Writer's Diary
8/15/24
Last night in LA before heading back to New York; sequestered in the hotel room after dinner and drinks. We had a pleasant time here—there’s really not much to do here for members of my caste (culture/infotaintment producers) other than take ‘meetings’ and have dinner and hang out by the hotel pool. Have sex. See if there’s anything going on. Often there’s nothing; people go to bed early. LA in 2024 can’t I presume the resemble the LA of even 2004: Instagram and Uber and Zoom have bind the city together—only movement between the autonomous neighborhoods; there’s really not much reason to go out—unless there’s a good reason. It’s interesting; I didn’t mind it; but I wouldn’t live here because I couldn’t… which is not to say that New York City is perfect, or that it doesn’t reflect our techno-mis (better than dis I think) utopia… but that you can integrate yourself into city life, still, there, without a phone—like in Europe. The West is so much bigger, so much more spread out; it’s not hard to see why the West is the tech coast: tech binds these wide spaces together. Another way to put it: I’ve only been able to have a nice time because I spent years of Marriott points on a nice hotel; I can afford about 4 nice days here; if you don’t have a pool and room service and a rental car… then it’s just tense and hot and even pointless. But I’m sure I’m missing things. Tonight S and I had a nice time with two friends we met last month in New York; we went to a bar that was described as the Clandestino New York, but it didn’t remind me of Clando at all—more like a Bedstuy wine bar. But that’s OKAY too. Apparently Clando isn’t Clando anymore; there’s a new bar on Canal called TimeAgain that has that 2022 energy: people pooling, sprawling on the streets, all making aggressive eye-contact, examining attractiveness and clout. LA is too shy for that really—that Manhattan type of kinetic human motion; people here need hair and makeup and a camera; the human eye doesn’t active much. I think that’s what I miss: the activating eye of New York’s human traffic.