LA

Still the best thing I've read on LA is this BLDGBlog entry. Just a taste:

No matter what you do in L.A., your behavior is appropriate for the city. Los Angeles has no assumed correct mode of use. You can have fake breasts and drive a Ford Mustang – or you can grow a beard, weigh 300 pounds, and read Christian science fiction novels. Either way, you're fine: that's just how it works. You can watch Cops all day or you can be a porn star or you can be a Caltech physicist. You can listen to Carcass – or you can listen to Pat Robertson. Or both.

In concert with this thought - last night I drive down the street to a rec center where I sometimes play basketball. The weather was misty and cool like summertime in the bay area or a John Carpenter movie from the 80s. Our group is a mix a dudes and chicks from film school and some relatives and friends thrown in. Yes, co-ed hoops, and it's a lot of fun. We sometimes play with other groups of dudes who show up to play. I've yet to hear a smirk or dumb comment from any single guy about playing with girls - this includes the guys who play with us or random groups of guys just jumping in the game.

Inside the rec center while we play, a group of hot 20-30s girls are taking bellydancing class. Every now and again it is nice to peer over and see booties and bellies shaking. An average looking girl moves into above-average range when she is bellydancing or playing beach volleyball. That is a scientific fact, the same as how all objects fall to the earth at a rate of 9.8 ft per second.

On the other court, there about 20 hispanic kids, boys/girls age range 6-12 all doing some sort of organized basketball training with a full-on coach. The sidelines are filled with parents, younger siblings, dogs, etc, just watching. I assume this group was there from about 7-9 last night. The kids weren't playing games. They were doing drills. And from what I saw, enjoying it. At some point, they were cheering for one another while doing a shooting drill. After the practice was over, I was sitting out a game and shooting baskets on an empty court. The kids ran over and just started shooting more baskets on my court. They were loving basketball and speaking a mixture of Spanish and English.

In looking at the parents, I couldn't figure out what these folks did for a living. But they gave off a distinctly middle-class vibe. They were certainly not rich - they were using a public court, after all. The parents looked first generation and Spanish was clearly their first language. But they certainly weren't poor, either, as they had grouped together and hired a coach. Further, the familial support network was impressive. It wasn't just one family. It was a community of families all watching and supporting their kids getting trained in basketball - and it was both boys and girls. And while the kids crowded my court and just started shooting around, the thought occurred to me: all of these kids are going to college. Why? Because on a Wednesday night they are out practicing, doing basketball drills with a coach. The families were there, supporting their kids and one another. This was not an underclass engaging in negative behavior. This was a group of families investing in their children. And these kids were bold and disciplined and were having a good time. When they started shooting hoops on my court, my only option was stay out of their way. And I figure that's a metaphor for their future.