Hobart Autos

In Dave Zanhiser's now-disparaged LA Weekly article (one of my readers complained, "He sounds like a bitter renter"), Dave scribed about the faces of gentrification, including ornamental grasses and gelaterias.

Sure Xeroscaping can be a tip-off, signs of a more educated, eco-conscious owner.
While Gelaterias can be a sign of....I dunno, Italians?

Walking Rocky the dog up Hobart Avenue, between Washington and Venice, handing out my folksy neighbor letter and boastful Oxford flyer, it struck me, the cars:



Honda Elements--two, Volvo's--including the wagon, Honda sub-compacts, a Mini, and a Prius! "Wow," I sounded, clarion-voiced and startling Rocky, "there's probably theme parties, communal vegetable gardens, and reading salons on this block". I continued along, mostly pulled by the dog, lacking initiative, tippling the sophisticated fusion of preservation and anti-status status.

"Must find Chevy Caprice, must find Chevy Caprice....", I droned, not knowing what I'd do if I found a Chevy Caprice. I narrowily avoided a wine and fig glace tasting. "Can't stay," I stammered, "there's a Peckingpaugh film at the Cinemateque". Such reference to violent spectacle, I thought, would lessen their interest in me.

Rocky guided me home.