“Have a great day Mr Awesomeness” said the retro 70’s style hippy as he passed me on the street.
It was 8.30 am, I had just dropped off the little one at school. My daily privilege. It is normal here. People lift your spirits with their familiarity. Surprise you with their politeness. I carried on with a spring in my step confident in the knowledge that I am awesome.
The last 2 weeks has been quite busy and just a little frustrating and stressful. After buying our new/old jalopy a few things came to our attention that needed sorting before the migration south. A nasty sound developed from the front suspension and there was a noisy brake system. Usually I would get out my tools, have a nose around, find the problem, get the part and fix it myself. But, of course, here I have no tools! Or a place to legally do any work on the car. LA law states that maintenance on vehicles is not allowed anywhere unless it’s in an authorised garage or your own lock up. I think that’s to stop any annoyance to neighbours and keep the streets clean, which they are, very. No dog poop here. Regular street cleaning and bins removed promptly. A little different to New York and I haven’t seen one rat. Just plenty of delicate hummingbirds and cute squirrels. Quite a contrast. I must still be high on vitamin D. It’s all a little surreal.
So, a garage was searched and found. Turns out the suspension and the tyres were a likely suspect. I knew about the tyres. They were not going to be suitable for the rough terrain of Costa Rica. And the suspension was a necessity. So for a reasonable price we got them to do the work. And, hey presto, the sound was still there. Bummer. I discovered that all it needed was a little silicon spray to lubricate it. Job done. $3.50. Fuck. Oh well, at least now we have new shocks and springs and tyres up to the task of some off roady things.
There is another slight worry too. We still have not received the registration and title for the vehicle. These are essential if you want to cross borders. Which we have to do by the 9th April as my visa runs out. So, a little stress there too. But today I am going to find out what’s happening.
Westwood is one of the nicer areas of LA. Being right next to Beverly Hills it has to be. Tesla’s everywhere and wreaking affluence. But unlike many other wealthy domiciles it is friendly, civilised, very pretty and damned hot.
The homeless are still prevalent. Though they are a little more sophisticated here just like everything else. Here they each have a shopping trolley containing their worlds possessions. No cardboard creations. Which makes it all seem? Tidier? Maybe there is another statute requiring them to be so. It wouldn’t surprise me. But after their nights rest they clear up their things, load their carts and continue on their way leaving only the very slightest aroma of sun dried urine. Ah well. When you’ve gotta go.
I do like it here. Its a very happy place and other than the odd pungent whiff it generally smells nice.
