Kenneth Coles For Flip-Flops
Some 30,000 feet over the Pacific Ocean, Hawaiian Airlines flight #3 carries me westward towards Honalulu, then Kauai. Because I’m alone, it’s almost like it’s not happening. Despite the 300+ passengers dozing around me, I feel like a tree in an empty forest. It’ll be real when I get there, on the patio with a beer, and watch the sun fall over Asia. Pretty unbelieveble.
L.A. was, as always, repulsive and seductive simultaneously, not unlike my original response to New York City. It’s a sprawling, incohesive town, with mismatched architecture, empty sidewalks, and crowded seats. It’s surrounded by the beauty of mountains and sea which are typically invisible for the fog. I’m not sure how long I could do it, but the opportunity is too great to never try. Like a solid stint in New York City, I think the well-rounded American urban experience must include time in L.A. So, we’ll see. It’s a pesky mistress, always tugging at my sleeve, “Remember me? Imagine who you could be here? What you could do?”
These and other thoughts of Big Careers and Life Decisions, of course, are to be put on hold just as soon as I touch down, trade the Kenneth Coles for the flip-flops, and settle into an unharried, peaceful tranquility.