Live in California.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, California would be it. The long-term benefits of living in California have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own mild-wintered experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of this state. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of this state until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of California the way it used to be and recall in a way you can't grasp now how many people there were even back then and how fabulous it all really looked. California is not as liberal as you imagine.
Don't worry about the governorship. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to park your car in San Francisco on Saturday night. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, like an earthquake at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Drive on one freeway every day that scares you. Cruise.
Don't be reckless with other people's rollerblades. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. Shop. Don't waste your time on Fresno. Sometimes you're tired, sometimes you're desperate. The drive is long and, in the end, I-5 will drive you insane. Remember the ebonics you hear. Forget the valleygirlspeak. If you succeed in doing this, move to Oakland.
Keep your old Disneyland mouse ears. Throw away your old surfer shorts.
It's the cheese.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting Californians I know didn't know at 22 if they would ever leave California. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't. Use plenty of sunblock. Be kind to your skin. You'll miss it when it's gone.
Maybe you'll live in a condo, maybe you won't. Maybe it'll go below freezing once this winter, maybe it won't. Maybe your beachfront house will slide down the cliff after 40 days, maybe you'll curl up in your Tahoe cabin for the fortieth year in a row. Whatever you do, congratulate California too much, and berate everyplace else. Your life has been claimed by California. So have everybody else's.
Enjoy your car. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the most necessary instrument you'll ever own. Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but in the parking lot of Starbucks. Be sure to get directions, for not all freeways are created equal. Do not climb redwood trees. You will only get stuck up there.
Get to know the land west of the fault lines. You never know when it'll be gone for good. Be nice to Northern California. They're SoCal's best link to a water supply and the people most likely to stick it to 'em in the future. Understand that movie stars come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in theater rates and Hollywood glitz, because the older you get, the more you need the movies you loved when you were young.
Live in a high-priced suburb once, but leave before it makes you yuppie. Live in Watts once, but leave before it makes you ghetto. Road-trip. Accept certain inalienable truths: Gasoline prices will rise. The state government will bloat. You, too, will find yourself retired in Napa. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, gas was less than a dollar a gallon, government stayed in Sacramento and Napa wines were much better than this.
Drink better Napa wines.
Don't expect the state to support you. Maybe you'll qualify for a Cal Grant. Maybe you'll win the Lotto. But you never know when either one might run out. Don't mess too much with your credit cards or by the time you're 40 you'll owe $85,000. Be careful what cheap food places you go to, but be patient with those who run them. Going to Denny's or Taco Hell is a form of group bonding, even if they do fish the food from the disposal, wipe it off, paint over the ugly parts and recycle it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on California.
