Some hard truths courtesy of the late Waylon Jennings:
When I first saw New York City
I was green down to the core
You could see my red neck glowing
For a mile or maybe more
Between the hustlers and the hookers
I must have made their day
Cause they peeled me like an apple, Lawd
And sent me on my way
When you’re pushed and shoved and almost mugged
It ain’t no place to be
So I came to one conclusion
New York ain’t for me
From sea to shining sea
And coast to coast
Somewhere in the middle
Is the land I love the most
I ain’t California pretty
I can’t survive the Great White Way
I’m too dumb for New York City
And too ugly for L.A.
I made my way to Tinseltown
To Hollywood and Vine
Out among the pretty faces
I’d surely find a place for mine
The way I walk–the way I talk
They’ll hang on every word
But don’t call me, I’ll call you
Was all I ever heard
In L.A. what they’re thinking
Ain’t what they talk about
At least in New York City
There’s never any doubt
I’m too dumb for New York City
And too ugly for L.A.
I found myself at this site courtesy of the NY-based Dorothy Parker Society newsletter. I was born in NYC and spent most of my young and adult life in the city and its environs. I have been living in California since 1975, starting with the L.A. area, then moving around the state and finally settling in Goleta, next to Santa Barbara. So much for the story of my life, as background to my comment. The snobbery of New Yorkers to “have to” move to (ugh!) Los Angeles is about as shallow and meaningless as the snobbery of sports fans enthusing about “their” teams. Los Angeles is populated probably by more ex-New Yorkers than native Californians, so if you’re looking for people with the so-called urbane sophistication of New Yorkers, you’re bumping into them every day, while enjoying the relatively superb California weather and comparative, though imperfect, freedom of movement and personal safety. I could go on and on, but I won’t. Try to enjoy your captivity in California, and if you can afford it, move to Santa Barbara.