I live in California. Southern California. The average price of a home here is $773,000. But where I live that would be a vacant lot. Nothing within miles is selling for under a million. I often wonder who can afford the homes that go on the market and are snatched up for $1.5 to $2 million dollars. Often the new owners will spend four months tearing down the house to the studs and rebuilding.
Neighbors to one side of us are lovely, pleasant people. Married with children. Probably conservative. Like us, they leave their American flag up. They bought the house that had been owned by an older couple. And they spent months tearing the downstairs apart and rebuilding. I couldn’t help but wonder how people in their 20s or 30s can afford a two million home.
When the BLM riots were roiling the U.S., several homes in my neighborhood put up “In this house we support black lives” signs. In lieu of guns, that was their home protection, I guess. The signs stayed up until the ink faded. Now we are in election season. In my neighborhood, new signs are up. Harris/Walz signs. Lots of them. One home a few blocks away is inhabited by a family that we have known for over a decade. Our kids went to elementary together. They are nutty liberals. Two of the three children are members of the alphabet soup gang. One is transgender. One is gay. They have their Harris/Walz signs up. On a walk with my dog, I noted that one street is festooned with Harris signs. There are no Trump signs. One guy put one up and it was gone the next day – I assume it was torn down. One Harris sign takes up the entire garage door.
In Kamala Harris’ neighborhood, Kams has similar friends. We couldn’t afford to move to her Brentwood neighborhood. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to live there. There is one constant about Red vs. Blue. Blue neighbors are nasty. I’m not a lawn sign guy. But I know if I put up a “Trump” sign, it would have the half-life of a gnat. In Harris’ ‘hood she has conservative neighbors who know that they can’t be open about it. It is no surprise to me that Harris and Dougie aren’t all that friendly.
“If she said, ‘Merry Christmas, sorry for the inconvenience,’ that would be nice. But, four years, not a line,” said the resident, who, like a handful of others not thrilled about the vice president living nearby, asked that her name not be disclosed over concerns that her comments might reveal her political leanings.
Others are thrilled to be card-carrying Harris cult members.
“I would do a two-hour detour each way if it meant Trump not being president,” said Kimmel, executive producer of Comedy Central’s “Crank Yankers,” whose brother, TV host Jimmy Kimmel, has endorsed Harris. “I would gladly take the sewer system down the street if I had to.”
The LA Times found actor Jon Tenney up the street. He expressed his excitement. The politically active blue-as-indigo actor was perturbed at the complainers.
“It feels like kind of a nice block party” — in a good way. He grew exasperated when told about another resident’s pique.
Tenney, the actor, said that an assistant for Harris once delivered a gift bag and an apology “for any inconvenience.” Tenney said he met the vice president recently at a fundraiser and told her they were neighbors.
“She said, ‘Oh, I am so sorry,’” he recalled.
I picture Tenney swooning with delight. “Oh she spoke to me!” The Times article featured a photo of Kammy and Dougie walking up the street. They are smiling and holding hands. Of course, they didn’t have to “walk” the street to get to their home. It was a photo-op, like the visit to the border. But Kams is just a gal who grew up in a middle-class family with a lawn, with “hopes and dreams and aspirations.” It’s all for show. Harris is remarkably inauthentic. From her plagiarism, to her demeanor, she is as fake as a character in a movie. It’s no wonder actors swoon when meeting Harris because she is one of them.
Artificial and fake.
