I’m back to living in Long Beach. It’s where I grew up and lived for 22 years, until getting a job in San Bernardino.

I survived the culture and climate shock of the move to Berdoo (People buy groceries while wearing slippers? It’s 100 degrees for four consecutive months?!?) and lived in the Inland Empire for 30-plus years.

And now I’m back at The Beach. And just in time for one of the few downsides of being here.

The Long Beach Grand Prix.

Not only do I live in Long Beach, I live in downtown Long Beach. (Which isn’t quite as scary as it sounds, but more on that later.)

And it is downtown Long Beach that is the locale for this silly seafront race the city has been hosting for 34 years now.

The race course is only four blocks from where I live. Now, I imagine some of you would say, “Cool! You can walk to the race!” But having motor sports next door to me is as pointless as a bordello inside Vatican City. Zero interest. More than a little disdain.

(I covered this race more than once, almost always under duress. Cuz it was there. Sort of like, oh, the Redlands Bicycle Classic.)

Still, I could live with the traffic build-up on the streets around me … and the parking crunch … if it weren’t for THE NOISE!

Yes, ALL CAPS is SHOUTING in online communication, and IT’S THAT LOUD.

And it’s an UGLY loud. A whiny drone that seems to penetrate directly into your skull and bang around till your ears bleed and you want to strike someone. Say, someone on the city council who signed off on this thing, again.

And just to make things worse, perhaps for fun, the cars have been on the track seemingly every waking hour since Thursday afternoon. And also some NON-waking hours.

Take this morning. The cars fired up at 7:15 a.m. Yes, 7:15 a.m. on a Saturday. That’s deeply immoral.

It woke me. Of course. I’M FOUR BLOCKS AWAY. THEY MAY AS WELL BE RUNNING THE RACE IN MY LIVING ROOM. THEY COULD BRING A GUY OUT OF A COMA, IT’S SO LOUD.
Now and again, they pause for a bit. And you think, “Oh, it would be nice if they gave it a rest for an hour.” But then it starts up again. Practice for this or that. Qualifying for this or that. “WHIIIIIINE! Uh, WHIIIIIIINE!”

Luckily, I’m about to leave town for the rest of today and drive to the IE. Maybe by Garden Grove I won’t be able to hear the cars anymore. Maybe.

Tomorrow, though, Sunday, I will be up bright and early. The racers will see to it.

By Monday, they will be gone, and Long Beach can get back to breaking down the elaborate stuff it puts up to have a race on its city streets. It will involve nothing noisier than large trucks and jackhammers. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet.