Getting a Fix on the Elusive Orange County

Evidently, I was somewhat presumptuous in assuming that Orange County residents, when traveling, would tell strangers, when asked, that they were from Anaheim, rather than Santa Ana, Garden Grove, Mission Viejo, El Toro or whatever place they might really be from.

My theory was that Anaheim, being the home of the Anaheim Rams, the Anaheim Angels and, of course, Disneyland, would be known the world around, and would prompt a nod of recognition from those who ask “Where are you from?”

Peg Morell, of Buena Park, writes that residents of Orange County divide it into two parts, North Orange County and South Orange County. Thus, Anaheim is in North Orange County and El Toro in South Orange County, and one could never define the other.

That is a refinement of which, I admit, I was ignorant.

Morell notes that one cannot tell North Orange County from South Orange County by looking at a map, since the dividing line is the 55 Freeway, which happens to run north and south.

“It’s easy enough,” she explains, “if you’re a marketing person, for whom such distinctions do not exist if the money’s right.”

She says the chief product, crop, export and commodity of South Orange County is money. Its language is English, except for some Spanish “for architectural flavor” and various other languages for menials and au pair girls.

She says its people are “white American rich. . . . By and large, servants, shop people, and various low- and medium-level workers, having been priced out of the housing market by real estate speculation, live somewhere else and commute via freeways, which are jammed at all hours.”

Barbara S. Thomas, who lives in Garden Grove, says, “I certainly would not want anyone to think I lived in Anaheim!” If “Garden Grove” merely provokes puzzlement, however, she says, “We are three miles from Disneyland,” which, to my mind, is the same as Anaheim.

In any case, she says, she would not say she lived in “the Los Angeles area. That’s no improvement over either Bakersfield or Garden Grove.”

“Although I live in Orange County,” writes Hope Qvale, of Newport Beach, “I would never tell anyone I was from there, nor would I say ‘near Anaheim.’ Obviously, I would say I was from Newport Beach. After all, everyone knows where that is.”

Thomas Roy Pendell of Balboa admits he said he was from Los Angeles, or California, on a recent trip to Australia, but closer to home he says Balboa--never Newport Beach, of which Balboa is a part. “Why? We don’t want to get tagged in people’s mind with the ‘Newport Beach syndrome.’ ”

Ironically, people who live in Beverly Hills are embarrassed to admit it. Harry Weiss, who happens to live in the coveted 90212 zone, complains that “to honestly claim residence in Beverly Hills immediately raises eyebrows, conjuring up vision of gated mansions, Rolls-Royces and Mercedes, and fast friends in the entertainment industry.”

In fact, Weiss says, he lives in a typical California two-bedroom bungalow that is “humbly” south of Santa Monica Boulevard “among other such modest residences.”

He laments: “Oildale, Weed Patch, Pumpkin Center, Bakersfield--bucolic names all--require no subterfuge, but humble addresses in Beverly Hills do.”

Audrey Swangren’s problem is even more acute: “Far from home,” she writes, “a stranger asked where I was from. Not wishing to express illusions of grandeur, I responded, ‘Southern California.’ She pumped me further and I said, ‘Los Angeles.’ Then she wanted to know what section. I hesitatingly said ‘Beverly Hills.’ Then came, ‘Oh, really! How wonderful! And now I suppose you are going to tell me you live on Rodeo Drive!’ I truthfully responded, ‘Yes, I do.’ ”

She’d have been better off, in the first place, to say she lived in Pumpkin Center.

But Evelyn Pirolo of Santa Ana admits that, when traveling, she says she’s from Disneyland. Once her tour group encountered several children in Scotland. Asked where she was from, she answered “Disneyland” (which, in reality, is about seven miles down the road). “Their faces instantly brightened. One little girl replied, ‘Oh! My aunt has been there thrice!’ ”

Thrice? Do little Scottish girls actually say thrice?

Anyway, whenever anyone asks me where I’m from, from now on, I’m saying Disneyland.

It’s certainly better than Oildale.