15 minutes
Monday, June 19, 2006
Get your body beat, let the blood flow.
It was once said that even those who live in the posh parts of any town that a simple fifteen minute drive in any direction will get you to where the grass ain’t greener. Is this true? Living in Oxnard in a decent (but not posh) part of town that fifteen minute drive would take you to Colonia, although I have never attempted to wander towards that direction. The urban tales that it is drug fueled and gang banger infested just warned my adolescent self to stay away. Yet, some good friends of mine lived there. I think some good friends of mine still live there. Years later, I realized as close as it is I do not think I ever got to Colonia, I just never had any reason to head that way. Maybe I have, I never really knew where Oxnard stopped and Colonia began anyway.
Fifteen minutes the other way and you come across the Pacific Ocean. Or strawberry fields. Or places that used to be strawberry fields. A trailer park once adjacent to a strawberry field and now both paved over so we can get stuck in traffic faster. I have not lived in the ‘Nard since 1997. I can still find my way around, but I cannot rely on old landmarks anymore.
After the ‘Nard, I lived in Northridge, right next to the university. A fifteen minute drive northwest would take you to Chatsworth and we all know what happens there. Hidden debaucheries in the nondescript warehouses. Fifteen minutes east takes you to Van Nuys. Disastrous in the summertime, as the intense heat pours down on you from above and rises from the concrete below. A town where dealers push their wares by the children’s shelter. Hell, quite often, the dealers were the ones utilizing the shelter themselves. And the houses here still sell for half a million dollars.
Fifteen minutes down Sepulveda towards Ventura Boulevard and you get to the multi million dollar houses and the restaurant where Phil Hartman’s wife ventured to right after his murder. I think it was also where the guy from Baretta went to right after his wife died. The hip place where celebrities go to after the loss of their significant others for whatever reason, proven or not. That aside, Buca De Beppo’s is a great place to eat with a million of your closest friends. Just make sure you did not piss your significant other prior to going.
Fifteen minutes from there gets you to Hollywood, both where they film American Idol and where several years ago a bank was held up and the robbers stood their ground because their guns were bigger that the ones the authorities had. Hollywood where as the cliché goes, 1% of dreams are made and 99% of dreams are stomped bloody in the head. But they sure have some nice clubs there.
Fifteen minutes from there can take you to any of the thousand miles of freeway stringing the handful of towns that make up the city of angels. Fifteen minutes out of Los Angeles one way takes you straight to Orange County. Another fifteen minutes the other way takes you immediately into Ventura County. If you are lucky and take the fifteen minutes out of LA via the 10 west to the Pacific Coast Highway and you will drive by the ocean. It will take longer than fifteen minutes before you run out of city but it is worth it. A drive down where car commercials are bon and where most die. Where you want to just dive your car into the ocean.
Another fifteen minutes out to LA another way and you get the lands where massive brush fires ravaged a couple of years back and from those ashes rising are more multi million dollar homes. Because, hey, we all need them expensive houses to live in. Do you want me to live in a half million dollar home in Van Nuys?
Like. Oh. My. God.
Nowadays I live in Austin.
Eleven months this month.
Fifteen minutes from where I live gets me to work smack dab I the heart of downtown. Fifteen minutes the other way gets me face to face with a cow. Or a Goat. Or an Emu. Fifteen minutes gets me to Del Valle lovingly called Del Valley where 100% of the schools are considered crappy. I am sure it is not their fault. Fifteen minutes the other way gets you to where the schools are considered not as crappy. People here tend to base where they live if the considered crappy or not. Even if they do not have kids.
Fifteen minutes another way leads to Manchaca lovingly pronounced Man-Shack. Fifteen minutes further and you are in Bexar lovingly likewise pronounced Bear. And if your name is Salazar, be ready to be called Sal Laser. They really like Sci Fi here. And by the way, I am by Guada-loop street at the moment. Another year or so I will be saying Ya All like all the locals here.
Fifteen minutes anywhere else I am not sure yet. I have not ventured there yet.
Is the grass greener fifteen minutes away? Who knows? People can be happy wherever they live. They can be denial or they have roots there or they can be genuinely happier there. If the grass is actually greener, I think maybe it is because of the cows.
Here at least.
On anther note Combichrist and KMFDM are coming to town this October 19th, 2006.
I am so happy.
And I know it.
So I clap my hands.
________________________________________________________________________
http://www.myspace.com/catterpillarboy
http://catterpillarboy.blogspot.com/
Get your body beat, let the blood flow.
