When I first moved to Los Angeles in the late ‘90s, I was adopted by a group of fellow Texans. We were a scrappy crew of ex-pats trying to make sense of what sometimes felt like a foreign country.
Back home, friends and family joked that California was full of “fruits and nuts.” Which suited us fruity, nutty refugees from the Lone Star State just fine.
We gravitated toward each other. Shared accents. Familiar humor. Easy shorthand of people who grew up eating the same type of barbecue. And my new Texas crew had one especially endearing quality. They made plans and kept them. “Dinner next week” meant dinner next week. Even a casual “maybe” carried genuine weight. These were people you could set your watch by.
Over the years, my social circle has contracted and expanded, as social circles tend to do. Slowly but surely, I’ve gotten to know, like, and even love plenty of non-Texans. Most of them are wonderful people, even if they do have a different relationship with their calendar and watch than I do.
In Los Angeles, plans tend to be aspirational and tentative.
People mean well, but don’t always follow through.
So many fruits. So many nuts. So many squirrels.
So I treat most plans as moving targets. I have friends I've been trying to see for ages, but the stars haven't yet aligned.
It's the reality of living in a city where work can be feast or famine, traffic can make even the biggest social butterfly stay home, and most friends are scattered at least forty-five minutes away in every direction.
Dinner tonight becomes drinks tomorrow. Something pops up tomorrow. “Let’s try again soon. Maybe next week?”
And honestly? That’s okay. Mostly.
Part of living here, and most places I’d choose to live, is mastering the art of flexible planning. I pencil plans into my calendar and try not to be surprised when they get changed or erased completely.
I trust that the right moments and the right people will find their way to me.
Being an only child, I’ve always been good at entertaining myself. I genuinely like my own company. So I don’t spend time with people out of obligation. I spend time with others because I want to. And the best friendships, for me, are easy and unhurried, even when our schedules are anything but.
Plans get rescheduled. Sometimes more than once.
Eventually, something happens. Or it doesn’t.
Either way, it’s all right. Mostly.
Because when the stars align and the 210, 101, and 405 cooperate, the right people end up across the table, and the conversation picks up exactly where it left off.
Which, when you think about it, is the whole point of making plans in the first place. Right? Right….
Keep calm and keep trying!
Clint 🌈✌️
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MAN CRUSH OF THE DAY
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Interesting take on parts of the country differences. I wonder where the Midwest would fall. One of my experiences in Mexico is that to refuse an invitation is rude, so you accept, and then just don't show up or follow through or cancel last minute! Now to me, that is RUDE! Fondly, Michael
Well Clint, I'm part of the go with the flow mentality, BUT, I'm always on time (irritating to some😲) and I expect that in others, sorta mixed messages I guess 😎 but hey ho. Cheers DougT 🏴🇬🇧