Hurrah! January marks the one-year anniversary of BH Mom, which has been part Show and Tell, part Bring and Brag and often an excuse to procrastinate. Deep down it’s an earnest attempt to gain perspective. These days, with a mom’s breakneck pace, summoning a thoughtful approach to sticky matters eludes us.
What do you mean you don’t have enough credits to graduate? How did you forget to take P.E. last semester!? Why didn’t you answer the phone when I called you for the umpteenth time? If you don’t like Brussel sprouts and burnt chicken, make your own dinner!
Being a mom is the toughest job in the world, no matter what zip code you call home. Thanks to Aaron Spelling, however, the 90210 zip code confers an elevated status, real or imagined, upon Beverly Hills. The other day while walking Molly through Coldwater Park, I ran into a group of women tourists from Texas. They asked if they could take my picture. “Oh, what’s it like to live here,” they sighed “in Beverly Hills?”
“Well,” I said. “It’s a pretty good place to walk your dog.” They laughed. With me. I think. Besides the delightful dog walking streets, some would argue that the transformation from bean fields to palatial estates lends us our tradition of opulence. Others point to our flashy shopping destination of Rodeo Drive as defining our elegance. For me, people are what make Beverly Hills tick.
We’re artists, doctors, slackers, businesspeople and thieves. We bring home Oscars and lose the farm in the stock market. When you see us gather at a 9/11 memorial or a performance by the BHHS Dance Company, we shine. We have lively debate at City Hall. We have heated exchanges at traffic lights. We hawk cookies at PTA bake sales and write checks to support our public library. We have opinions and a unique perspective.
The 90210 is a bit like the children’s story The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton where a sturdy little house struggles to maintain its dignity as the surrounding city mushrooms into a metropolis. Against the odds, the little house not only survives but also stubbornly retains its place. Beverly Hills is a tiny pocket that still distinguishes itself in the middle of Los Angeles. The people see to it that the beautiful trees stay healthy, the parks are restored, bike lanes are built and the old Post Office is reinvented into a cultural center.
I even hear a Dog Park is in the works.
Thanks, dear Readers, for being part of BH Mom’s growth! So far, so good.