That’s the minor part. The most telling evidence is what lives within you. You’re in a hurry. There is no reason to rush. After all, this is laid-back California. Somewhere in your mind that subway door is closing. When I meet new people they never ask where I’m from. They know. You eat pizza in Redondo Beach and you can’t resist the favorite annoying remark of most New Yorkers: “It’s good but not as good as in New York.” It’s true. But how would you know if you are not from New York? There are thousands of Chinese restaurants in New York that are better than the best ones here. See, a New Yorker’s view. Again, it’s true. And then there are bagels. They look the same but they don’t taste the same. There is nothing like a New York bagel. They say it’s the water. It may be our collective imaginations. Broadway theater cannot be duplicated despite all the music centers, small Hollywood theaters and local theaters like we have in Redondo Beach. There is something missing. You can call it tradition, dedication or whatever you like. It’s different. Are you getting the point? New Yorkers remain New Yorkers. And then there is public transportation. There is no place in New York that you can’t go on public transportation. People can live their whole lives in Manhattan and never own a car. A New Yorker’s view of Los Angeles includes millions of people addicted to automobiles. I ride public transportation here as often as possible but I have friends who have never ridden on the MTA or a bus. And there is the periodic refresher course. Once or twice a year I go back to New York to make sure I haven’t lost my touch. The first thing I do when I land at JFK is get in a cab and argue with the driver about the route he is taking into Manhattan. Then I sit there grouching about the crummy condition of the cab. I over-tip the cabdriver and throw a five at the doorman who opens the door and says, “Hello.” This is true New York inflated economics. If I am in New York four days that include Wednesday and Saturday, I try to see six plays – four evenings and two matinees. Of course, I don’t pay full price. I stand in line with the “in” people looking for “two fers” as they say. The theaters send their leftover tickets to the line in the last few hours before curtain. Not all shows are available, but it’s New York. There are tons of good shows. With all this I can hear you saying, “Why doesn’t he go back?” I wouldn’t think of it. The summers are too steamy. The winters are too cold. Everything is too expensive. And it’s too crowded. There I go again being a typical New Yorker. We’ll tell you that it is the only place on Earth and then complain about everything. I’m staying in good ol’ Redondo Beach. Marvin Rosenfeld is a 41-year Redondo Beach resident and a semi-retired publisher. Do you have a story to tell? Submit your column to Lisa Martini, My Turn, Daily Breeze, 5215 Torrance Blvd., Torrance, CA 90503-4077, or e-mail us at [email protected] Please limit to 800 words and include your telephone number. We’ll pay $25 for each column we publish. 160Want local news?Sign up for the Localist and stay informed Something went wrong. Please try again.subscribeCongratulations! You’re all set! I’ve lived in California for 45 years and never regretted moving here. My first day in the state was the day I moved from New York City to West Covina to work on the space program. On that day I decided I would never leave. That was in spite of the fact that, like all New Yorkers, I believed everything west of 11th Avenue is a wilderness. After all this time in California I thought I’d be indistinguishable from anyone else. Not so. First of all, one sentence out of my mouth and some smug expert says, “Where in New York did you live?” If you listen to people when you are in New York, you find that my accent isn’t as bad as the natives’, but it is there. Maybe another 45 years and it will be gone.