Life in California is full of vexing questions. Who’s behind these mushroom churches? What does Salesforce do? Will we ever run out of true crimes?
Alta Journal has enlisted two experts to answer all of your questions: Stacey Grenrock Woods and Gustavo Arellano, both of whom bring decades of hard-won knowledge and laser-sharp insights into the Golden State.
Have a question of your own? Ask a Californian!
I’ve been wondering, What are the great beefs in California history? Whether political, between artists, between columnists or petty lords.
—Versus
Stacey: Between columnists? I don’t know what you’ve heard about me and Gustavo, but I can assure you that we get along great, and I was never anywhere near his tailpipe (or that banana).
Here in California, we can turn anything into a feud. You’ve got your classic gang rivalries, like the one between the Bloods and the Crips; some major artistic feuds, like David Geffen versus Neil Young and Lindsey Buckingham versus the rest of Fleetwood Mac; real estate rivalries, like Mohamed Hadid versus his neighbors and David Geffen versus the idea of public beaches. In the food sector, there’s at least one literal beef: the Great French Dip War bravely fought every day by restaurants Cole’s and Philippe’s, and there’s 2007’s Battle of the Dinner Entrées between my sister and my sister-in-law. (No links for that, but you can call either one for a full rundown.) There are simply too many business clashes to even get into. Why, this place is so rife with rivalry that we made an entire branch of entertainment for it called reality TV.
So I want to focus on one that I think is quintessentially Californian and that my co-columnist doesn’t know enough about to steal—which is totally something he’d do. It was a cold war that wasn’t between petty lords so much as Lords of Dogtown, to some extent. Tony Hawk and Christian Hosoi were two young skateboarders who were close in age and of comparable ability but who represented completely different approaches to the sport. Hawk was a nice kid from Carlsbad; Hosoi was a bad boy from Los Angeles. They did the same tricks but had different styles: Hosoi was fluid, but Hawk never fell. Fans fell firmly into two camps: Hosoi people and Hawk people (cool guys and dorks). When skateboarding’s popularity declined in the late ’90s, Hosoi got involved in all kinds of unsavory things and ended up in prison, but Hawk kept skating, saved his money, and bought a house. Today, Tony hawks CoQ10 supplements and Christian is a born-again Christian. It’s a live-action sports tortoise-and-hare story.
So who won? Well, if you consider growing your brand, forming a successful company, immortalizing yourself in video game form, becoming a household name, and co-grandfathering Kurt Cobain’s grandson winning, then Hawk won. But if you consider being cool, flying too close to the sun, becoming a cult figure, and finding God winning, then Hawk still won. And if you’re a person over 12 who talked about skateboarding as much as I just did, then it’s probably too close to call. Please, save me, Gustavo, before I embarrass myself any further.
Gustavo: No wonder my Yukon’s exhaust smelled like roasted plantains for a few days…anyhoo, Stacey: the only person who embarrasses this columna is me, because your answers are always contemporary and cool, which means I can’t possibly steal them because mine seem plucked from the archives of Charles Fletcher Lummis and other Californian antiquarians. You nailed a lot of legendary California beefs and got to the essence of what a true beef is: war between two sides where both sides win and lose, like Spy vs. Spy or what goes on at the state Capitol.
So it can’t be San Francisco versus Los Angeles, because no one in L.A. cares. The feud between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford was epic, but they messed it all up by dying. USC versus UCLA? Stanford versus Cal? Cal State Stanislaus laughs at them all.
So how about the best beef of them all: humans versus Mother Nature for dominion over the Golden State? We keep polluting the air and water, building more housing and roads, and unleashing Transformers sequels—no environment could ever survive that, right? That’s what tree huggers want us to believe as they make us all drive cars equipped with Duracell batteries. But, folks, you’re forgetting that Mother Nature is a tomahawk steak to mankind’s puny beef tartare. She smacks us down with a wildfire and Valley fever here, historic floods and droughts there, Asian tiger mosquitoes everywhere—and why did we build houses on hills or on the coast again? And just wait until Mami Nature unleashes the Big One and makes mincemeat of us all. BEEF!
How should real Californians celebrate Thanksgiving?
—Turkey Time
Stacey: We’re all real Californians, but the realest of us observe Thanksgiving as far away from an airport as we can get. Even if our loved ones live somewhere else, our state is better, and everyone must come to us.
Once that’s settled, you, as a real Californian, are free to have any kind of Thanksgiving you like. You are not limited to some kind of slow-food, farm-to-table fantasy in the middle of a Napa Valley vineyard where Thomas Keller and Alice Waters tell the story of the first Thanksgiving from the perspective of an heirloom squash seed. You might be surprised to learn that most of us have Thanksgivings that the rest of the country would recognize as traditional. There is a turkey that’s made of turkey and all the classics like stuffing (with gluten) and sweet potatoes, which we incorrectly call yams like everyone else. Not every pie crust is lovingly handmade with homegrown amaranth hand-ground into flour. Some are from the grocer’s freezer case and made by our dear friend and neighbor Marie (Callender). The only truly Californian dish I’ve ever seen on a Thanksgiving table is an avocado slaw that I’m pretty sure my niece invented and that, yes, is the highlight of the meal.
My only wish for my fellow Californians is that none of you will have to spend this or any holiday behind the wheel of a rented Tesla to deliver a turkey dip collab from Erewhon (which, tragically, will probably be open) to some squatters in a spray-painted mansion in the Hollywood Hills. But whatever you do, I hope you do it with loved ones, who will soon fly back home, thankfully.
