Funny you can taste the air
Despite the smog, everything was sunny clean, even the streets. Smiling faces made eye contact on sidewalks without swearing or ‘fuck you fingers’ flying. Friendly namedropping salespeople, secreting their headshots, all had something ‘in development,’ a script, record deal, a callback. Fame analogous to cash, the foundation of the fragile value structure. Unlike New York, if you were rich in L.A. it didn’t mean shit unless you knew someone famous.
After a lifetime in New York, Los Angeles was culture shock. In the song “California Freeway Goin’ South” I’d later write:
Never been out of New York City
But I heard a lot about the coast
Flying on in to L.A. Airport
Got myself a lethal dose
Step out into the California weather
Funny you can taste the air
Fog on the freeway
They say is getting better
But my eyes get red when I stare