The Southern Californian Grass Fetish
I have often contemplated Southern California’s obsession with things that need a lot of water. The grassy lawn, not a local species of tree, is the area’s status symbol.
I have often contemplated Southern California’s obsession with things that need a lot of water. The grassy lawn, not a local species of tree, is the area’s status symbol.
When I walked along Pennsylvania Avenue on my way to work last spring, I was more captivated by the big white structure Concepcion faced than her makeshift white plastic tent. I dismissed her encampment as quickly as I did the graphic anti-choice abortion trucks that cruise D.C., without the annoyed disgust.
I don’t care if they’re 100% recyclable; at Claremont McKenna, recycling them shouldn’t even be an option because we shouldn’t have them in the first place.
All week, the Port Side has been hearing snippets of conversations about big changes going on at Scripps’s Motley at the View.
Though details are not yet available…
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