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East/West Smackdown

Published in the Los Angeles Times on April 18, 2002

Cover story for Calendar section in which I go head-to-head with a die-hard Westsider over the comparative merits of our ‘hoods. It gets nasty. Generated a ton of response from readers, many of whom didn’t quite get our intended cheekiness.

A Westsider and an Eastsider go 12 rounds to see which area can claim supremacy.

BY CHRISTOPHER NOXON AND LESLEE KOMAIKO

There are more splits in the city of Los Angeles than at an Olympic gymnastic competition. There are rich and poor. City folks and Valley dwellers. Those who work in entertainment and those the trade papers call “non-pros.” And, of course, there are enough ethnicities and religions to make the L.A. County census look like a work of theoretical physics.

There’s also a much blurrier, but equally contentious, divide: between Westside and Eastside. It’s a tricky split to define. Everyone draws his own boundaries. And the points of contention can seem downright silly to those who live in South-Central, Northridge or San Pedro. But to many who live in places such as Los Feliz or Santa Monica, the distinctions prompt raging debate. Westsiders gripe about the smog and cooler-than-thou attitude east of La Brea Avenue. Eastsiders moan about the superficiality and SUV traffic jams near the ocean. Such opinions typically are expressed privately, in the company of like-minded neighbors.

It’s time to get this out in the open. It’s time to take off the gloves. It’s time for a smackdown.

Taking our cue from those masters of rhetoric at the World Wrestling Federation, we present a 12-round grudge match between a die-hard Eastsider and an equally impassioned Westsider. Christopher “Boom Boom” Noxon lives a few blocks from his childhood home in Los Feliz and feels like a stranger in a strange land when he goes west of Robertson Boulevard. Leslee “The Terminator” Komaiko was raised in Westwood, lives in Santa Monica and says the Eastside is a whole lot of hype.

Round 1: Identity

Is the Eastside an ugly stepsister?

Leslee: Let’s start with this: The Westside is Los Angeles. It is the public face of our city, and it is why people come here. Not that tourists are the ultimate arbiters of taste, but it’s worth noting that most of them stay on the Westside. Sun, surf, palm trees—this is the California dream. What you guys have on the Eastside is wannabe New York. And what’s up with the vintage clothing, tattoos and sullen ‘tude? Are they mandatory Eastside issue? Your cool is so practiced and cultivated. Ours is effortless. It’s as simple as jeans and a tee and flip-flops. No wonder Westsiders are a generally happier bunch. Life is good over here. Life, in fact, is better.

Christopher: First off, thanks for so succinctly articulating why all the sullen, sun-starved Eastsiders choose to live where we do: to get away from the deluded likes of you. Your sun-and-surf Baywatch fantasy may excite clueless out-of-towners, but over here it sounds like a whole lot of bland, bubble-headed hooey. And what’s this about effortless cool? All the Beverly Hills cosmetic surgeons and Brentwood exercise mills tell a very different story. While you’re all madly scrambling to realize your precious California dream, we Eastsiders are busy living our real lives, thanks very much.

Round 2: Neighborhoods

Is the Westside a sea of sameness?

Christopher: When it comes to neighborhoods, we Eastsiders have you begging for mercy under the heels of our boots. You’ve heard of neighborhoods, haven’t you? Despite a few pockets of difference, the Westside is a vast grid of the similar. Over here, you’ll find dozens of thriving communities, each with its own flavor. One day tooling around the Eastside might take you to Koreatown, Little Armenia or Thai Town or down avenues of neon-topped townhouses or through districts where all the ethnicities, classes and styles of architecture get lost in a fantastic jumble. We celebrate those differences. You Westsiders like your hometown like you like your fast food—dependable but flavorless.

Leslee: Apparently your perceptive abilities come to a screeching halt at La Brea. Last I checked, Culver City, the Pacific Palisades, Beverly Hills and Venice weren’t easily confused, not to mention Sawtelle’s Japan Town and Westwood Boulevard’s Little Persia. Might I suggest you invest in a Thomas Guide? Or a brain? Or run for office. Seems your “we are the world” speech is already written. P.S. May you choke on your next Tito’s taco. Flavorless my all-natural, non-enhanced C cups.

