Too much sun. Too much cool. Too much transience.

Fickle fans. Pretentious wannabes. Lousy kaiser rolls.

As the world’s entertainment capital, L.A. functions as a talent vacuum. The city’s recording and movie industries suck up talent wherever they find it. Their sports franchises, rich in cash if not devoted fans, do the same.

Every city in America has lost actors, singers, directors, writers, centers and shortstops to L.A. Most get little in return.

Philadelphia, however, has managed to gain something in the exchange.

Philly to L.A.

Frankie Avalon Maybe all those unwatchable beach movies would have been improved if they’d been set in Wildwood and he’d been teamed with, say, Lynne Abraham instead of Annette Funicello. Given his familiarity with South Philly cheesesteaks and Brylcreem, it’s no wonder he was cast in Grease. Our gain.

Kevin Bacon His father, Edmund, was an influential city planner in Philadelphia for decades, which means he proposed beautiful urban projects only to have the residents shoot them down. Frankly, given some of the bad movies Bacon has been in, several degrees of separation between Bacon and Philadelphia is just fine with me. Our gain.

Chuck Barris After departing his hometown, Barris created The Gong Show and claimed in an autobiography that he was a CIA assassin, a pedestrian resume in L.A. Our gain.

Larry Bowa Technically not from Philly, he might have been the most hyperactive Phillie ever. Watch the 1980 NLCS, played in an era before Ritalin. Bowa bounces around so much – on the field, in the dugout, in the clubhouse – he resembles a puppy happy to see its master. The Dodgers’ third-base coach now, he appears to be playing bicoastal Ping-Pong. Born in California, he played here, managed in California (San Diego), coached and managed here, and now coaches in L.A. Our loss.

Boyz II Men Four-time spelling-bee losers turned R&B sensations, they were super as boys, not so good as men. Our loss.

Kobe Bryant We got A.I. in the same draft, so don’t talk about all the drama Kobe would have brought. He always knew he was too cool for us, and has the rings and gold medal for proof of his rightness. But he lost us the day he took Brandy to the Lower Merion prom. He didn’t even know the girl. Still . . . Our loss.

Wilt Chamberlain When he went to L.A. after his second Philly departure, Wilt got an NBA title, a house on a hill, and a role in Conan the Destroyer. Big deal. He also won a title here, could have lived in Sharon Hill, and, if he’d wanted it, the lead in Bertie the Bunyip was his. Our loss.

Dick Clark We had him when Bandstand was a phenomenon. L.A. got the host of $25,000 Pyramid. Our loss.

Bill Cosby The Cos may have left but, except for showing up on the board of the St. Louis Rams (owner Georgia Frontiere was a friend), he has stayed remarkably loyal to his hometown. No wonder. Real places like Philly produce comedians. L.A. doesn’t. There’s nothing funny about malls, highways and ahi tuna. Our loss.

Mike Douglas How many kids walked into the house after school to see his show on day after day? I liked the man and hated the show. Not sure why on either. Our loss.

Eve As the actress and rapper’s career has ascended, her naming creativity has dropped like a stone. During high school in Philadelphia, she went by the name “Gangsta.” She then sang with a group called Dope Girl Posse. And the best she can come up with after that was “Eve” Our gain.

Fabian He had a cool name and a handsome face. That was about it as far as I could tell. But, hey, if you’re good-looking and have no discernible talent, L.A. is the mecca. Our gain.

James Darren (See Fabian.) Our gain.

W.C. Fields On the whole, he’d rather have been in Philadelphia, but it was tough finding straw hats here. The great comedian actually was born in Darby, where he learned how to talk funny, drink hard and yearn for escape. Our loss.