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We are the change we've been waiting for
Feb. 4th, 2008 | 9:53 pm
It's L.A..
Anything goes and no one cares.
Last Saturday while walking Little Dog in my neighborhood, I saw a man, naked except for black leather
chaps and a g-string, hanging out at a phone booth. A couple of streets later, I passed an old lady pushing
a baby stroller full of beer cans. Then I turned the corner and saw a pair of coyotes trotting around a vacant
lot. Yes, real coyotes. We walked on.
A guy walking his own dog half a block in front of me never broke his pace or turned his head to look at any
of it...Leather Man, Baby Beer Cans, or vicious wild animals. It's just part of the background in our jaded,
insular, apathetic city. Not even fire conjures up a buzz or merits a glance. During one Santa Ana season, I
remember coming out of a Target in Burbank and seeing the entire mountain in front of the store in flames,
yet people still pushed their red carts of diet Coke and toilet paper breezily around the parking lot.
The one thing Angelenos do notice, however, is rain. It doesn't rain much in Los Angeles, and when it
does, it's news. We get two drops and suddenly we're launched into Storm Watch 2008. Throw in a gust of
wind and we're at Threat Level Midnight. People stay indoors, call in sick to work, stay off the roads. They
don't leave their houses. They might get wet. There might be flooding, a mud slide, accidents making the
freeways even worse.
This Superbowl Sunday morning the rain came. It was a cold rain. And people had good reasons to stay
home: The roads were dangerous. The big game was on.
But thousands of people, of Angelenos, didn't stay home.
We clapped until our hands stung and then our fists pumped the air. We shouted "Yes we can" and "Si se
puede" until our throats hurt. So thrilled with the speakers and what they were saying, we couldn't contain
ourselves. We danced and sang acapella with Stevie Wonder. We shared signs that said "HOPE."
When Maria Shriver asked how many of us were at a campaign rally for the first time, most of us raised our
hands. When Caroline Kennedy urged us to "step out of your lives and into this moment in history," we
knew we were already there. Oprah inspired us with a few words, not new cars. Michelle Obama made us
realize that a first lady can be lovingly fierce, brilliant, and feminine.
There's been a lot of talk of change lately. But the change has already happened and it is intoxicating. We
took notice and got wet. We cared. We hoped.
When we emerged from Pauley Pavilion, as if from a dream, the sun was so historically bright, it hurt.
Comments
Feb. 4th, 2008 | 9:53 pm
It's L.A..
Anything goes and no one cares.
Last Saturday while walking Little Dog in my neighborhood, I saw a man, naked except for black leather
chaps and a g-string, hanging out at a phone booth. A couple of streets later, I passed an old lady pushing
a baby stroller full of beer cans. Then I turned the corner and saw a pair of coyotes trotting around a vacant
lot. Yes, real coyotes. We walked on.
A guy walking his own dog half a block in front of me never broke his pace or turned his head to look at any
of it...Leather Man, Baby Beer Cans, or vicious wild animals. It's just part of the background in our jaded,
insular, apathetic city. Not even fire conjures up a buzz or merits a glance. During one Santa Ana season, I
remember coming out of a Target in Burbank and seeing the entire mountain in front of the store in flames,
yet people still pushed their red carts of diet Coke and toilet paper breezily around the parking lot.
The one thing Angelenos do notice, however, is rain. It doesn't rain much in Los Angeles, and when it
does, it's news. We get two drops and suddenly we're launched into Storm Watch 2008. Throw in a gust of
wind and we're at Threat Level Midnight. People stay indoors, call in sick to work, stay off the roads. They
don't leave their houses. They might get wet. There might be flooding, a mud slide, accidents making the
freeways even worse.
This Superbowl Sunday morning the rain came. It was a cold rain. And people had good reasons to stay
home: The roads were dangerous. The big game was on.
But thousands of people, of Angelenos, didn't stay home.
- We showed up to Pauley Pavilion, the U.
C.L.A. Bruin's basketball arena in
Westwood, in peaceful droves under
umbrellas and rain ponchos. We were
families, old couples dressed for
church, students in hoodies, babies
bundled up. We were courteous, patient,
and among the energy and enthusiasm
of a Christmas morning.
- We talked to people we didn't know. We
looked each other in the eyes and
smiled. We became "we." Where was
our alienation? Our apathy? Our fear?
We clapped until our hands stung and then our fists pumped the air. We shouted "Yes we can" and "Si se
puede" until our throats hurt. So thrilled with the speakers and what they were saying, we couldn't contain
ourselves. We danced and sang acapella with Stevie Wonder. We shared signs that said "HOPE."
When Maria Shriver asked how many of us were at a campaign rally for the first time, most of us raised our
hands. When Caroline Kennedy urged us to "step out of your lives and into this moment in history," we
knew we were already there. Oprah inspired us with a few words, not new cars. Michelle Obama made us
realize that a first lady can be lovingly fierce, brilliant, and feminine.
There's been a lot of talk of change lately. But the change has already happened and it is intoxicating. We
took notice and got wet. We cared. We hoped.
When we emerged from Pauley Pavilion, as if from a dream, the sun was so historically bright, it hurt.
Comments
