Randy R wrote:Jenise wrote:If you wonder what's happened to the OC since you left, go rent the movie Orange County. It's pretty accurate, and it's a scream to boot.
John Wayne International Airport says it all. I only hope that the Korean nukes are pointed at Disneyland first. Had Germany occupied OC in the 1960's, they'd never have had a problem with collaboration, and I am not joking. I remember being refused car insurance on sight ("Get out of this office, now!"). Any blacks I would meet would say, "Get the idea? That's how it is for us all the time." OC may have changed, but in those days it was one click away from Nazi Germany.
Bob and I met and married when we both lived and worked in Irvine, the city that may optimize OC's upwardly mobile rigidity more than any other in that county. And one night we went to Pasadena for dinner at Yujean Kang's. Next to us was a gay Chinese guy in long flowing multi-colored satin robes with a mohawk haircut and more neck chains than Mr. T. Across from him, a (presumably) lesbian couple. And on the other side of us, a country clubby couple of post-retirement age, he in a complete Thurston Howell IIII commodore-like outfit of white slacks, navy blazer with gold buttons and the requisite cap with gold braid. With them was a boy, obviously a grandson. Fantastic looking, diverse characters all, dining together homogenously, getting along swell. The next night we ate out in Irvine where as usual, to a man, everybody looked just like us, except for a family with a palsied child, about whom the icey Breck blonde at a nearby table exclaimed loudly that the sight of made her sick to her stomach. She added something like, "They shouldn't let those people out." Now when I was about 15, I saw the singer-songwriter Paul Williams on Johnny Carson, and Johnny asked Paul first where he grew up (Omaha, Nebraska) and second when did he leave. "When I found out I was living there," Paul answered hilariously. Well, that's the night I found out I was living in Orange County.
Such was our disgust over such things and so much did we long for the other that we were looking to move into the Pasadena area--we already had a real estate agent, were looking at houses--when the transfer to Alaska came up and ended those plans. When we moved back, I refused to step one foot further south "behind the Orange curtain" as many referred to the very thing you note, than Huntington Beach.