How we Lost the west

I traveled back to Lost Angeles on business and by "business," I mean keeping the one solid, dependable, honest mechanic I have ever met in my life in business through my continued support.  When I told him I moved a few hours away, he nodded his head and told me that someone who lives a half hour further than I do makes a weekend trip out of coming to see him.

That kind of talent is rare, I don't care what kind of business you are in. And I say this as someone who is in the position of hiring talent now and finding myself dismayed at the lack thereof. It's not that my bar is exceptionally high (God forbid) but the advertising portfolios I am being presented with suggest the industry is in trouble. Far more than it is willing to admit. And that is incredibly ominous considering we've been in a free-for-all for the better part of a decade.

I don't say this as some jaded asshole. I sincerely mean that I keep looking for any kind of talent, raw or otherwise, and I am not seeing it, and neither are my coworkers, cohorts and former colleagues in a position to hire people. Friends who work at different shops across the country are emailing on the regular asking if I know of someone who knows what the fuck they are doing. I know more than a few, but most of them are employed elsewhere or are freelancers who no longer anxious about finding work. Just as it is a seller's market, it's an employee's market, too. Good.  As Luke Sullivan, advertising's patron saint once told me, "You are grossly underpaid the first half of your career, and grossly overpaid the second half of your career." While I can say with certainty the second part is no longer true (the housing crisis killed that off) I am glad that the new blood entering the market won't have to put up with the shitty starting salary I did.

Getting back to L.A.– since moving away three months ago, I am dismayed at how much worse the poverty and homelessness, and crime has gotten. The city is in a free-for-all.

Don't believe me?  There is a cashier at a grocery store I pretty much went to every day. I affectionately nicknamed her punky Brewster because she has purple hair. A Gen Xer with a backstory, single mom who witnessed the Third Wave Ska movement firsthand. She's lovely. And never has a band word. But the riots from last year in Long Beach close to where she lives, hardened her attitude. And the severity of the homeless situation (and with it the crime) has made her downright angry.

Council-members can ignore the day-to-day because they live nowhere near it. But when I asked how things have been she angrily pointed out how in the past three weeks there have been three overdoses, one death, one murder and a bank that was firebombed "to get to the ATMs," all within walking distance of a respectable working to middle class neighborhood whose housing prices have skyrocketed. Tear-downs are a million dollars. Starters are nearly twice.

As I was driving down one of my old streets in Venice, I took a snapshot that is so emblematic of a failed city who promises dreams, and whose progressive policies let thousands die in the streets every year that it would be laughable were it not so tragic.

One of many, many, many new "unhoused," who have shown up from states all over the country, knowing laws won't be enforced. She is young probably in her late twenties. I assume relatively healthy, judging by her physique. Meth takes a quick turn, and thank God she hasn't gotten there yet.  I have no idea if she is mentally stable enough to find work, but let's say for a moment she is. And considering employers are all but begging people to work for them, promising higher wages and benefits and employee referrals, she's not on the street because of a lack of jobs. Even unskilled fast food jobs are topping more than 15 an hour. This woman could get a roommate and live in a fantastic part of town easily.  

The question we should be asking is, why isn't she? What went wrong in her home life that she ended up here? Or what normalcy did she reject in favor of a "free spirited life?" Although how freespirited is someone if they are an addict?

Other quesitons that spring to mind are was no one there to raise her? Was there a chance at teachable moments that she didn't take? Is it all the fault of her parents? Where she grew up? Was she spiritually bankrupt?  How did she get there?  

Almost everyone I've enountered on the street has a perfectly rehearsed hard-luck story that is usually one hundred percent bullshit. How do you reach people that way? How do you show them you care about them without enabling the situation that got them there in the first place? How do you recalibrate their mindset to show them they are capable of more than they ever thought possible?

But the problem with L.A. is, it doesn't ask questions. The "unhoused," are as inconsequential as the extras in the commercial shoot I was on the other week. They keep their backs to the camera. Because if they show their face, even in profile, they'd have to make more. And if they spoke up and used their voice, it would be even more money. Perhaps that's the L.A. mentality whether it realizes it or not.

Another thing L.A. doesn't do is offer help. For that, the city relies mostly on non government missions that are constantly overwhelmed and begging for money themselves ot stay afloat.

It is the exact same position that San Francisco was taking in the 1960's when flocks of runaway kids migrated to its cold, foggy streets. The difference is the folks in charge now were the ones who toppled The Man. back in the 60's. They are now fully responsible for this problem.

But they can get away with it here in Southern California, because they wear the Cloak of Progressivism. As long as they say the right things, as long as they throw money around to "study the problem," they aren't accountable for their inactivity, and so they aren't required to do anything meaningful. It's disgusting. People should be outraged. And these idiots should be shamed out of office. And hopefully, with the amount of local and state recall petitions circulating, it just might happen.

Note the other parts of that photo above. The ubiquitous movie poster. And the Lotto sign behind it. Both are fantasies that never deliver on their promises. And both attract the desperate year after year. And suck them into the black hole and then spit them out.

Whenever I go to L.A. I get angry. Not at the people living on the streets, although some of them should absolutely be jailed for stealing, assaulting and raping victims. No, I'm angry because this slow decline has gone on for more than the decade that I lived there. The pandemic made it worse, certainly. But there was no excuse before, and there's certainly no excuse after. Corruption, ineffectual leadership, and faulty ideology at odds with reality are solely to blame.

I didn't want to leave L.A.  The city pushed me, and thousands of others out. And with it, the tax dollars that at least acted as a thin bandage to stop the flow. And now, the leaders only have themsevles to blame.

The homeless don't get what they deserve. But the leaders sure do. And I hope they get what's coming to them soon, before more "extras" die on the street.