Round 3: Outdoors

Are Eastsiders nature-starved urbanites?

Leslee: You’ve got Griffith Park, a decent enough patch of grass with its impressive observatory. Wait. That’s closed. There’s also charming MacArthur Park. (At our parks the only transactions going on are between the kids and the ice cream truck driver.) I’ll even toss you Runyon Canyon. But none of this compares to the Pacific and all its attendant goodness: miles of bike paths, outrageous sunsets, endless views from Santa Monica Mountains hiking trails, sandcastle opportunities, the Venice canals, beautiful tanned and shirtless boys showing off their ripped abs. Ever try to surf Silver Lake? Good luck, sucka. Buy yourself a conch shell and take a bath, ‘cause that’s as close as you’re gonna get.

Christopher: That patch of grass you so quickly dismiss happens to be 4,100 acres, the largest urban park in America. And I think you’re forgetting something in your rosy view of the Pacific’s blessings: pollution-related illnesses like dysentery and diarrhea. We’ll stick to Echo Park, nearby Angeles National Forest and perhaps the best outdoor venue in all Los Angeles: Dodger Stadium. Have fun ogling the sweaty abs (ick, by the way); we’ll be in the bleachers with a beer and a Dodger Dog.

Round 4: Culture

Are Westsiders cultural heathens?

Christopher: Save us both some trouble and curl up right now and cry like the baby you are, because we Eastsiders have got you beat bad here. I understand you’re proud of that big beige museum on the hill—you know the one, where tourists go to check out the view instead of the art—but unless you count breast enhancements or those airbrush murals they put on surfboards, fine art just ain’t a Westside specialty. Out East, we’ve got the major museums (LACMA, MOCA), stellar music venues (the Hollywood Bowl, the Music Center), world-class live theater (the Ahmanson, the L.A. Theater Center) and countless more cultural hot spots (the American Cinematheque, the Central Library, galleries in Echo Park and on Chung King Road). While you Westsiders may equate culture with the new-releases section at Blockbuster, we Eastsiders enjoy a cultural diet rich in the finer things.

Leslee: Get over yourself. To most Eastsiders, culture means having a Corona at Spaceland. Sure, you have some primo cultural institutions, but we’re not exactly hurting in that department. In addition to the Getty, which you were kind enough to mention, there’s the Santa Monica Museum of Art, the Geffen Playhouse, the Wadsworth Theater, the Skirball Center, plus sleepers like Beyond Baroque, the Museum of Jurassic Technology and Highways. In sum, we have more culture than Yoplait.

Round 5: Dining

Do Eastsiders know the meaning of haute cuisine?

Leslee: Why did the Westsider cross the road? For dim sum. That’s about it. The most recent Zagat survey (notably by the people, for the people) puts the city’s best American, best brunch, best breakfast, best Japanese, best Italian, best French, best Greek, best Indian, best Middle Eastern, best pizza, best steakhouse, best vegetarian—need I continue?—all on the Westside.

You can’t touch Josie’s quiche, Nate ‘n Al’s lima bean soup, Bay Cities’ submarine sandwiches, Stan’s doughnuts or the perfect elegance of a patio table at the Hotel Bel-Air, not to mention the cheese at the Beverly Hills Cheese Shop and the fish at Santa Monica Seafood. In sum, we have better restaurants, better chefs and better food purveyors. Tell that to your king of weird meats and unpronounceable comestibles, Jonathan Gold. He can wave his pompoms all he likes. We still pack more flavor.

Christopher: Put that flimsy Zagat away, girl. Every self-respecting foodie knows that Zagat is about as important to food as Cliffs Notes are to great literature. Don’t kid yourself—most Westside joints dish out overpriced knockoffs of food you can get better and with much less attitude here. You want fancy eats? Try Patina, Musso & Frank, Ciudad, Vida, Les Deux Cafe or Water Grill. And another thing: Say what you want about weird meats, but don’t mess with Jonathan Gold. You are but a slobbering jester in his culinary court.

Round 6: Getting Around

Are Westsiders ocean-locked losers without a clue?

