10 at 10

FM radio station 100.3 ("The Sound") recently aired an LA themed 10-song block:

1. I Love L.A. - Randy Newman

2. L.A. Woman - The Doors

3. Los Angelinos - Billy Joel

4. Walking in L.A. - Missing Persons

5. Coming into Los Angeles - Arlo Guthrie

6. Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers

7. Los Angeles - X

8. Free Fallin' - Tom Petty

9. Blue Jay Way - Beatles

10. Valley Girl - Frank & Moon Unit Zappa

The Thin Grey Line (Returns)

Concrete, amongst the most permanent of records, continues its recital (please see The Thin Grey Line 10/20/08).

A curb cut from 1974, at the probable expense of a parkway palm (an original landscape element). Likely when the alley-accessible garage was converted to a granny flat.


Flower power, and speaking of summers of love...





The summer of '79: People's Park protests, Donna Summer, Howard the Duck, Apocalypse Now, the Islamic Revolution, Juan and Nancy. Juan and Nancy forever. Right on!

More Coattails

Another special election, another ambitious politico bandwagoning or Barack-wagoning. This time Assemblymember Curren Price, described as "one of Barack Obama's earliest supporters", tries for a little iconic assist. What fun.

Maybe I should author a mailer: 'Like Barack Obama, I am of mixed origin with strong ties to Hawaii, please support my community organizing and real estate ambitions.' Then I could riff a little on the Stimulus Package and water conservation, throw in a chart, and a photograph wherein I'm playing soccer with children in Chivas jerseys.

Attaway to Coattail, Herb!

Christmas came late to my house, with the arrival of a calendar from Herb J. Wesson, Jr., councilmember of my home district, number 10. The calendar is titled, President Barack Obama Councilmember Herb J. Wesson, Jr.. Despite a distinct height differential, the two make a snuggly-pair as evidenced in the cover image (left). Councilmember Wesson is angling for re-election, and the message couldn't be clearer: if you like Barack (and with a 68% approval rating, there's a gambler's chance you do), you'll like me--we're BFF.

Mr. Wesson's a pretty good concilperson really, and his staff's hard-working with deep ties to the district. He's a heckuva a lot better than his short-lived predecessor, disgraced labor shill, Martin Ludlow.

But back to the calendar, which fully exploits now-president Obama's sole visit to the district nearly two years ago. President Obama is pictured with councilmember Wesson, cops, councilmember Wesson and city council colleagues, in a crowd, with councilmember Wesson's wife, in a crowd with councilmember Wesson, and with councilmember Wesson.

My favorite captions read: 'Councilmember Wesson and Senator Obama discuss the need to bring more federal resources to the City of Los Angeles', and 'The Senator took time to autograph several of his books for our constituents. Did you notice that, like Councilmember Wesson, our new President is a "southpaw?'

Rumors are, councilmember Ed Reyes is preparing a dayplanner wherein his image is married to those of Felipe Calderon. Nah!

More Signs on Trees

Our celebrated sign-maker is back with more religious ramble (see Signs on Trees 2/23/2007 and Signs on Trees Part 2 3/19/2008).

I spotted another of his lengthy transcriptions whilst cycling (on Jefferson near Central), but it was gone by which time I returned.


An editorial near Virgil Village:
Congress
Calculate
Regulate
Make
Mortgages
Affordable
Do
Your
Job!!!

What a great stencil. Who could resist?

Zapaterias on Maple

Three shoe repair businesses with hand painted signs on Maple Avenue.

As evidenced by the proliferation of LED video display billboards, we haven't the most committed sign control in Los Angeles.

I've often joked about seeking public office on a platform solely concerned with aesthetics. Obviously, that would mean support for historic districts and design review boards, tree planting, and mansionization ordinances. I'd also police sign clutter.

Most municipalities have sign ordinances (some govern how much display glass can be covered, for example), but seldom are they applied.

"Bootleg" signs appear everywhere, fastened to chainlink, stapled to poles, promoting musical acts, offering services.

Those bootleg signs I got an issue with, these boot signs I kinda like.

Three Images

Pictures of Mickey Mouse taped to a window in an abandoned dwelling.
According to sociologist Jose Vergara, Mickey enjoys unrivaled transcultural appeal.


