People ask me all the time why I still live in California.

It’s a fair question.

I’ve spent decades involved in California politics, and these days I spend plenty of time writing about what our political leaders are doing wrong: The taxes. The regulations. Housing costs. Energy prices. Crime. One-party rule.

I’ve watched friends pack up and head for Nevada, Arizona, Idaho, Texas, Tennessee and Florida. I understand why they leave. But me? I’m not going anywhere.

Because the politicians who run California are not California.

My California has boating across the deep, crystal-clear waters of Lake Tahoe, then ringing in New Year’s Eve at Stateline, where California runs straight into Nevada. There’s fishing quietly with a friend on Convict Lake outside Mammoth, and another trip racing through a winter storm on a snowmobile.

In wine country, it might be tasting along the Silverado Trail in Napa County or shooting skeet at Wing & Barrel Ranch in Sonoma County. San Francisco means an authentic dinner in Chinatown, clam chowder at Fisherman’s Wharf followed by Ghirardelli chocolate ice cream — and visiting my brother.

Yosemite is different: I’ve climbed the Mist Trail to the top of Vernal Fall. Once, for reasons I still can’t adequately explain, I did it twice in one day. I’ve explored Tuolumne Meadows, too, and still remember exactly where I was when word spread among the campers that Princess Diana had died.

Around Monterey Bay, I think of seafood on the Santa Cruz Wharf, a cocktail at the Crow’s Nest, the Monterey Bay Aquarium and riding the hillside cable car through the redwoods to dinner at Shadowbrook in Capitola.

Los Angeles? A French dip at Philippe’s before heading up to Dodger Stadium. “Chicago” at the Greek Theatre. “Hamilton” at the Pantages. Lakers basketball downtown, UCLA football at the Rose Bowl, betting the horses at Santa Anita and a day at the beach in Malibu. And visiting Mom and Dad in Playa Vista.

Head south and there’s boating on Mission Bay, everything about the Hotel del Coronado, a day at California’s most amazing zoo — even if somebody decided to build the whole thing on a giant hill — and a spa day at La Costa.

Go north from my home and there’s Santa Barbara and the Central Coast: Waffles in Solvang. Great wine in Los Olivos. Lounging on the beach. Visiting Ronald Reagan’s ranch. Big Bear means bald eagles from a pontoon boat, fireworks over the lake, a cozy cabin and dinner at Peppercorn Grille in the Village.

But then there is Orange County: Whale watching out of Dana Point. Taking a Duffy boat around Newport Harbor. Jersey Boys at Segerstrom. Angel Stadium, especially when the Dodgers are in town.

And, of course, Disneyland and California Adventure. I’m still a kid at heart.

People visiting from other states can get a taste of all this on Soarin’ Over California, the simulated hang-glider ride at Disney California Adventure that sweeps riders over some of the state’s most iconic landscapes.

Living here means we get the real thing. We get to see it for ourselves and, over a lifetime, build our own collection of distinctly California memories.

This is my California. Yours is probably different. That’s the point.

California is so big and varied that everyone who has lived here long enough develops a California of their own. Mine stretches from Tahoe to San Diego, from Yosemite to Dodger Stadium, from Napa wineries to Newport Harbor.

Yours may barely overlap mine. And that raises the obvious question: How do Democrats manage to screw up a place with this many advantages?

Look at what they were handed: An enormous Pacific coastline. Mountains, forests, deserts and farmland. Some of the best weather on earth. World-class universities. Silicon Valley and Hollywood. Agriculture, tourism and ports connecting America to the world.

California should be almost impossible to mess up.

Yet U-Haul ranked California dead last among the states in its 2025 Growth Index. It was the sixth consecutive year California had the greatest out-migration of U-Haul customers. That takes work.

California’s political leadership has managed to make leaving one of the most naturally blessed places on earth a completely rational decision.

I don’t blame anyone who has had enough. But I’m staying. I refuse to conflate the people temporarily entrusted with governing California with California itself. They didn’t create Yosemite. They didn’t fill Lake Tahoe. They didn’t put the Pacific Ocean against our coastline or plant the vineyards of Napa. They don’t own our mountains, our beaches, our cities or our memories.

And they certainly don’t get to chase me out of my home.

So when someone asks when I’m finally leaving California, the answer is simple. I’m not. This is home.

Jon Fleischman, a longtime strategist in California politics, writes at SoDoesItMatter.com.

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