a pretty great break-up letter with LA from dave…nice.
[photo from here]
Dear Los Angeles,
The time has come for you and I to go our separate ways. It’s not me, it’s you.
I already know exactly what you’re going to say: “But the weather is perfect here, bro!” It’s not perfect. Take your perma-70-and-sunny and stick it up your ass. I miss seasons.
“But…. but…. you can totally go surfing and snow skiing in the same day, bro!” You love saying that one. Yet, I’ve never known any of your citizens to actually attempt this. I imagine it’s because this would mean surfing for a few minutes at sun rise, sitting in traffic for 8 hours to get to the mountains, and then hitting one or two runs before sunset.
“But if you want to work in the music industry, LA is where EVERYTHING is happening, bro.” Well, I guess that all depends on your definition of “everything”. I’ve seen a lot of money being made on the buying and selling of art, but not much creation of art. You don’t have much of a scene, LA. Artists don’t give a fuck about each other because they’re all competing for the same yogurt commercial placement.
I imagine you’ll also point out all of the people I met who claim to LOVE Los Angeles… that I will love it too if I give it more time. First of all, you and I both know that half of those people are full of shit… drowning in their false positivity. And the remaining half love LA because they came from somewhere awful to begin with. Los Angeles probably looks pretty great when all you know is Salt Lake City, but I’ve been around enough to know better.
The bottom line here, LA, is that you suffer from a severe poverty of the spirit. A supreme lack of heart and soul. The word “genuineness” isn’t in your vocabulary. Your “I’m gonna get mine” attitude has no place in this world anymore, at least not the world I want to live in.
After all of this seething hatred, I feel compelled to point out a few of the things I’m going to miss about you, LA. To name a few, I’m going to miss The Reigning Monarchs, Bullet and Snowfox, and The Deathstar. I’ll miss the bloody mary bar at La Cita downtown, and the all-day-every-day special ($4 pint of PBR and a shot of tequila) at The Gold Room. I’ll miss funky soul dance night at the Echo, and truffle fries at Wurstküche. Maybe this is a good time to mention that I don’t regret my time with you, LA. We had some fun, but it’s time to move on.
If we dig right to the heart of the issue here, it’s that I’m still in love with Austin. To be frank, you never really stood a chance, Los Angeles.
I wish you well, LA-LA Land. Good luck not falling into the ocean.