My Heart Belongs to Studio City

A lot happens when I walk my dog. My mind wanders about where I am now and where I’ll be going. I currently live in Glendale, an older town right outside the city limits of Los Angeles. It’s easy to imagine the nearby hills once covered in orange groves. Old fashioned photos of Glendale show nostalgic orange crates with popular radio celebrities filling them with fruit. And the trains that used to transport these oranges across the country can still be heard right down my street. They are now next to the busy freeways that connect the townships of LA.

There are huge oaks and pines along my neighborhood that make beautiful tree tunnels along the streets. And there are many plaques throughout Glendale to commemorate all the historic homes. There are a few grand, old estates, Mediterranean in style, but mostly there are smaller stucco bungalows with fruit trees, pools, and large yards like mine.
People get out and walk around here, and it’s almost
mandatory to have a dog. I didn’t have a dog when I moved here. We had just put our previous pet down to sleep. I was too busy fixing, or should I say, dealing with plumbing problems to handle a new dog. Besides, I was still in mourning. But once we got settled in and took a ride up to the Doberman shelter “just to drop off some old blankets,” we saw a young 4 month old puppy who absolutely stole our hearts. We went back the next day and brought him home. He was so excited to come with us that he threw up in the back seat of our car!


Glendale has malls, both indoors and out,
fun places to eat, and movies galore. It is a
community mixed with commerce and a large residential area, and people who like things “the way they were.”


That’s OK if you like NyQuil and soft music, but for me, my heart yearns for a little more action.

Studio City is a mere 10 miles away, but the energy is filled with more creativity and possibility. You can feel a tangible pulse of “what could be” and “what’s happening!”
Actors and actresses, screenwriters, TV and movie people are on every corner. They can be seen running to the bank, getting their Starbucks coffee, and buying their scented candles at one of the many trendy boutiques. There’s Pilates, Yoga, spirituality, religion, tolerance, politics, gays and Jews – an eclectic mix of human potpourri. There are also a lot of people who walk their dogs.

I met an outgoing woman the other day at Petco in Glendale. She had very short hair, tattoos, and wore a plaid cap. We chatted about Dick Van Patten’s dog food, our dogs’ likes and dislikes, and had an overall enlightened conversation. Unfortunately for me, this kind of dress isn’t the norm for Glendale. I miss bumping into these kinds of unique individuals. (I bet she lived in Studio City!)

I have a personal history with Studio City: it’s where my husband and I lived when we were first married. Although we enjoyed a “southern California” kind of life living at the beach in a tri-level townhome, after we got married (on a boat with our friends, family, and a few alcohol induced sea-sick incidents) we bought our first house. We were young and enthusiastic. I sold real estate and my husband worked at nearby Disney Studios. We got a dog, replastered the pool, picked lemons and oranges, and enjoyed living in studio city!

Our neighbors put out a giant sized plastic nativity scene at Christmas with real hay scattered amongst the paint-chipped baby Jesus. We drove a brand new BMW, and loved the way we could “pop” over to Beverly Hills via Coldwater Canyon. We even had our favorite restaurant on Sunset Blvd., Nicky Blair’s, where you could see short, balding men that had tall, voluptuous girls, cell phones, and no penises. Apparently rich with great Hollywood status, these men would flaunt their women and phones like trophies. Remember, this was back in the 80’s and cell phones and breast implants weren’t exactly perfected yet. The girls were a little “over the top” and the cell phones were the size of boot boxes. Both looked ridiculous, but it was akin to today’s reality shows--fun to watch!

I had my first child in Studio City. Actually he was born at Cedars Sinai in West LA, but I brought him home to Studio City. My dad had pasted pastel teddy bears on his bedroom wall, as well as done most of the remodeling. Our home was really cute.


Studio City is where we moved back to after living in Laguna Beach for almost 20 years. I was blessed to live there; raise my kids within walking distance of the beach, witness incredible daily crimson red sunsets over the Pacific Ocean while watching the whales play with their young. Paradise. I lived it. But it was great to be back in Studio City.


Two years ago, my mother had just survived aortic bypass surgery. We moved up here to LA County shortly after her surgery, my son’s graduation, and me just finishing my first book, (my second one is in progress.) We put my mom in assisted living, registered my kids in college and school, and I began my new writing and speaking career while living in Studio City. It was fun. We lived in a darling cottage bungalow. I planted flowers and picked oranges and lemons, again, and shopped at all the cute, neat, trendy shops along the boulevard.
Everyone walked their dog, including me. Everyone had an interesting story, including me.

My neighbor, who has just recently died on my birthday last October, was a holocaust survivor who raised two children, one with a crippling disability that eventually claimed her life after 47 years—35 years longer than expected. It was due to my neighbor’s persistence and determination.

She couldn’t hear well but still managed to get outside everyday to water her flowers, squeeze my daughter, praise her on her looks and talent, and say hello to all the neighbors.


My son was injured by his routine vaccines which caused many developmental delays in his language and his speech. He was one year of age at the time. Within a few years, I found ways to organically detox his immune system and overcome all his delays. He grew up strong, healthy, and vibrant. This was due to my persistence and determination. Although our outcomes were not the same, my neighbor’s triumph was that she was a committed, loving mother.
Like me. And she was my friend.

My old neighbor from 20 years ago still puts out her plastic Jesus during the holidays. She’s quite a bit older and her kids are now grown and have moved out. My mom passed away a few months ago and has joined my dad and her family in Heaven, I’m sure. I will always have good memories of her, my dad, Laguna Beach, and Studio City.

But now, even though I walk my dog along Glendale’s wooded avenues, I yearn for my own home amongst the trees-- a home near Laurel Canyon would be good. Artistic, and nostalgic, I crave the cramped parking spaces of Studio City’s Trader Joe’s Market, the crankiness of those drivers who can’t turn left, and the over-rated confidence from those bald guys in Porches. Besides, where else can you witness an attractive woman gracefully flipping off another driver with a perfectly manicured finger while single-handedly maneuvering her new Lexus sedan? Studio City!