Ta-Ta to La-La Land

I got exhausted reading Colman Andrews’ rambling writing style in “Loved It, Left It” (March 19). But he did inspire me to to remember Grayson’s, Sweldom’s and Lerner’s, where we got our Butcher Linen Easter outfits in 1943. I recalled going to Currie’s and to Punch and Judy, where, if you could consume the entire “Idiot’s Delight,” you were given another one free. And I remembered Earl Carroll’s “Nightclub,” starring Pinky Lee.

We went to Hollywood Boulevard to see two features at Grauman’s, or to the fabulous Egyptian, or to see live stage shows Downtown at the Million Dollar, the Orpheum, the Paramount or the Mason, L.A.’s first opera house. We took the beautiful yellow Pico Line from 1st and Broadway to Boyle Heights, and the Red Line from Hill Street all the way to the beach for a nickel.

My own childhood bed was situated on the very spot where now Row E, Seat 17 is located in the Music Center.

Carrie Hodes

Beverly Hills

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As a well-traveled native Angeleno, L.A. is in my soul. When I was younger, I’d defend my city against detrimental remarks from people who flew in, stayed at the Hilton or wherever for a week and hated the whole trip. Now my technique is to shrug and agree with every bad thing they have to say about us. “You’re right about L.A.,” I say. “Stay home. There are too many people here. If the earthquakes don’t get you, the flooding, crimes, fires and landslides will.”

If all the L.A.-haters stay away, maybe I can cut down on my drive time to the beach. If, on the other hand, you like it here, welcome! Glad you could make it.

Marilyn Woody

Lake Forest

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Los Angeles is defined by a populace inclined to look in the mirror for cosmetic adjustment rather than to peer into its collective soul. L.A.’s collision course with its future is helped along by an attitude described almost reverentially by Colman: a non-introspective populace vigorously intent on sticking its collective head in the sand of nostalgia.

Andrews recalls earlier days when Beverly Hills was a village with diagonal parking and $50,000 homes, and he suspects that not one local in 100 could at the time pronounce Gucci properly or find Iran on a map. Personally, I look forward to a day when they might not only be able to point to Iran on a map but might be able to speak some Farsi as well.

Laura Bloom

Los Angeles

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Andrews’ bio reveals that he is living in Old Greenwich, Conn., but the deck states that he moved to New York. I know we native New Yorkers are famous for viewing the rest of the country as a large, blurry land mass, but I was surprised to learn that Connecticut and New York had merged.

Kathrin King Segal

Burbank