Wonderful and aptly depicted article on Glendale’s Americana at Brand [“The New Mayberry?” July 3].
I was soooo glad you mentioned that infernal music. Who could ever imagine that those classics, having reemerged in our lifetime, could prove to be so annoying!
My sister and I spent the day at this mall but were eventually driven away by the relentless crooning. I imagine living there would eventually be like finding yourself in a bad episode of “The Twilight Zone.”
OK, so I’m really writing in hopes that you might influence someone regarding turning down the music.
Also, a little variety would be nice -- they are overplaying the same standards endlessly, everywhere. It’s becoming a little Stepford, and someone needs to wake up.
Lisa Zamperini Tarzana
Mall living sounds like it could be on another planet, or else I’m living on one.
Here in west central New Hampshire, we mostly have towns of 2,000 to 2,800 people (average of 36 square miles each).
I rent a farmhouse (OK, a falling-apart one) on 65 acres for about one-third of your cheapest mall rent. I can see one house, half a mile away. If I walk to the edge of my driveway, then onto one branch of the dirt road, I can see one more house.
Deer munch their way through my backyard once in a while. One groundhog has taken up squatters rights for a good number of years now. Wild turkeys are everywhere, although they seem to skirt my property. I saw a baby moose a couple of years ago.
When I drive through various towns, en route to the soccer and baseball games of the kids of my friends, I travel through modest, yet glorious countryside.
Mall living? It sounds absolutely gross. But there are, on the other hand, some superlatives for Los Angeles and New York City.
For one thing, you are all there, and not here.
William Riley Plainfield, N.H.
Unless [developer] Rick Caruso is able to reform humans who litter and the pigeons’ tendency to pollute, that statue of Proteus may start to look a little less golden with time. Par for the course?
Howard Kindschi San Diego
I’m not even finished reading the piece, but I have to say Chris Erskine is a wonderful writer. The beginning on this one is right up there with Mark Twain’s own exaggeration line. It’s just a pleasure to find him in the paper.
Donald Wilt San Pedro