Gustavo: Since I was a kid, I’ve thought that Thanksgiving was a sham. Those miserable Puritans taught Americans to ignore their extended family throughout the entire year, save a four-day weekend devoted to watching the Detroit Lions on television, carving up a turkey whose tuchus is stuffed with gross-ass ass-stuffing, watching a giant Pikachu balloon float down midtown Manhattan, and fighting with said extended family. Hard pass from me, save for the Pikachu. That traditional spread? Pumpkin pie is gross; cranberry is useless; and turkey is so much better as a Salvadoran sandwich (known as pan con chumpe), a Yucatecan-style lemon soup, or a fried drumstick wielded at a Renaissance Faire. Besides, if you’re not giving thanks every minute you live in the Golden State, may I suggest you enjoy a Salvi turkey sando while driving your U-Haul to Scottsdale?
I want a book that’ll help me better understand California: it can be nonfiction, fiction, or even poetry. Suggestions?
—Read It and Weep
Stacey: I’ve got a few of each for you. (Except in the poetry category; my poets are all dead Brits.) Let’s first get some classics out of the way. Raymond Chandler is great, but I don’t think his books will help you understand California unless you do things like smoke Lucky Strikes and ride Angels Flight. And my so smart co-columnist has certainly read much more Steinbeck, much more recently than I have, so I’ll just concentrate on the fun and/or trashy books.
In the nonfiction category, Mike Davis’s City of Quartz is a must-read if you want to hold your own at all those swanky California history parties. Peter Biskind’s Easy Riders, Raging Bulls will help you understand how the movies we make here went from great to terrible. A novel that satirizes that notion hilariously is On Spec, by The Ankler’s Richard Rushfield, who’s also—full disclosure—a good friend of mine. Along those lines, Budd Schulberg’s novel, What Makes Sammy Run?, will take you further into the mind of a Hollywood professional than anyone should really be, and further back than even that, Evelyn Waugh’s The Loved One is still as fresh a Hollywood satire as you can find (and much better than the movie). You want it darker? Six Degrees of Paris Hilton, by Mark Ebner, who’s—full disclosure again—also a good friend of mine, is a Hollywood true-crime masterpiece. And, no, I didn’t forget memoir: Eve’s Hollywood, by Eve Babitz, is a portrait of a California I wish still existed, as are MacKenzie Phillips’s High on Arrival and Moon Unit Zappa’s new memoir, Earth to Moon. The latter two are highlights of the Rock Star Daughter Memoir genre, my favorite. These are all available from wherever you buy books, unless you buy books from somewhere other than Amazon.
But you asked for my idea of a book that can help you understand life in California. I wouldn’t normally do this, but I can think of none better than an actual book about my actual understanding of California. Thankfully, there is one! It’s called I, California, and it’s by—fullest disclosure—me! If you want to hear from a sassy Valley Girl who describes, in florid, lurid detail, what it was like to grow up in Los Angeles, have a negligible childhood acting career, work at the coolest record store on Melrose, pose for Playboy, book the Viper Room, be the West Coast correspondent of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and have a recurring role on Arrested Development, then it’s your book. (I know it’s mine.) Read It and Weep, you’ll read it and reap.
(Please stop me, Gustavo, before I kill again.)
Gustavo: Wow, Stacey, you’re even more of a shameless self-promoter than me—and a Los Angeles Times columnist once called me “the Paris Hilton of the Latino journalism world”! I’m all for your book recommendations—especially your book, of course!—save for the one by Evelyn Waugh, a dour Brit who once wrote an anti-Mexican screed, Robbery Under Law, that was one big whine funded by a British petroleum company angry that Mexico nationalized its oil industry. Que pendejo.
And I see what you did, Stacey: you went mostly historical to dare me to go modern. Well, I’m going to go modern and historical AND top your shameless self-promoting. The University of California Press has an amazing series called a People’s Guide (think Lonely Planet meets Howard Zinn), with blurbs about hidden histories of municipalities and restaurant recommendations, with gorgeous photos, poetry, and more. There are three California editions—on the San Francisco Bay area, Los Angeles, and one on Orange County cowritten by yours truly, with more planned (there’s still hope, Hanford). All have shout-outs to California books and authors, so enjoy your education. And definitely read Steinbeck. The Grapes of Wrath is my favorite book of all time, but stay away from the gopher chapter in Cannery Row unless you want to cry like Christian Hosoi.
Gustavo Arellano is the author of Orange County: A Personal History and Taco USA: How Mexican Food Conquered America. In 2025, Arellano was named a Pulitzer Prize finalist for his work as a columnist for the Los Angeles Times. He was formerly editor of OC Weekly, an alternative newspaper in Orange County, California, and penned the award-winning ¡Ask a Mexican!, a nationally syndicated column in which he answered any and all questions about America’s spiciest and largest minority. Arellano is the recipient of awards ranging from the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies Best Columnist to the Los Angeles Press Club President’s Award to an Impact Award from the National Hispanic Media Coalition, and he was recognized by the California Latino Legislative Caucus with a 2008 Spirit Award for his “exceptional vision, creativity, and work ethic.” Arellano is a lifelong resident of Orange County and is the proud son of two Mexican immigrants, one of whom came to this country in the trunk of a Chevy.
Stacey Grenrock Woods is a regular contributor to Esquire and a former correspondent for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. She writes and consults on various TV shows, and has a recurring role as Tricia Thoon on Fox’s Arrested Development. Her first book is I, California.
