photo by Lorraine DeLuca Placido
Over the last several weeks, we've asked Day to Day listeners to share their vision of the California Dream. Fame, health, satisfaction, blue sky or innovation—what defines your California Dream? Is the economy forcing that dream to change?
We'll be sharing your responses both on-air and here on Daydreaming. In this installment, Lorraine DeLuca Placido remembers a dream of California that started with a floral peasant dress. I dreamt of wearing it on the balcony of a home that overlooked a beach where surfers sat around lazily swapping stories, waiting for waves. I was ten when I had the dream, it was 1970 and California was the place to be.
My California Dream started with a floral peasant dress. I dreamt of wearing it on the balcony of a home that overlooked a beach where surfers sat around lazily swapping stories, waiting for waves. I was ten when I had the dream, it was 1970 and California was the place to be. In my daydream my hair was blond from the sun, a physical impossibility that didn't matter at the time. I would graduate from high school and become that person.
Dreams and destiny didn't collide, though, and I remained an East Coast girl long into adulthood. I eventually gave up the California dream, preferring the sophisticated lifestyle only the Northeast could offer. Until last summer. I was scheduled for a business meeting in Newport Beach, California and only briefly thought of my long-ago romantic notions of California. Hopefully it would be a quick trip and I'd be home in time to get to the Jersey shore by Friday night. The taxi from the airport delivered me to the wrong hotel and the driver who arrived to bring me to the correct hotel was full of apologies and discounts.
Okay, I thought, they seem a little nicer than Philly cabdrivers. Later, I rented a car and drove along the Pacific highway searching for a decent restaurant when I came upon a small sushi place. Crowded with locals, I enjoyed one of the best meals at a reasonable price in the company of friendly strangers. The second evening I stopped at a surf shop to buy a t-shirt to bring home to my teenage son. The store was closed. The sign in the window read "Hours: 10-7 on nice days, a little less on the others and on weekends". Okay, I thought, something is different here and I delayed my return trip in order to spend a weekend night in town. I was treated to a Mariachi band contest at The Mission of San Juan, Capistrano. A Santa Claus convention on Balboa Island. I fell in love with a woman's bike that I see on the ferry: A beach cruiser with long streamers, daisy "flower power" seat and a giant basket on front. The lady riding it was much older than me but not even a little self-conscious. Standing there, I started to remember why I wanted to live here when I was ten.
And then I came home, back to Philadelphia where I have been California Dreamin' all year since. Trying to figure out how to make my California Dream my reality.
If you'd like to share your California Dream, use the contact page provided here.