When you spend enough time in LA, you develop intimate relationships with its streets. They become your friends. Your enemies. Your daily companions. After all, you probably spend more time with them than you do with your loved ones.
I’ve spent a lot of time on La Brea. We know each other well. All the way from the 10 up to Melrose. Every morning. Every evening. I know the best places to get gas no matter which direction you’re headed. I can plan my weekly errands along this one street without ever needing to detour from my commute.
La Brea has changed a lot over the years, and is currently in the process of rebranding to its best self. Before, the reasons to come to La Brea were few and far between (literally, geographically). But now several shops, restaurants, cafés and more have popped up to fill the gaps and it’s truly a renaissance.
Wilshire is a different story. Expansive. Beautiful. Nothing like driving on Wilshire on a Sunday morning. Well paved, spacious. Oh wait. We’re not talking about the Westwood stretch of Wilshire. We’re talking about Mid-Wilshire. Perpetually under construction Mid-Wilshire. I really can’t imagine I will live to see the day when this street is an urban hub with a functioning metro system. I mean, if that day ever does come, it’ll take away from the authenticity of the city. You gotta put up with the construction and traffic lights and unprotected lefts on Wilshire in order to be a true Angeleno. It builds character. It’s a rite of passage that a stereotypical photo in front of street lamps will never be. But of course, since you’re in the area, do that too. You can try your luck finding street parking on 6th.