Is LA my city yet?

I was in LA during the fires. I wasn’t near the two major ones, but the smaller fires were enough to raise concern and anxiety. I was also in LA for the 1994 earthquake, the Rodney King riot, and COVID. None of these events shook my loyalty.

That’s not true. I’m a hypocrite. I don’t have undying loyalty. I like it here, but I’ve moved away several times. And for every time I’ve left, I’ve come back.

My rocky relationship with LA began at age fifteen. Growing up in Chicago, I caught the film bug and dreamed of a NYC or LA film school—thanks to my father, who gave me all of his Interview magazines (Andy Warhol’s, if you haven’t seen them) and took me to see all of the great films.

As an artist in a sports-obsessed community, I knew early on that I wanted a creative life, and film was it. Painting came later, in my twenties.

In 1979, my father had a job interview in Beverly Hills. He brought the whole family, and we stayed at the then-named Beverly Hillcrest on Pico Boulevard—just a short walk from 20th Century Fox, where MASH* was filmed. I put on a sports jacket, jeans, and boots and walked past the Fox front gate security. Fifteen years old and strolled right in. I had no idea where the MASH* soundstage was, but I wandered past editing rooms, pocketed scraps of film from the ground, and left knowing one thing—I wanted to be part of this world. That day, my relationship with LA began, though I wouldn’t return for five years.

In 1984, when I was twenty, I moved to LA for film school. My parents insisted I wait until junior year, and I think they were hoping I’d get over it. The Olympics had just wrapped, the city was buzzing, and the heat was relentless, but I was excited.

The '80s in LA were incredible. I loved exploring Hollywood bars and cruising Sunset, though I did get into a car accident in front of the Roxy and was applauded by metalheads waiting in line. I was driving a station wagon with wood on the side to set the scene. I had only been in town for a week. I loved everything about it; I knew I could get complimentary appetizers and a gin and tonic at the Ralph Lauren store on Rodeo at 5 pm. Zuma Beach had a McDonalds 100 yards from the ocean, Venice Beach was electric, and music, and unforgettable. I frequented the new Hard Rock Cafe, The Source, and Carneys and had my first sushi at The Sushi House. I even had a Corona, which felt exotic back then, especially from suburban Chicago.

I worked at Hanna-Barbera, was a special effects artist on Spaceballs, and was an extra on many shows and films. Sleep was rare, but I loved every second. After graduating in 1986, I shared a house in Beverly Hills. We dated girls, threw parties, and had a great time. Soon, production work dried up, and I could not get anything, so I had to change. I wasn’t very patient.

In 1988, I moved to NYC, where I could immediately work on television shows, including Good Morning America. It felt good to be incredibly busy. I would jump out of bed and couldn’t get to work fast enough. I also got engaged, married, and had a daughter. I could tell you more about NYC in the 80s, but this is about LA.

By 1992, I was back in LA for my second chapter, and LA was on fire, mainly because of the riots. The film work returned—better jobs, more significant projects—but so did major life changes. I got divorced, and I learned to be a single parent. This chapter was nothing like the first. Nights out were replaced with homework, late-night work after my daughter went to bed, and early mornings doing it all again. I made new friends but rarely went out. The ’90s were a whirlwind, and eventually, I had to switch careers for a steady paycheck. With that, work changed, and so did my circle of friends.

By the late 90s, I was diagnosed with cancer and juggled the complexities and fears of this medical challenge with the drive to be a consistent parent. It was hard. My time was frequently spent leaving town on the weekends because LA was hard. That wasn’t LA’s fault; it was mine. I made it hard.

In 2007, I earned my doctorate in Clinical Psychology and moved to Texas for work. My daughter was in high school, and I could finally afford a house, so we left. I enjoyed a few great years, explored the South, and eventually moved to Florida, where I met my wife of eleven years now.

We married in Puerto Vallarta and visited LA a few times. Eventually, my wife connected with a friend from LA, and she was hired. So, in 2020, I returned to LA for a third chapter. It’s been nearly five years, and we’re loving it. We lived in a big stupid house in Laurel Canyon for a year while hiding from Covid, frequented Pace Restaurant next to the general store, and had many old favorite spots, which she got tired of hearing. But that’s her problem.

Then we bought a house in Thousand Oaks, where we are now. By now, almost anyone I’ve known from previous chapters has moved away or disappeared. This is an entirely new experience, yet I always find time for an old favorite restaurant… or the favorites that remain: the Reel Inn is gone, Cholada is gone, and so many others just since COVID! LA has changed a lot. It’s constantly evolving, sometimes with little respect for the past, and the fires will change this city even more. But LA will keep growing. It always does.