The president will be in town this weekend, but Angelenos needn't worry about his motorcade sweeping other vehicles off the freeways, or binding traffic on surface streets.
Oh, there will be the obligatory photo ops, and even a rare news conference, but a jostling horde of media monkeys will be nowhere in sight.
And a portion of Southern California's populace will swell with patriotic pride.
A very, very small portion.
Not that the president isn't a popular figure. He's handsome, distinguished, articulate and highly educated.
As their homeland's head of state, his fellow Icelanders wouldn't have him any other way.
The visit of the Honorable Olafur Ragnar Grimsson, to formally open the headquarters of an Icelandic-American geothermal energy company today and to confer with executives of other energy firms, is sure to be a low-decibel affair. He's flying in via commercial airliner from Hong Kong, after attending the 2007 Special Olympics World Games in Shanghai. His entourage numbers two.
For local Icelanders, who, at perhaps 200 souls, might constitute the smallest ethnicity in ultra-polyglot L.A., Grimsson's sojourn summons an easily roused delight in their unique history, language and national character.
Local immigrants, many of whom work in the music and film industries, say they constantly feel the visceral tug of their sparse, volcanic, moody island.
"The connection to the old country is incredibly strong among Icelandic people," said Atli Orvarsson, a film composer who has a studio in Santa Monica. "When I was in Boston for three years going to college, all of my Icelandic friends couldn't wait to go back home. Most of them were counting down the days."
Icelanders here tend to make frequent visits home. Many families put a premium on preserving kinship ties and ensuring their children learn Icelandic. Husband and wife Veigar Margeirsson and Sigridur Jonasdottir of Westchester have been in the U.S. since 1993, but return to Iceland at least twice a year.
They and their children, 13-year-old daughter Ragnhildur (nicknamed "Rocky") and 4-year-old son Viktor, are heading there next week. On Thursday, the Iceland Symphony Orchestra is premiering a concerto by Margeirsson, who composes for television and film.
"It's a priority for us," said Margeirsson, who, like his wife (called "Sirry"), is 35. "We always keep one foot there."
