By JoEllen Collins
On the Friday of my recent trip to L.A., I found myself with a friend at a small but delightful concert at UCLA. It reminded me of Randy Newman’s paean to the city, “I Love L.A.” I heard him sing that here in Ketchum recently at the Argyros, and I felt like singing along, as I used to with my two daughters on our way to the beach.
I know it is unpopular at this time in Idaho to extoll the virtues of almost anything Californian, but I must. I have lived here half of my life now, so I just might be entitled to also cherish Southern California and the city where I spent most of the first half finding exciting and productive for me.
Walking from the #7 parking lot by the sports facilities at UCLA was a challenge for one who had not been there in ages. Our concert was in Kerckhoff Hall, the center where most of my fellow students and I used to gather to flirt, socialize or attend meetings. The building near it was named Ackerman Hall in honor of the man in charge of extracurricular activities way back when. I felt at home. My days at Occidental College and then at UCLA were wonderful for me. Rose-colored glasses accepted as a possibility, I was able to recreate my joy and pride when hearing these students sing a cappella in the tiny and beautiful chapel.
How many opportunities I have had that both of those institutions provided me! When I returned to UCLA after teaching for eight years, I couldn’t believe how good it felt to study in the cubicles of the English Resource Center and rest amidst the courtyard’s jacaranda trees. My M.A. seemed almost easy after the years of teaching English and correcting thousands of papers at Santa Monica High School.
Though it’s been fun to cheer on my alma mater over the years, I really love L.A. for the number of good friends I have known and visit in that part of the country. Being with my hosts, two people I first met on my honeymoon, can be likened in a rather corny way to snuggling in a warm blanket. Our friendship and those of people I have known for decades will always be in my happy plans to see.
I shared a lunch given by my hostess with several women I don’t see very often. The feeling, however, is probably familiar to most of you who “go home” occasionally. It is as though, despite grey hair and changing lives, we still felt as though we belonged there, at that place and event. I didn’t want the time to end, but I am doubly fortunate to live near others I respect and love, to have settled in the gorgeous valley we share as Idahoans, long-timers or new.
While I miss the ocean, I can look at the mountains right here and greet my Idaho neighbors and friends with appreciation and joy.