Leaving Los Angeles

This week we returned from our annual trip to see our families “back East” (as people in California call anything to the east of Phoenix). For the first time in 14 years in Los Angeles, I was not that thrilled about arriving in my adopted home. Maybe it’s the still out-of-control real estate, the nasty state of LAX compared to the airports in Detroit, Hartford, and Minneapolis, or dread of the frenetic school year. The last few days Los Angeles has grown on me again, like a wayward spouse.

I’d like to think that I’ll remember everything that I came to love about the city. Sometimes I can work myself up into a semi-ecstatic state about some little experience or observation here. Maybe it’s just a sign of maturity that I don’t get rapturous about the sunsets and the smell of eucalyptus and night-blooming jasmine as much as I used to.