Like this:

For a brief time over the last two months I wrote for USC’s newspaper the Daily Trojan.  As part of my duties as a staff writer, we had to do regular blog posts.  I wrote two, and for reasons I still don’t entirely understand, neither were run.

So, I present to you, the first, about living in the suburbs in Los Angeles:

My name is Zach Cannon. I’m 25-years-old.  I have a confession. I like the suburbs.

I’m new to this city. This is my first semester in my graduate program, and I moved into a cute little cottage thing in Burbank a month ago.

Sure, it’s far from campus. Yeah, it can get hotter than hell. Despite that, it’s an undeniably nice place to live.

There are two trains that can zip me down to Union Station, and from there, the USC Tram drops me on campus. All these trees keep the sidewalks shaded and my apartment cool in the afternoon. And, most of all, it’s safe.

I learned this when FedEx bungled my delivery requests and left half-dozen boxes containing all my earthly belongings on my front step. They sat for five days before I flew into L.A. The boxes went untouched and undamaged.

The common complaint levied at the suburbs is the uniformity that apparently defines them.

That may be true of the newer suburbs, the cookie-cutter homes built around artificial lakes and golf courses. Settle in an older suburb, one developed over the last fifty years, and there’s something from all styles and for all demographics.

For those who like retro, there are old duplexes and single-family homes. Some boast stables converted into garages, antique wooden stowaway ironing boards, or driveways paved to fit Model-Ts. Want something a little newer? There’s no shortage of townhouses, apartment buildings, and condos.

Compare that to downtown, where the barred windows protect apartments in two categories: cramped crumbling quirky commodes, or recently remodeled urban chic residences. Hip and cool, perhaps, but I prefer being able to go out for a run after dark, park at the movies for free, or just sit in my small yard.

That’s right, I have a yard, and an herb garden.

Some may call it domestic, some may call it dull, but to me, this suburb feels like home.

 

That's right, a yard!

 

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