England, as you probably know, is a very small place. Imagine Texas farted. That would be England.
Some might argue that, historically, it's the other way around, but let's not go there.
There are malls in England. Some are relatively big, but nothinglike what you have here. We just don't have the space. Thank God.
So there we are in LA and we stumble on a new mall in Glendale. The mall is a hollow square, with a big area in the middle - let's call it a piazza.
The piazza has grass and fountains and little carts where more stuff is sold. In one corner there's a cinema, there are restaurants with patios and lots of high end stores. It's all very clean and nice. Too clean and nice, when you come from Europe and cities are old and dirty.
But, OK, I can live with that.
The fountains shoot spurts of water in constant accompaniment with piped show tunes. On top of the stores, there are condoes. It's a mystery to me who wants to live in a place where "Fly me to the Moon" and similar songs blast out from 9am to 6pm but hey - it takes all sorts to make a world, as my mother used to say. They choose to live there - it's their problem.
I can live with that.
I am starting to get used to the idea of the Mall being a destinationfor the day. Something to look at, to experience, like the beach or the mountains. It's depressing, but it's a fact - families go to the mall as an outing.
I can live with that.
There was a fake San-Francisco-type tram going round the outer edge of the piazza. It was cute and fun for kids with the conductor ringing the bell.
I can live with that, too.
What I couldn't stand was - wait for it - it had a tour guide. I actually heard him as the tram rumbled past...
"And here we have Crate and Barrel. There's the Gap on your left and..."
A tram tour of a mall?
Are you fracking kidding me?