Apartment Living in Hermosa Beach

Culture shock is upon me at seventy five.  After living in the middle of the woods for thirty years, and a short stay in Mexico living behind the high walls, I am now living in Hermosa Beach, California.

Life changed and I did not have a choice about where I was going to live.  The beach sounded quite inviting. My daughter offered to share her apartment. She had an extra bedroom and I could share expenses which is helpful in a recession.

First of all I downsized from a four story house in New England and I moved to Mexico.  In Mexico I had a huge rented house, three bedrooms and three marble baths, a huge yard and lots of room.

At this moment I have one good sized room of my own.  That part is good. I have simplified my life, my wants and needs. I certainly save money because I don’t need to buy anything, my room is full of my favorite things and I need little more.

This apartment is very nice and our  apartment neighbors friendly.

The next door  neighbors are “something else”.

The beach has always been prime property. After all there is only so much of the coastline.   When I was growing up, there were wonderful little funky cottages along the beach areas and of course some very nice, very large homes too.   I even lived in one at age three.  It worked, and you could get a view of the beach in many areas.  Actually I have always held the thought that nobody should be able to build directly on the beach and obstruct the view, but that never happened.  I believe views should be free and available to all.

Back to Hermosa.  California is known for the growth in Real Estate and the recent boom has brought the beach towns to their feet and suffocated the free feeling of the beach.  Where there used to be character in the homes there is little left. What has replaced that are the huge three story condos built on the same lot that accommodated one family.  The buildings fill the lots corner to corner.  I cannot say I have seen a condo or new apartment with any character, or real beauty.  It is just a building with the most for the money.  Of course the prices are through the roof.  Since the recession the prices may have fallen a little, but the beach property is at such a premium that prices are still over the roof in my opinion.  There are no animals allowed on the beach sand.  You can walk them on the Strand.

That sort of bums me but it is not what really drives me crazy.

It is the neighbors who seem to live in my bedroom.   I never wanted to live that close to anyone. Next door is a three story rental.   The rent is very expensive so the tenants change often.  The amazing thing is how much I hear about the daily life that goes on over there.  I close my window, but that only cuts out a little.  I can turn my television on a bit louder but that imposes on anyone in the apartment.  I don’t see any answer.  People shrug it off and say, “It’s the beach.”  If it gets too late and too bad the police get called, and things usually calm down.

What I am talking about is the intimate life I hear.  I am not sure where the kitchen is, but I hear everything that goes on there; even the garlic being chopped.  It is amazing. I am sure they have heavy pottery plates because of the sound.  I hear the dryer clicking early in the mornings.  The garbage disposal grinds at times.  I hear about the pancakes and that they need more batter.  It amazes me.

I don’t think they are talking loud, just normally.  But it carries right up to me.

When the weird tenants come, it gets worse. The other night some guys were so loud they woke me out of a sound sleep with the main word in their conversation being “muthafkr”  Wow !  “I just got out of the rehab and look what you guys have done to this place!”  Over and over that conversation ensued, with “muthafkr” being every other word.  I wondered how many of the crowd had been in rehab or worse, but I was not going over to find out.  In a way they fascinated me.  What else did they ever talk about?   Was their vocabulary so limited. The next day I saw a couple of Spanish speaking guys in the garage and started to tell them I didn’t appreciate that sort of thing, but they were not the guilty ones.  Those guys had moved out, the place was too small they said. Thank goodness.  (I do speak Spanish so we conversed.)

Usually there are some young dudes and maybe girls show up and help cook and spend the evening at a party or just a group.  Last week some fellow felt impelled to share, “She had great tits. I enjoyed them and then she got weird.” I tried to picture the situation.  The conversation didn’t last long, they all went out. After all this is known as a party town.  In my imagination I have a cast of characters that live there.  I figure they have to have pretty good jobs to afford the place.  Mostly young, tan guys with six packs and a strong drive to drink and have sex as often as possible.  There used to be a cute young blonde girl there who wore her low cut jeans with her bright pink thong lining her lovely pink butt cheeks.  She was friendly.  I think she kept house for the guys there at the time.

A new neighbor rented the cottage in the back.  She is a young woman with two large dogs.  She described the newest neighbors moving in eighteen beds. No other furniture has arrived.  What do they plan to do, run a boarding house?  We shall see I am sure.

Our  own landlord is  great person, who owns our apartment.   He always has cookies for our doggies.  We can decorate for holidays, work in the garden and mostly he appreciates whatever anyone does.  My daughter  cleans and plants and keeps the exterior in nice order. She has made the place prettier and more social with chairs along the sidewalk in a little patio area.  There is a portable little fence so doggies can enjoy the outdoors.  There is so little open space in Hermosa  the dogs to be happy with sidewalk and umbrella shade.
The beach not available to animals; sad because they love to romp in the sand. We always pick up after our dogs.

I doubt that I shall live here for a long time, but it is truly a new experience for me.  It is never too late to learn even if it isn’t  quite wonderful.  The beach weather is nice though.