Life in California is full of head-scratching queries—like, Are Steve Hilton and Paul “P.K.” Kemsley the same person? So Alta Journal has enlisted two experts to answer your pressing 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!
Have you seen the man on Instagram who says the Los Angeles River is one of his favorite places to swim in the world? It has never occurred to me to take a dip in this body of water. Good idea?
—Afraid of Parasites
Stacey: Exactly—“the man.” Only one guy does this, and we will miss him dearly when he finally succumbs to any of the bacterial infections currently taking root in his digestive tract and open wounds. It’s not a river like you might be used to—the L.A. River is a concrete channel for unfiltered street runoff, not to mention a toilet for the unhoused population who live along it (and, presumably, anyone who doesn’t want to wait in line for the bathroom at Spoke). While there are parts of the L.A. River where, if you really must kayak, you may kayak, you should never swim in it, fish from it, sail a little boat on it, or really even look at it. Actually, don’t even think about it.
Gustavo: Homeboy seems to be swimming in one of the two parts of the L.A. River (near the San Fernando Valley and Griffith Park) where you can regularly find a good water flow and healthy-looking plants, as opposed to the sad, gross slither of muck that people usually think of when trying to describe the once-mighty waterway. Stacey correctly points out that you can kayak in those parts—but you can also fish along the banks from Memorial Day to September, if you’re into a fine botulism bouillabaisse. Swimming, however, remains prohibited not just because the water is yucky but because the river is deadly. The whole reason that most of the L.A. River is as scenic as a sidewalk is because flooding in 1938 killed dozens and convinced federal and local authorities to dam up the thing. But sure, Swimming Guy: Swim!
We can’t all be cool. Who is the most overrated Californian?
—Curious in Carlsbad
Stacey: We must first decide what makes someone a Californian. It’s not a birthright: Tucker Carlson was born in California, but is he Californian? (That’s a great big no.) Goldie Hawn is the essence of California, and she’s from D.C. California’s own historical society named Scotsman John Muir the greatest Californian of all time, and since I find most native Californians to be appropriately rated, I’m going to give the honor of Most Overrated Californian to Rick Rubin.
Before you throw your Rubin face mask, dress, or pillowcase at me, consider the following: The guy’s made one, maybe two, good records, and word around the console has always been that he’s rather, uh, hands off in the studio, preferring to sort of sit cross-legged and philosophize while someone else does all the heavy knob-twirling. He’s little more than a glorified life coach and meme-ster. If anything, he’s part of the creative director class, which is not at all creative and way too directive. (Discuss.)
Gustavo: While I respect Stacey’s Rick Rubin roasting, musical homeboy also produced the American Recordings series with Johnny Cash, which is one of the greatest collections of songs…wait, I just remembered that the Man in Black nearly killed off the remaining California condor population in 1965 after he accidentally set off a fire in Los Padres National Forest, so screw Rubin for helping out Cash! But my vote for the Most Overrated Californian still goes to Father Junípero Serra. So a guy sets up a bunch of Catholic missions—and? The Spaniards would’ve still conquered what’s now the Golden State if his Franciscan ass had stayed in Spain. Instead, Serra subjected California’s Native American populations to serfdom, and his aesthetic led to a bunch of rich people centuries later trying to emulate those bad old days by putting tiles on their roofs and anointing cities with faux-Spanish names like Mission Viejo, Colusa, Corte Madera, and George Lopez—OK, maybe not that last one, but there’s another overrated Californian!
The internet is flooded with drone footage of sharks swimming under surfers up and down the West Coast. Were they always there and we’re just now seeing them, or what?
—I’m Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
Stacey: It’s that age-old question: If a shark bites a surfer and no drone was around to record it, then what is the sound of one foot clapping? And the answer is, Stay out of the water. Global warming has probably supplied our coast with a few more sharks—mostly juveniles who use it as a setting for their ocean takeovers—but also, drones allow us to see them more than ever before. And while shark attacks are very rare, and become rarer still if you don’t bother them for selfies, the ability to watch great whites loafing around a few feet under other people far exceeds the thrill of getting tubed. If you really want to risk your life, try swimming in the L.A. River.
Gustavo: “We predict it’s going to be a very sharky summer,” Chris Lowe, of the awesomely named Cal State University Long Beach Shark Lab, told the media again and again earlier this year in the most awesomely terrifying quote of the summer. Scholarly homeboy attributed the increasing numbers to a brewing El Niño event, which warms up the Pacific and expands the roaming grounds of sharks. But toothy meanies are everywhere you look in California right now, from the halls of Sacramento to Silicon Valley to what’s left of Hollywood’s studios to that wolf pack in the northeastern part of the state that’s treating cattle like its own personal Bunch of Lunch. At this point in our history, you’re probably safer throwing your lot in with a pack of Jaws Jrs. that just, like, want to be, man.
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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.
