Passing by: A Note for Los Angeles

What do you know about the place that you live in? Who are the people there? Does it matter? Are you living where you are just for you, or are you there for others too? And what should others know about the place you call home, and why is it important for them to know? If there was one moment to speak to it all, what would it sound like?

I wish I could meet all of you. Every small business owner, every unhoused Angeleno, every student in L.A., every car-washer, every teacher, every car shop repairman, every doctor and nurse, and more.

I wish I could meet all of the counselors and social workers, all of the judges and public attorneys, all those working in the non-profit sector, and more.

I wish I could meet every firefighter, and every police officer, and very construction worker, and every other city employee here, too. I wish I could also meet every security guard, every store clerk, and every custodian.

And I wish I could meet all the gas station clerks, all the entrepreneurs and startup founders, and the rest of the visionaries

community in Los Angeles. And I wish I could meet every city planner, every historian, and of course, every librarian.

I wish I could meet all the janitors, all the housekeepers, and all the babysitters in L.A. And I wish I could meet every curator, every tour guide, and the rest of the chaperone community here. I wish I could meet every aspiring musician, every bus-driver, every skater, and every yoga instructor, boxer, and personal trainer in town, as well.

I also wish I could meet every barista, every chef, and every parking attendant, too. Every actor, filmmaker, and screenwriter, and even every massage therapist, every antique seller, every magician, and more.

I wish I could meet every paramedic, mortician, and every therapist in L.A. And I wish I could meet every UPS driver, and every USPS driver, and every Fedex person, and even every telemarketer too, every fortune teller. The Scientologists, too.

Then I wish I could meet all the graffiti writers, and all the gardeners, and all the grocery attendants here. And then I wish I could meet all the authors, all the photographers, and all the painters as well.

I definitely wish I could meet all the little ladies selling their tamales, and all the humble pobladores selling their paletas. Just like I wish I could meet every taco truck owner; if only there was one on every corner.

I wish we could all meet, really, and that we could all just walk together for a moment. We’re already out here together anyway, bumper to bumper, shoulder to shoulder, yet still occupying such different worlds.

Except that our worlds are not so different. And that meeting each other doesn’t have to be so difficult. All it is is a moment.

One breath, and a guess. Trust in the sky. And fly,

Thank you Los Angeles.

J.T.

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J.T.

Born and raised in the Los. Los Cuentos. J.T.

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