Monday, March 5, 2012

The Venetian

I notice I acquired a new blog follower recently, an investigative reporter no less. I believe this presents one of three scenarios. 1. She is currently working on a piece about what is wrong with Generation Y and I am being cited as one of the chief reasons. 2. She is just a big fan of quality writing. 3. My conservative message is getting through and Fox is just supporting one of their own. In any event, welcome, now on with the post.

If I keep singing the praises of Venice, I'm sure my readers will likely bore, but I'm serious when I say that there is no place like it in the world. It is the only place I have ever lived where the people are a walking caricature of the stereotypes of which they are associated. Let me attempt to explain.

I have lived in Indianapolis, Chicago, Italy, Bloomington and now California. In Indianapolis an outsider might expect local pub talk to be about the season's crop yield and the current IRL standings. Now while I do not dismiss that people in Indianapolis have an affinity for racing, you won't see that many people out on the lake near where I grew up wearing Penske hats and chewing tobacco. Nor would you necessarily expect to see mass corruption on the streets of Chicago, laziness in Italy or heroin in Baltimore.

I understand that all stereotypes are based in some sort of truth. Chicago has had it's fair share of corrupt politicians and an out of town friend who has their entire opinion of Indianapolis based off of the Coke lot might think that their suspicions are validated. That said, while I use stereotypes because they are often humorous and taboo, I tend not to put much stalk in it. I've spent the last 10 years trying to defend the honor of Indianapolis and while the stereotype might not be as offensive as a Jew being cheap or black athletes being stupid, it is something I have attempted to thwart for many years...fucking Chicago kids.

Anyway, when I moved to LA, I knew that I wasn't in for daily celebrity sightings, blonde bombshells on the beach and a life of fun in the sun. In actuality the people you see at the beach are poor and unemployed, the only reason they go there is because it's free. And most of the people you see at Hollywood clubs are out of work actors blowing their barista tips or simply pissing away their trust funds because out here it is commonly accepted that perception is reality. This is why so many movie stars go broke and declare bankruptcy, because they have to keep the illusion alive.

Then there is Venice, completely unlike anything else in LA, it's a blue collar beach town policed by the bums that occupy its boardwalks and beaches. Lined by homeless street performers and shady "doctors," you probably won't find a more liberal square mile in America. Every hippie with a handful of brain cells left over from the 60's apparently spent the next 50 years slowly making their way down the coast from San Francisco to this eccentric neighborhood of Los Angeles.

At least this is what you would assume...well you would be completely right. For a while now I've felt like I'm kind of the bad boy in the blogosphere, at least the worst person you know. I say "fuck" and make drug innuendos and talk about women like they are objects invented so bros can have topics of conversation and high five in the morning...but the most raw moment of my life happened to me last night at 6pm outside my new house.

"Hey man, is there any stuff around here?"
This Bubbles looking motherfucker asked me as I parked my car. Now take into consideration I had just drank throughout the entire IU/Purdue game and taken a flask into Project X, I wasn't thinking that clearly, perhaps this would have been a tad more apparent to a sober version of myself.
"What stuff around here? Do you want money or something?"
"No I'm looking for some shit, it's supposed to be around this address."
"Like a fucking restaurant, a bar, a liquor store?"
"Looking for a fix man."

At this time my old black neighbor sprints out of his house with a broom and chases the 2 disheveled men away.
"GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOCK YOU GOD DAMN TWEAKERS! TYRONE DON'T LIVE HERE NO MORE."

At this point, I just really want to go inside and watch Eastbound and Down, but I have a vested interest in this story now, so who exactly is this man, and why did he just chase away the white men with cleaning supplies.

Well it turns out my neighbor is kind of the elder statesmen of the block, he has personally been trying to clean it up for a few years now. Kind of like if you recast the film Walking Tall with Danny Glover. And oh by the way, those dudes were looking for heroin, his son was their dealer before he kicked him out.

So this is like some real life "The Wire" shit. I have a heroin operation on my block, a watchful old man, who is protecting the streets, but I can't help but think it is the most ridiculous scenario in the world. This of course begs the question, can heroin addicts and bros coexist? Will a bunch of white kids drinking and blaring music until 5am upset the fragile balance that exists in Venice. Does this mean noise complaints are a thing of the past because the LAPD only fucks with Venice for homicides and massive drug operations? Why the fuck are there 9 wealthy 20something girls living in this complex if it isn't that safe? Will I have to join a gang?

It is unlikely that I will deal with any of this because of racial barriers and social norms. If you have read any books on the economics of crime, you will learn that it is highly unlikely for unprovoked attacks to happen to a non-gang affiliated non-minority person in an area of unrest...it's basically because the media will go apeshit about a white kid getting shanked by a Mexican gangbanger and that will in turn put pressure on the police to solve the crime. Thus, it is much easier to stab a rival gangbanger in a drug deal gone wrong because society gives much less of a shit about that homey.

I do like the stigma though that I kind of live in a rough area now, an area where people don't think twice about asking me where the heroin hook-up is, and as long as I'm 6'3, white and not alone I don't think I have much to worry about. Of much more paramount concern is when I am going to learn to surf and/or acquire a bicycle.

I do find myself wondering though when I see some of Venice's finest. What the fuck happened to this guy? Did he just get drunk one too many Sundays, call in sick one too many Monday's lose his job, beginning a downward spiral that resulted in this? Did these guys think once upon a time they were going to change the world but their partying got in the way of chasing life's dreams? Eh, they were probably crack babies are some shit, I don't mean to stereotype but the difference between being a bro and being homeless is that ability to toe the line between bender and addiction...some people are just born with it.

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