Christopher: Gridlock has got us both in a stranglehold. But getting around the Eastside does have its advantages. For one thing, we’ve got a subway so fast and spiffy that it almost makes us forget its utter impracticality for day-to-day travel. More important, however, is the fact that we’re simply closer to more of what makes L.A. special. From here you can make a relatively quick trip to the Huntington Botanical Gardens or Watts Towers or the Burbank Bob’s Big Boy without breaking a sweat. Any one of those trips would prompt nervous twitches and the installation of a global positioning system for a typical Westsider. Because we don’t have that big blue barrier hemming us in on one side (I think you call it an ocean), we’re never too far from what makes Los Angeles so vibrant and fascinating.

Leslee: Oh yes, Burbank Bob’s Big Boy: Isn’t that one of the seven wonders of the world? Gimme a break. And that subway? Drew Carey’s treadmill probably sees more use. Over here there’s Highway 1, the most awesome drive in the city, as well as Sunset Boulevard from the Strip to the ocean, the second-most awesome drive. Figure in a few bike paths and clearly you’re the sorry one.

Round 7: Shopping

Is “Eastside shopping” an oxymoron?

Leslee: Remember on “Let’s Make a Deal” when the contestant would pick curtain No. 3 hoping for the shiny new car and instead get a goat? That’s Eastside shopping. Call us materialistic, but we’ve got the goods. In addition to a handful of malls and department stores ranging from Neiman’s to Target where they actually sell stuff one needs—you have to commute to buy your tighty whities!—the Westside is home to the city’s reigning shopping streets: Montana Avenue for linens and housewares, Main Street for beach gear, Robertson Boulevard for designer duds, Melrose Avenue for art and shoes, Abbot Kinney Boulevard for mid-century furniture, Rodeo Drive for bejeweled baubles. Destination bookshops like Hennessey & Ingalls and Heritage are also on our side. I challenge you to name something we can’t buy over here, something anyone would want, that is. (I’ll pass on the Los Angeles Zoo souvenir cap, thank you.)

Christopher: Remember on “Let’s Make a Deal” when Monty Hall’s evil twin Melvin locked all the doors and everyone was trapped with piles of crappy appliances and an unruly goat? That’s Westside shopping. Over here we’re happy the retail goliaths are close enough to visit but far enough away that they don’t devour our souls. Instead we’ve got the best local clothing designers (Sirens & Sailors, Andrew Dibbens), great flea markets and botanicas and entire districts devoted to jewelry, toys, flowers and fabric.

Round 8: Night Life

Is the Westside a black hole after dark?

Christopher: Yet again, your feeble attempts to measure up barely merit mention. Night life on the Westside? After you’ve lapped up a lite beer at a seaside sports bar, the picking is thin, which is why so many of you flee 310 when night falls. Hollywood’s Cahuenga Corridor alone contains a city’s worth of great spots (Daddy’s, Deep, Star Shoes). Meanwhile there are plenty more great bars (the Red Lion, the Bigfoot Lodge), superior venues for concerts and plays (the El Rey, the Wiltern, the Pantages), a wide selection of comedy clubs (the Groundlings, the Laugh Factory, the Hollywood Improv) and a teeming dance scene that includes everything from flashy flamenco at the Mayan to ecstatic electronic at Circus Disco. Bottom line? The only sure-fire way to have a great night on the Westside is to spend the first part of it driving east.

Leslee: I’m going to teach you some respect. We don’t wanna drive east, and we don’t have to. Why bother when the Troubadour, the Viper Room, the Roxy, the Mint, Harvelle’s, McCabe’s, the Jazz Bakery, Circle Bar, Largo, Sugar, plus all the boys’ clubs are over here? There’s also all sorts of free, fun p.m. activities like the Santa Monica Pier summer music series, grunion watching and the Friday night skate through Santa Monica. As for those three comedy clubs you mentioned, I’d say they belong to us. Nice try, Boom Boom.

Round 9: Air

How do Eastsiders breathe?

Leslee: You want to lay claim to something? How about being the birthplace of smog, 60-plus years ago. Congratulations. And you’re still—cough—going strong. Might as well enjoy a celebratory smoke. The damage is already done.