It was once said that even those who live in the posh parts of any town that a simple fifteen minute drive in any direction will get you to where the grass ain’t greener. Is this true? Living in Oxnard in a decent (but not posh) part of town that fifteen minute drive would take you to Colonia, although I have never attempted to wander towards that direction. The urban tales that it is drug fueled and gang banger infested just warned my adolescent self to stay away. Yet, some good friends of mine lived there. I think some good friends of mine still live there. Years later, I realized as close as it is I do not think I ever got to Colonia, I just never had any reason to head that way. Maybe I have, I never really knew where Oxnard stopped and Colonia began anyway.
Fifteen minutes the other way and you come across the Pacific Ocean. Or strawberry fields. Or places that used to be strawberry fields. A trailer park once adjacent to a strawberry field and now both paved over so we can get stuck in traffic faster. I have not lived in the ‘Nard since 1997. I can still find my way around, but I cannot rely on old landmarks anymore.
After the ‘Nard, I lived in Northridge, right next to the university. A fifteen minute drive northwest would take you to Chatsworth and we all know what happens there. Hidden debaucheries in the nondescript warehouses. Fifteen minutes east takes you to Van Nuys. Disastrous in the summertime, as the intense heat pours down on you from above and rises from the concrete below. A town where dealers push their wares by the children’s shelter. Hell, quite often, the dealers were the ones utilizing the shelter themselves. And the houses here still sell for half a million dollars.
Fifteen minutes down Sepulveda towards Ventura Boulevard and you get to the multi million dollar houses and the restaurant where Phil Hartman’s wife ventured to right after his murder. I think it was also where the guy from Baretta went to right after his wife died. The hip place where celebrities go to after the loss of their significant others for whatever reason, proven or not. That aside, Buca De Beppo’s is a great place to eat with a million of your closest friends. Just make sure you did not piss your significant other prior to going.
Fifteen minutes from there gets you to Hollywood, both where they film American Idol and where several years ago a bank was held up and the robbers stood their ground because their guns were bigger that the ones the authorities had. Hollywood where as the cliché goes, 1% of dreams are made and 99% of dreams are stomped bloody in the head. But they sure have some nice clubs there.
Fifteen minutes from there can take you to any of the thousand miles of freeway stringing the handful of towns that make up the city of angels. Fifteen minutes out of Los Angeles one way takes you straight to Orange County. Another fifteen minutes the other way takes you immediately into Ventura County. If you are lucky and take the fifteen minutes out of LA via the 10 west to the Pacific Coast Highway and you will drive by the ocean. It will take longer than fifteen minutes before you run out of city but it is worth it. A drive down where car commercials are bon and where most die. Where you want to just dive your car into the ocean.
Another fifteen minutes out to LA another way and you get the lands where massive brush fires ravaged a couple of years back and from those ashes rising are more multi million dollar homes. Because, hey, we all need them expensive houses to live in. Do you want me to live in a half million dollar home in Van Nuys?
Like. Oh. My. God.
Nowadays I live in Austin.
Eleven months this month.
Fifteen minutes from where I live gets me to work smack dab I the heart of downtown. Fifteen minutes the other way gets me face to face with a cow. Or a Goat. Or an Emu. Fifteen minutes gets me to Del Valle lovingly called Del Valley where 100% of the schools are considered crappy. I am sure it is not their fault. Fifteen minutes the other way gets you to where the schools are considered not as crappy. People here tend to base where they live if the considered crappy or not. Even if they do not have kids.
Fifteen minutes another way leads to Manchaca lovingly pronounced Man-Shack. Fifteen minutes further and you are in Bexar lovingly likewise pronounced Bear. And if your name is Salazar, be ready to be called Sal Laser. They really like Sci Fi here. And by the way, I am by Guada-loop street at the moment. Another year or so I will be saying Ya All like all the locals here.
Fifteen minutes anywhere else I am not sure yet. I have not ventured there yet.
Is the grass greener fifteen minutes away? Who knows? People can be happy wherever they live. They can be denial or they have roots there or they can be genuinely happier there. If the grass is actually greener, I think maybe it is because of the cows.
Here at least.
On anther note Combichrist and KMFDM are coming to town this October 19th, 2006.
I am so happy.
And I know it.
So I clap my hands.
________________________________________________________________________
http://www.myspace.com/catterpillarboy
http://catterpillarboy.blogspot.com/
posted by Catterpillarboy at 12:30 PM
1 Comments:
Colonia Forever Muthafucka!
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