IT TAKES TWO TO TANGLE : The Nation’s Biggest Fault Line Stretches From New York to Los Angeles

As the Golden State is once again rocked by sizable earthquakes, there is, of course, much talk of fault lines. The Whittier, the San Andreas, the Newport--take heed, residents along these dangerous geographic wrinkles! Get ready for the imminent tectonic apocalypse!

It’s not a bad thing to prepare for a cataclysmic shaking of the earth, but focusing on which fault line is likely to blow first and where the most serious liquefaction will result obscures understanding of the greatest fault line in the country. This is the vast and treacherous New York-Los Angeles Fault, the one that runs right through the heart of the national character.

If America went into therapy, a psychiatrist would tell it that it has an approach-avoidance relationship with itself. New York is the difficult side, the side that says no, it plays hard to get, its best friend is the Old World, it has dress codes, it wants you to come back later when it’s in a better mood, it doesn’t see your name on the list, sorry, pal, I’m off duty. Los Angeles is the easy side, the side that says yes, life’s a beach, its best friend is everyone but no one in particular, it has area codes, it wants whatever you want, have a nice day and have it your way, you’re the boss, just tell me how to move.

The sophisticate and the rube, the arrogant dinner party guest and the guileless naif, the slicker and the vulgarian--these two sides of the national character have been waging a civil war since before the one that keeps public television in business. Externally, here is the result: The prideful America throws up on its dinner host when the vulnerable America asks for help. Internally, here’s what happens: New York launches periodic salvos against Los Angeles and Los Angeles pretends that New York doesn’t exist.

This age-old rivalry really kicked in when the movie industry began to flourish, and Nathanael West, one of the many migrant writers from New York, conceptualized Los Angeles as “The Day of the Locust,” implying that the East, primarily New York, was a pinnacle of manners. Later, Los Angeles took another major hit in the form of a New Yorker cover, a map in which Manhattan makes up most of America, and what’s west of the Hudson is a small, barren land known as California.

True to form, the West Coast has retaliated with . . . nothing. There is no Los Angeles equivalent depicting what’s east of the Rockies, no symbol of the L.A. attitude toward New York. This is not because Los Angeles cannot defend itself but because Los Angeles does not see itself in relation to New York, or anywhere else for that matter. It just is. Or, to quote Popeye, Dr. Seuss and the Old Testament: “That’s all I am, green eggs and ham.” This infuriates New Yorkers, and so the country’s mind spends its time shadowboxing with its body.

Of course, blood enemies are inexorably linked, which is why it’s not surprising that it was a New Yorker, Horace Greeley, who became famous for urging, “Go west, young man.” It was as if his mind was telling people to go visit his body. Greeley never followed his own advice, but many others did. Paradoxically, their descendants now serve as fodder for an endless round of hot tub jokes.

So here’s what I propose: New York and Los Angeles should knock it off. It won’t be easy, but, just like the dismantling of the Berlin Wall, Dan Rather can cover the party on national television. Then, the cultural exchange programs can begin. Instead of moving here and complaining that Los Angeles should be more like New York, New Yorkers will be forced to bypass the Casa de Escrow and spend a month in a host home. They will learn such amazing facts as: Not everyone puts the word dude at the end of a sentence, many people are not currently at work on a screenplay and, no, the town doesn’t congregate in a hot tub. As for Angelenos, instead of ignoring New York, they will be required to merge into the nearest eastbound freeway, head for Yankee Stadium and stay through the ninth inning. Now that’s baseball!

But I’m not saying that these two personalities should change. In fact, to use the language of high school yearbooks, New York, stay as arrogant as you are. Los Angeles, never lose that winning smile. But couldn’t the two of you shake hands and make up?