I’m among the pickiest of people when it comes to choosing where I want to live. Usually, I do a big cost-benefit analysis when thinking of the subject, which usually results in deciding Fresno is the best, considering it’s where all my history is buried, where my family lives, where the rent is cheap, and where the weather is at least tolerable.
Fresno isn’t so much a trap or a prison as it is a really easy living solution. Unless you absolutely must live somewhere that everybody recognizes, Fresno pretty much has everything you need. There is a varied economy, a relatively rich semi-urban culture, heavily weighted on the less-affluent Latino end of things, lots of local art and talent (very little of which is publicly financed), a very high restaurant-to-population ratio, and enough complexity and intricate sprawl to let you explore and lose yourself even if you’re a native. Fresno isn’t nearly as wealthy as most large cities its size, and it also doesn’t have a very good selection of high-end jobs found in the big metropolises, but if you aren’t entirely qualified for such a thing, it’s a great place to grow roots.
About once each year or so, however, I get that nagging desire to get away from this home of mine. Being in comfortable surroundings and close to friends and family is wonderful, but it’s also something that has never quite been as rare as it should for me. I often long for the true independence and solitude afforded someone who lives a more substantial distance from friends and family. The loss of convenient meetings and scheduled get-togethers both helps filter out the superfluous people we tend to build up in our lives, as well as making one more appreciative of the ones that really matter.
I’ve never traveled much, of course. Out of all the cities across the country or world, I couldn’t honestly say I know the exact one in which I’d most enjoy living. But I do know some of the traits of my own city and the ones I’ve visited that I’ve liked, and what I tend to look for in a city. That’s what this essay’s supposed to be about.
The first thing I notice about a city is its weather. This is probably a bad thing for the casual visitor, since the weather you get when you visit a city can make an impression on you that is totally contrary to the majority experienced in that particular place. For instance, when I visited the Northwest, you would never have known that it was the humid temperate marine climate it is, since the majority of the weather I experienced there was warm, dry, California-style. This, of course, colored my impression of Portland and Seattle in a very positive way, but didn’t really give me a feel for how comfortable my average day would be were I to move there.
In general, I enjoy Mediterranean climates. My health, psychological well-being and habits are best served by the relatively mild weather I grew up with in Fresno. I enjoy warm summers, mostly year-round sun and an almost nonexistent winter. Too many days of constant rain or grayness brings me down and makes me almost claustrophobic. On the other hand, the oppressive sun of the Southwest kills my pasty skin, as does the constant need for air conditioning and antiperspirant. On the other hand, I turn into a useless wad of gum when faced with the excessively humid climates which dominate America, as well as the harsh winters of the continental interior. Basically, I’m sturdy in the dry heat and tolerant of winter in small doses. This pretty much limits me to the west coast of North America and the east coast of Australia. Since I doubt I’ll ever be willing to emigrate, chances are I’ll spend most of my life in the same general locale in which I currently reside.
Unless I can find a place with attractions which outweigh climate. That’s where secondary factors play in. I like cities more than the countryside. I don’t, however, like cities that are incredibly far from the countryside. Even though I don’t necessarily want to hear the cattle and sheep at night, I also want to be able to escape their human counterparts with relative ease. I’m not too eager to setup house in the Northeast or Southern Californian megalopolises, but I also don’t really want to be in a cookie-cutter suburban fringe or in one of the maze-like squatter settlements of the Southwest and Southeast, where everything is made of wood and paper and less than 10 years old.
I once heard it referred to as “texture”, and I agree: I look for a certain varied conglomeration of styles, periods, and histories in a city. I like Fresno because it has experienced immense growth in recent years, but much of its historical cultural and architectural record is still intact, from the faux-brick 1920s skyscrapers to the cute characteristic 1940s suburbs to the 1960s downtown redevelopment to the stucco castles of the 80s and 90s. I like a city which doesn’t manage to totally recreate itself every couple decades (even if it tries to), and which still has a bit of laissez-faire randomness to its development, whilst still being cohesive and well-put-together.
I like a city which doesn’t obsess over being a “center of culture” or constantly try to become a “thematic” city. That’s one of the few things which turn me away from Los Angeles, which, despite it’s varied economy and cosmopolitan population, still can’t shrug off the Hollywood costume. I like a city which is unselfconsciously diverse, both culturally and socially. I like to be able to drive through the rich neighborhoods and still do a bit of benevolent slumming. I like to have shopping and services within a reasonable driving distance, and to have a variety at that. Nothing bugs me more than cities that don’t let the Wal-Marts or the Best Buys in, but still manage to have disgustingly overpriced boutiques around every corner. I don’t need to be in walking distance to pubs, restaurants or shops, but it’s always nice for them to be in walking distance from one another.
I don’t like cities which are obsessed with being “cute” or attracting tourists. I remember back when you lived in a city because it was the best way to work, trade and live, and you vacationed in the countryside. Now it seems almost every city fancies itself a tourist destination, and as a result totally ignores the needs of its own residents. I don’t want to live in Disneyland. There’s a reason Disneyland calls itself the “Magic Kingdom” - it’s not supposed to feel real. Real, functional cities, on the other hand, are.
I like to be able to look at a city from a distance and see a cohesive whole, even if it is somewhat segregated and convoluted. The best cities I’ve seen are the ones which seem like some thought went into making them, without looking like the over-planned corners of Hell which are most of the Bay Area or desert Southwest. It’s good to have the choice between a house and an apartment without having to choose between radically different neighborhoods and having to feel segregated. It’s nice to have the choice between a new home, a 20-year-old home and a 50-year old one. It’s nice when a city isn’t so obsessed with “historical preservation” that its 50-year-old homes are gaudy caricatures which cost twice as much as new ones.
Most of all, I hate cities which spout their mottos or themes every time their name is uttered. A city should speak for itself, and should be fun to explore whether you’re on foot or in a car, whether you’re downtown or in the suburbs, whether you’re on a bus or a train, in the shopping district or the commercial district. I like a city with smokestacks and factories, dumpy neighborhoods and ethnic ghettos, ritzy shopping centers and hordes of Sunday soccer moms in their minivans. In other words, I wanta city which has everything. Is that too much to ask?
From the limited traveling I’ve done, I’ve yet to find that city. But I’ve found a few that come close; either they have a great climate combined with lots of the other factors or their cosmopolitan, textured intricacy makes their climate secondary. Fresno is one of them, and it’s why I’ve stayed here so long, and still don’t feel the need to flee in terror as many people have. From where I’ve traveled, I could describe a few more: Monterey, Sacramento, Portland, Seattle… They all differ widely, but when I weigh their factors against my very strict ideals of metropolitan perfection, they sure come damn close.
But the search does continue. I have already chosen a favorite from the list above, but I think I still need to see more. I want to venture further from the west coast and find out if the awful climates in other fascinating cities are compensated by interesting and amazing new opportunities to explore and find new adventures. I also don’t think I’ll ever want to plant permanent roots, unless they are back here in Fresno on some distant future date, when I’ve done my exploring and lived around more. I want to setup house in the cities which intrigue me, explore them intensively, and move often.
I want to see the neck-straining skyscrapers of Chicago and the squalor of Detroit. I want to navigate the intriguing infrastructure of Baltimore and experience for myself the congestion and headache of Atlanta. I want to feel the gothic doom of New Orleans and the snobbish conservatism of Denver. I think I can do it. I just need to learn to take a chance, cut the roots, and not let them grow too far into the ground for as long as I can…