Life in California is full of head-scratching questions—like, Why does In-N-Out have so many “secret” menu items that are anything but secret? So Alta Journal has enlisted two experts to answer your pressing queries: 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’m a frequent work traveler to Los Angeles. I get so excited when I spot a celebrity! What’s the protocol in saying hello and (gasp) asking for a photo?
—Shy and Starstruck
Gustavo: Not to toot my own tuba, but fans ask me to take a photo with them at least twice a week down here in L.A. I’m happy to comply! I always tell people who hit me up on IG and let me know that they saw me somewhere but didn’t interrupt me to feel free to interrupt me next time. Without fans, celebrities are just schmoes. But my star status is somewhere between that tortoise that ran away from a burning shed earlier this year and a Dodgers ticket scanner. When it comes to true stars, I’d stay away. There’s an old adage that suggests you should never meet your heroes. I won’t be able to see a Will Ferrell movie again without remembering the time I told him that my wife graduated from University High School in Irvine, his alma mater, and his response was “OK!” Or the time my wife and I went to a Bravolebrity’s appearance at a bar in Costa Mesa and he ignored us because we weren’t 23, blond, and drunk. As Us Weekly always writes, stars—they’re just like us! They want to be left alone and will most likely be total jerks if you’re not going to give them a role in the next Avengers movie.
Stacey: I’m from Hollywood, where celebrity entanglement is just another factor to consider as you go about your day. Apartment listings might as well read “Close Proximity to Freeways, Shops, and Jack Black.” The only famous person I ever chased down was Kevin McDonald from Kids in the Hall. At the time (the ’90s), stars of little-known Canadian TV shows didn’t walk the streets, so my harassment of him was probably more about me—as in, Look how cool I am for recognizing you. Should you decide to approach a star, there are three rules to follow: (1) Make it snappy, and (2) don’t be weird. And (3) before you gush about your favorite Amy Adams movies, make sure you’re not talking to Isla Fisher. Just say something like “Excuse me, Mr. Arellano, I’m a longtime admirer of your work. May I have a photo with you?” Then complete the action swiftly, don’t linger, and don’t bow so deeply when you back away that you bump into Chalamet.
I was raised in the Midwest and was taught to never arrive at an event empty-handed. But I’ve found that here in California, many of my guests have no problem showing up without so much as a bottle of Two Buck Chuck. Is this a Golden State thing, or do I just have rude friends?
—A Disappointed Host
Stacey: It’s not a California thing. It’s a laziness thing. Many people assume that the “What should I bring?” “Nothing, just yourself!” dance literally exempts them from this courtesy. It does not! But please know, if I show up to your house empty-handed, I at least have the decency to be riddled with guilt about it.
There are people who don’t agonize over such things. They’re called men, and if you happen to be making the rounds with one of them, be prepared to defend the extra 30 minutes it’ll add to your travel time to find the right wine or flowers to show that you were raised right. Then you can get down to the business of waiting patiently for your hostess to tell everyone about the great thing you brought.
Gustavo: I think it’s written in the Midwest Constitution that everyone is required to keep a hot dish on them at all times, so y’all are a people apart. Here in California—where Midwesterners who loathe hot dish have migrated for over 140 years—we’re far more chill about such matters. That said, if you don’t do something to help at a party—wash dishes, crunch down the trash can, tell your favorite celebrity horror story—then that’s when you’re rude. Did I tell you about the time Benicio del Toro got mad at me because I asked him if he thought Puerto Rico should become a state, remain a commonwealth, or declare its independence?
Is it really illegal to pick a California poppy? I’ve been worried about this for nearly 50 years.
—Rumor and Rule Follower
Gustavo: California Penal Code 384a(a)(2) states that people cannot “willfully or negligently cut, destroy, mutilate, or remove plant material” on public or private land without permission from the owner under maximum penalty of a $1,000 fine, six months in the county jail—or both! But it doesn’t say anything about a trained monkey. You’re welcome.
Stacey: Hold on to your harvest basket, Follower: It’s illegal to pick anything that isn’t yours. Confining your thievery to just our state flower isn’t more illegal than picking, say, a freeway daisy. Nor is it subject to any added charge if you do it within 500 feet of a school, or anything like that. In other words, there’s no one sitting in County for crimes against poppies. You may pick all the poppies you want, provided they are on your property (and you don’t convert them into heroin that you then sell to kids within 500 feet of a school).
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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.
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.
