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saints and poets

July 28, 2010

Some interesting things to do with your weekend, when it’s May in Southern California:   (Yes, I realize that it’s now July, but the weather has been so persistently gray that it doesn’t actually feel like summer.  I’m again practicing a little escapism by posting old scribbles from when it was warmer.)

– Get dressed for a charity benefit, channeling your inner Jackie O.  Wear a brocade jacket the color of champagne; vintage earrings; red lipstick.   Stroll through the Grove in the warm air and realize two things:  1)  That summer is here, and 2) That you have become amazingly comfortable in this city you never thought you’d entirely like.  Is that good or bad?  While you ponder the question, give your name to the girl with the clipboard, and slip into the Gilmore Adobe.  Tucked away from all the crowds at the Grove, it’s a magic slice of old, old Los Angeles — the one that was built on money from the Gilmore Oil Company, before Hollywood was even a twinkle in a developer’s eye.  Tonight, salsa music throbs through the low clay house and the rambling garden full of bougainvillea.

Bougainvilleas., originally uploaded by calebk.

Find yourself a margarita.  Find your coworkers.  Having learned your collective lesson last year, avoid the man with the sombrero, the whistle, and the tequila bottle.  Laugh.  Dance.  Have a second margarita. Maybe some tacos, too.  Twirl.

– The next morning, get up absurdly early.  Put on cutoffs, sneakers, a straw cowboy hat.  Grab your turquoise plastic sunglasses, the ones you bought for $6 at Forever21, and that mix CD that you made at 3 a.m. last night.  Jump in the Jeep.  Drive up the 405, the 5, out to the 14, out into the Mojave Desert, past where the pavement ends.  Crank up the CD — it’s almost exclusively country.  Roll the windows down and sing while the dust flies around you.  Enjoy your four-wheel drive.  When you get to where you’re going, you can spend the afternoon in the sunshine, watching rockets fly (or occasionally explode) and munching on powdered sugar donuts.  Enjoy being around the kind of people who are completely self-sufficient, even in the desert, a million miles from everywhere.   Think about the grand tradition of aerospace in California, out here where we have nothing but room.

– On Sunday, put on a cute top and go home to have a belated birthday lunch with your family.  Spend the afternoon eating tri-tip off the barbecue, watching basketball (since when does your family watch basketball?), baking a key lime pie.  Hang out in your old room with one of your best girlfriends, piled barefoot on the bed like you used to do in high school.  Squeal a little more over her new engagement ring.  Stand on the front porch and look at your street — the passing bicycles, the golden retriever; Everytown, USA.  Revel in the normalcy of it all.

– Think of that line from Our Town, that play about the unbearable beauty of an ordinary day.  Emily asks, “Do human beings realize life while they live it?  Every, every minute?” and is told, “No.  The saints and the poets, maybe.  They do some.”

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. July 29, 2010 5:29 am

    Goodness, you’ve posted…

    And a good one at that. This is why I think of moving your way, from time to time.

  2. June 21, 2011 11:05 pm

    Whoever you are… your blog/life is amazing.

    • Kate permalink*
      June 21, 2011 11:32 pm

      Hey, thanks, Katelyn! I’ve been a very negligent (read: nonexistent) blogger for the past six months, but maybe it’s about time to get back to work.

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