Living in LA (or at least I'm not wearing a Burkka)

To not acknolwedge how lucky we are to live in America is to prove our ignorance of the world. Okay, what's it like living in the paradise of southern California? The sun is out, the sky is blue and the first thing you notice is that LA is like walking into the Emerald City in the land of Oz. If NYC is black & white and Texas more sepia tones, LA blows your mind with the colorful flowers, green grasses and blue skies on idyllic days.

Then one day in January, February or March it rains and keeps raining. Rivers of water drain from the mountainsides carrying with them the dirt which closes all the roads. In some instances leaving no recourse but to take the long, two-hour way into town or stay at a hotel close to work. Then the Santa Anna winds blow in from the desert and some idiot tosses a cigarette or sparks from a vehicle ignite a field and now fires destroy homes and lives.

Okay, you'd bettter enjoy the sun while you can because "the big one" is on its way. Like insurgents, we don't know when or exactly where, but we have a pretty good idea it's a given. And LA. The airports, Longbeach Harbor, the unprotected shorelines. Too much area to watch. I know they are trying. I pray for them.

But I also believe one day in some way paradise will end. Okay, I'm walking and talking and driving and laughing and no one shoots at me because of my religeous beliefs or my heritage. No one drops bombs in my neighborhood or snipes at me from a rooftop. And because that is not happening I refuse to take on survivor guilt. The inequity of life is a good arguement for reincarnation. The arbitrariness just too painful.