Christopher: To hear Westsiders tell it, perfumed breezes west of the 405 Freeway carry magic fairy dust and the Eastside is an industrial ghetto downwind from Chernobyl. Try to get this into your sun-scorched head: Our air is not that bad. And yours is not that good.

Round 10: Public Radio

Is Westside public radio more than the bloated pet of moneyed liberals?

Christopher: There’s no better example of the vast chasm between the East- and Westsides than the difference between our public radio stations. Admittedly, most of us listen to Santa Monica-based KCRW-FM (89.9) as much as we do to Pasadena-based KPCC-FM (89.3). But we’re constantly reminded of—and deeply irritated by—how much KCRW exemplifies the Westside.

Slick, calculated and stinking of liberal entitlement, KCRW feels less like a public resource than a lifestyle accessory for the Range Rover mommies sipping Starbucks on Montana Avenue before spinning class. Sure, none of our public radio stations can touch KCRW when it comes to funding or original programming. But we much prefer KPCC’s earnest “Air Talk” over more insufferable nagging from KCRW station manager Ruth Seymour, endless cheesy promos for lavish trips we’ll never take or yet another awkward interview with a French “turntablist” or some such on “Morning Becomes Eclectic.”

Leslee: First off, those Range Rover mommies aren’t listening to the radio. They’re talking on their cell phones, stupid. Now that that’s cleared up, back to battle. No doubt Seymour could never find work as a 976 operator. The silken purr eludes her. But she has managed to assemble a mighty team of smart hosts such as Warren Olney and dope DJs like Garth Trinidad, making KCRW the best-known public radio station in the country. Besides, her voice is seldom heard. Alas, the same can’t be said about Kitty Felde—whose name is “Kitty,” anyway?—KPCC’s interminably cheery afternoon host with the irrepressible giggle. Larry Mantle of “Air Talk” is another matter. He just might be the Eastside’s best feature. And that’s all the love you’re getting.

Round 11: Basics

When it comes to important services like medical care and schools, is the Eastside lacking?

Leslee: Ready for a face full of mat? ‘Cause you’re going down. And when you do, you’ll be needing an M.D. Who you gonna call? Your Westside doc. You know the one—he’s right down the street from your Westside dentist, at places likes UCLA, Cedars-Sinai, St. John’s. You have Kaiser. Our schools are also superior. In Santa Monica, Beverly Hills, Malibu, the Pacific Palisades, Topanga and parts of West Los Angeles, the public schools are actually draws. With few exceptions, your dilapidated mills of lowest-common-denominator learning simply can’t compete. And we’re not even talking about the Brentwoods and Crossroads, Harvard-Westlakes and Marymounts. When it comes to the stuff that really matters, your ‘hood is about as attractive as a half-used bar of soap in a gas station john.

Christopher: Overexposure to the sun has apparently done more than add years to your face. That’s the expert opinion of physicians from all over the Eastside, from Childrens Hospital to Good Samaritan (where Westside heroine Madonna delivered her last baby, by the way). And while you seem certain the only good education is an expensive one, students at excellent public and private Eastside schools like Ivanhoe, 3rd Street Elementary, the Oaks and Temple Israel know better.

Round 12: Housing

Do Westsiders pay more for less?

Christopher: There’s one main reason why the Westside is so completely outclassed by the East: housing. Checked out any open houses in Santa Monica lately? The idea of a million-dollar stucco bungalow built for factory-floor aerospace workers would be laughable if it wasn’t so depressing. For about half that fortune you can buy a Victorian mansion in Highland Park, a spacious Spanish in Eagle Rock or a landmark modern in Silver Lake. And while West L.A. working stiffs don’t think twice forking over a third of their income in rent, less affluent Eastsiders live like royalty in grand Wilshire district townhouses or Los Feliz duplexes. The variety and affordability mean a broader range of people live and work here, which makes life far more interesting for all of us.

Leslee: You know why people pay a premium to live on the Westside? Because it’s worth it. I’m sorry your envy has made you so angry. I think there’s a place for rent down the street. You can call me for the details. I promise I won’t tell a soul.

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