In a Changing Los Angeles, Thank God for the SoCal Beach Dive Bar

Los Angeles is the artistic and financial hub of Southern California. But at the same time, my hometown and its surrounding counties are rapidly losing their identity. Film and television production began to flee in the late ’90s, and it has only gotten worse over the last 30 years: Wildfires have increased 30-fold over the last four decades, and ICE raids have terrorized the vibrant immigrant communities that make up the fabric of our interconnected cities. Hell, we can’t even brag that “at least it’s a dry heat” anymore. 

But at least one legacy, thank god, remains: The SoCal Beach Dive Bar. You know them when you see them. In Southern California, stretching from Imperial Beach and the Tijuana border on the south end, up to somewhere in Santa Barbara County (the northern dividing line is not official), coastal towns are littered with them: the kinds of breezy bars filled with flip-flop degenerates of all economic standings, knocking back pitchers of domestic beer and perhaps a flattop-griddled cheese burger with a side of potato chips. These salty saloons—some dating back to the early 1900s—are not necessarily on the beach. Thanks to consistently escalating land values, the best of these bars are often within smelling distance of the sea, but a few minutes’ walk from those pricier shores. You can feel the beach in these places, even if you can’t see it. These old briny watering holes are for people who want to be near the ocean, even if they haven’t stepped into it for months or maybe a decade.

Here is how you know you’re in a SoCal Beach Dive Bar: The decor is often tiki-adjacent (the tiki bar was invented in Hollywood, by the way), or nautical in nature. Sometimes, like at The Harbor Room in Playa del Rey, or The Galley in Santa Monica, it might feel like you’re drinking in the belly of an old wooden ship. Old wood is a plus, so are places without credit card machines (though these are getting more and more rare).