at second glance.

Los Angeles gets better with time. And yet it isn't like a fine wine. It's not age that makes it better. Aging in Los Angeles is quickly smothered in Botox and bottled hair dye. But as you get to know the difference between east and west and you incorporate Pico into your mental geography, things start to look a little brighter.

There's the Upright Citizens' Brigade, Canter's, Santa Monica, Wildflour pizza, the cheap end of Melrose, shopping in Pasadena, little cafes sprinkled between dirty office towers, world-class art museums, the La Brea tarpits, restaurants that serve s'mores, the Venice canals, drum circles, movie premieres, and, apparently, disco skating rinks.

I don't think I will ever say that I feel more at home in Los Angeles than in San Francisco, but something tells me that everything is going to be all right.