Here in not-so-scenic El Segundo CA, I often look with envy up the coast at Malibu CA. (There’s a clear shot through our office window.) But not today. Looking NW, the direction of Malibu, is like looking into Vietnam after a bombing run, Apocalypse Now.
I used to live in Malibu, during the mid-Eighties, on a street called Rambla Vista. I left as my marriage was coming apart. We sold the house. The house itself came apart the following year in one of those periodic Malibu fires. It was burned to the ground. Someone else built a bigger house in its place. Now that one is threatened. So it goes in the ‘bu. The exact same canyons burn over and over again.
A commenter on Pajamas Media complained that we on the Left Coast are privileged. We go our merry ways rebuilding in fire zones while casting aspersions on Easterners who rebuild in the wake of hurricanes. He has a point.