenic route – taking the memorial drive – lots of shopping centers and outlet stores; they weren’t there before. Lots more houses – lots less orange groves. More people – More accidents.
L.A. starts somewhere after Palm Springs. You keep telling yourself it looks familiar – wouldn’t know it if you fell over it. Where’s all the smog?
If you didn’t know what L.A. City Hall looked like you’d swear you stumbled on to another planet. Your old neighborhood got bulldozed and now it’s wall to wall condos. Nobody lives anywhere they used to – some friends moved to Santa Clarita – some moved to Agoura – a couple made good on their promise and moved to Topanga. The city looks like it was mugged.
P.O.P is gone – caught fire one night – The Cheetah left a long time ago. No Earth Rose – no Infinite Mind – no Fairfax to speak of. No Helms Bakery, just antiques.
You sigh a lot – the girlfriend has three kids, a husband who works too much and can’t quite place your face. You don’t even recognize your radio – what happened to KMET and B. Mitchel Reed? What is this KOST-FM all about?
Thomas Wolfe was right – the only thing that’s familiar about L.A. is October, Santa Ana Winds and hot nights. You’ll take it – you’ll make do with the rest – for now.
As a shock or a reminder, here’s an hour’s worth of KOST-FM with MC Kelly fro October 30, 1985.
