I’m a 3rd generation native Californian. I used to be proud of that. Not any more.
On recent trips, pan-handlers abound. We were cleaning out my mother’s house (she’s in assisted living now because she’s 100 years old) and we had a dumpster out front. Every morning we had to rout homeless folks out of the dumpster. They’d even get in there during the daylight.
Meth addicts broke into her house in late July and stole a lot of her things. Every median of every street has people holding signs asking for hand outs. This is not the state where I grew up.
Huntington Beach Pier, is one of the finest places on the planet.
They call it paradise
I don’t know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye