The whole driving/parking anxiety is something I dealt with a lot when I lived in LA.

The great thing is, everybody in LA expects themselves and you to be late, so there’s really no reason or excuse to be early.

And the key to dealing with weird parking issues is, I concur, to be very mellow, loose, and meekly confident. You have to act like you’ve gone through the procedure hundreds of times before. If somebody gives you a hard time, you have to act like they’re a little kid you’re playing a game with. Lots of gentle laughter…

LA is a good place, for me at least.

“It’s alright. I’m meant to be here,” is a truly inspiriting idea. Now, if those of us with faces could convey “It’s alright. You’re meant to be here,” the world would be ok.

The best way to prepare for any encounter is to waste large quantities of gasoline: hop into a large late model car late in the night, crank up the music of your choice and transit freeways randomly until you achieve either oneness with LA (see also “flow, go with the”) or get some serious munchies, which can be adequately answered almost anywhere at any hour in LA except, of course, for that place in Westwood with toasters at every table.