My brother from another publication.
It’s been a year with JIMBO TIMES, which means it’s been over a year since we sat down to conspire The Beat at Davis together.
Yet even a year later, I can still see myself peddling my bicycle through the sleepy streets of the town. Free of traffic, with the wind in my face and music charging through my eardrums, I can see myself racing past the train tracks on J Street, passing by Delta of Venus on 3rd, and charging into the open quad on campus, determined to find or be found by something through all of the nothing.
Today, I look at the people peddling on the streets of L.A., and it’s a completely different universe for the bicycle. While L.A. is a dreamland of endless concrete and asphalt, it’s also teeming with people and cars at every other turn, making it so that perhaps the only time to ride freely through the city is when there’s a bike festival in town, or at 4 in the morning when the town slows down for a few hours.
For this, L.A. has a lot to learn from little ole Davis up north, where things are simply more sustainable, and as I continue with life here, I know I’ll borrow a lot from what I saw at our school; I’m like one of the blue jays or squirrels which skipped through the bushes on campus, who got lost in Davis before being returned to the homeland in SoCal.
Naturally, it’s more challenging to make something sustainable here: L.A. has over 10 million people compared to Davis’s 76,000, but I’m one little creature of 10 million who’s determined to take what I made of the pastures and fields at Davis and burrow it into my home here.
And that’s the thing: a year later, it’s clear that JIMBO TIMES is dedicated to a more sustainable life in the city it comes from. Since the website’s conception, I’ve written of, spoken on, and worked with people to inspire a state of mind which respects the sensitivities of the environment around us, wherever we are. As I’ve shared with you before, it’s a vision I hope to inspire for the kids more than anyone else, and I’m still holding on to the sheet-thin rims of its brilliant reverberating light.
I’m like Spider-man flying past the whisking palm trees that kiss L.A.’s skylines, except that I’m the local neighborhood Writer-man, and while at the end of the day I might not be able to save my city from its ultimate demise, I’ll be damned if I don’t try my absolute most to inspire just one another mind to stand up for a better world here.
It’s a wild vision, but wild envisioning is what this town was founded on, and I’d be remiss as an L.A. aficionado to skip out on my own little opportunity to fantasize about what to remake of a city that’s constantly remaking itself.
As the days pass for you in Fargo, what do you make of your home back in the bay since you left? And Davis? Do you see a connection, or have you migrated with the seasons into a place from which you want to find even more alternative homes for yourself?
As I imagine you’ve gathered by now, we’re all a type of bird, and we’re all searching for something other than what the eyes let on.
With Love from Los Angeles,