Dear Los Angeles,
It’s no mistake that I ended up living in this vast Playworld you call a city. Hundreds of hours of skate videos and countless reruns of Baywatch constantly called me to you. At the time I had no idea why I would move here or what I would do, but I knew my heart was screaming for California.
For the past twelve years, I’ve been proud to call you my home. I’ll never forget the day I arrived. October 22nd, 2008. Fresh-faced, excited, completely unaware of the ways you would both make love to me and at the same time put your stilettos on my testicles and press down as hard as you could, stopping before you applied enough pressure that they would explode into oblivion.
Many people think about the joys of West Coast living. The sun’s always shining, every great band stops here on their tour, the ocean set against a backdrop of mountains. It can be paradisal in a million ways simply by stepping outside and taking a deep breath.
It can also be ruthless. When I arrived here at 23, I told myself I wouldn’t need a day job by the time I was 27. I’d be discovered, be on a sitcom, and be eating lunches with realtors to discuss which part of town I should build my psychedelia-inspired mansion. Fast forward to 35 and the only reason I’m not selling tickets at Universal is because of an invisible monster coursing its way through as much humanity as it can.
I never thought it was going to be easy, however, I always knew it was possible. When you move here, you see examples of success everywhere you go. You can use it to fuel jealousy, or you can use it as inspiration. I’ve certainly been guilty of the former but trained myself to always get my mind to somehow make it to the latter.
LA, you’ve given me so much more than a home. You’ve given me a chance to become myself. Beginning stand-up comedy and using it as a medium of deep self-exploration has completely evolved the way I looked at the world. No longer do I see it as a cruel, unforgiving place. I see a beautiful planet filled with opportunities to experience endless amounts of joy. And all of that is thanks to the other weirdos who have decided to make this their home.
I hear a lot that LA is fake. Every person here only cares about themselves and will claw their way through every other crab so they can climb their way out of the bucket. That’s what I heard so that was my preconceived notion as well. What I found was exactly the opposite.
Los Angeles is filled with people that are exactly like me. They may not have piercing blue eyes and a mustache that could house a family of sparrows, but we do share something more important: mindset.
They had a particular set of skills and ideas that were bigger than where they were from. It’s not to say they couldn’t have lived an incredible life somewhere else, but something about California makes you believe your dreams really will come true out here.
And they will. Once you find your community.
This city is a drug dealer and everyone wants a taste of what you’re selling. You sling dime bags of hope, ounces of opportunity, and kilos of rejection. You love distributing nuggets of deliciousness amongst piles of shit. You bestow just enough to let me know that anything is possible, as long as I’m willing to slog through the mud, on my hands and knees to get there. And the only way to do it is for others to get filthy with you.
Above all else, that’s what you’ve truly given me. A network of like-minded individuals willing to throw away comfort for a chance of crossing the bridge to the other side. The place where we can frolic, dance, and create the things we wish existed. I have met thousands (and that is not hyperbole) of incredible souls who want to make and share art. They crave live experiences, connectivity, and the feeling that we are better if we do it together.
Are there pieces of garbage floating in the pool? 100%. No city is without those that don’t seem to get it. Fortunately, most of that trash eventually gets scooped up and tossed aside. Those that view their art as competition never have a long shelf-life. It’s all about collaboration. Cultivating a community has provided an unlimited source of energy and motivation. When my friends do something amazing, it makes me want to step up my game. By pushing each other to dangerous heights, together we learn to fly.
Sometimes I think you’ve tricked me into living here forever. With your crazy taxes, rumbling earthquakes, 3 months of the year literally dubbed “fire season,” and one-bedroom trash can starting at $500,000. I could go to countless other places and probably be happy. The truth is, I don’t want to.
While there are phenomenal humans everywhere you go, the concentration here is unbeatable. Every day I meet someone that makes me want to be better.
I moved here to be discovered. But you, LA, showed me something much better. You taught me how to discover myself. You whispered in my ear to run free uncaged, without shame or fear. You proved to me that I was the one holding myself back from realizing my destiny. Once I embraced me, as you painfully and lovingly taught me to do, everything else made sense.
It’s my path and I choose how to pave it. I pick which direction it will go and it may be riddled with twists and turns, sometimes with no light to illuminate my way, but I know it’s leading me to a place of unbridled happiness. LA, you helped give me definite purpose. Once you have that, you cannot be swayed or distracted from your overall mission.
You did your best to deter me. 6 Car accidents, multiple years of auditions with zero results, never getting the showcases that I thought I deserved, a sun that scorches my sensitive skin even when it’s cloudy. I could have left after any of these. But I haven’t. And I won’t.
You are responsible for the empathetic monster that I have become. You showed me how to be positive. You taught me how to utilize my talents in unique ways. You encouraged me to latch onto my destiny and allow it to soar to unimaginable heights.
I owe a lot to you, LA, and maybe that’s the reason I’ll probably never leave. I owe it to you to pass on everything I’ve learned to friends, family, peers, and future generations that will move here with the same stars that still sparkle in my eyes.
You did this to me, LA. Call me Whitney Houston because I will always love you (and I will probably die railing lines of cocaine in the bathtub).
Sincerely,
Alex TreeStump Hooper