The exquisite marquee of the Union Theatre, now home of the Velaslavasay Panorama, in West Adams' Victorian Village. The Union, once the home of a union (of tile workers), was originally constructed in 1921 and heavily remodeled in 1939.

An unusual pocket window, glimpsed in the bathroom of an 1898 Queen Anne cottage. The sash window recesses into a pocket fronted by a built-in mirror. Cool.

No Club to Join

Here's my latest sales pitch: experienced buyer/seller agent available for assignment, no club to join.

I can't even buy a measly tube of toothpaste without bothering over some plastic strip. I've so many club cards they've outgrown my wallet. A few retailers request a phone number instead--preferable, but still sometimes confusing. Might the account list the home number, or the cell number, the office number or the wife's cell number?! "Fuck, just give me the discount," I once blared, "and don't make me feel like a profligate loser!" A cluster of pancake-sized Guatemalan ladies, also in line, shook their heads in disapproval.

So that's it, no club to join, no cancellation fees, no contracts (unless it's a listing of course), no junk mail, no outsourcing. Lots of opinions....Hmmm, maybe that's where I've gone wrong.

Three Responses

1. I will write a piece about the Althouse Brothers, probably in a couple months time, after I've snooped around Alhambra a bit.

2. The abandoned cars were not a mural, but the remnants of a firefighter exercise on Manhattan Place between 20th & 21st streets.

3. Another example of dayplanner doodles.

Signs on Trees Part 2

Another installation from the writer of scripture (see Signs on Trees), banishing demons, and enlisting serpents, on a bold, red field. This posting, contrary to form, wasn't coupled with a Spanish language equivalent.

A re-sale solicitation for infant formula? Some kind of WIC/black market scheme, I'd guess.

Billings are more common along commercial corridors and are especially plentiful in the "sewing machine district" South of Washington, East of the Harbor Fwy.

I'm interested mostly in the hand-written. This creation was jacketed in Saran wrap.

Notices for plomeros, often stenciled, are frequent. Sometimes a phone number is given with the four number suffix broken in half (for example 213-733-76-58).
I asked one plumber about his marketing plan.
"Escrimas (fences), " he laughed.
"De cadena (of chain), I responded, knowing not at all how to say chain link.
"Mostly," he replied in unaccented English.

T.G.I.M.?!

It begins about 6 a.m., the low rumble of sanitation trucks.

I love Mondays. No really, and it isn't on account of prime time football, salmon shmears at the office, or a discounted call plan. Monday is trash pickup day.

As the din of hydraulics and flapping plastic lids approaches, my anxiety builds, in fear of an extended silence. An overburdened can rejected, passed over by a cross-faced, grudge-holding, union stooge.

Many weeks I'm flirting with the allowable weight limits, back straining, canister bulging loads. Today's mix: asphalt shingles, topped with household waste, and plywood scraps. Yes sir, construction debris.

My immediate neighbor and I have an unwritten pact, I'm allowed to top off his black refuse container, in exchange for curbside placement and retrieval.

The other neighbors know as well, "while I'm away," they offer, "can you take care of the cans?"

Sometimes there's other projects in the neighborhood, and deals are struck: "I'll save space in my green for your landscaping project, if you let me stuff my layout board in your recycling."

I hate to pay for additional disposal. I know there's trash haulers galore and cheapo dump sites. Heck I own a pickup, but even so....

It's amongst those things I hate to pay for.

The List of Things I Hate to Pay For (Top Five)

1. Additional Sanitation Charges (see above).
2. Parking: I will arrive 15 minutes early, and park 1/4 mile away to avoid a valet.
3. Water: I have a filtration system in my refrigerator, a one time cost.
4. Television: I know all the best things are on cable. I know there's great sports--that's the problem.
5. Anything Sold on Airplanes.

Three Abandoned Entries

Some of my entries are pretty banal admittedly, these failed to even rise to that level.

1. Kindles Donuts on Manchester. This was going to read, 'you don't need to go to Randy's in Westchester for programmatic architecture or chocolate sprinkles....'

2. There's a woman who drives around Expo Park West/University Park/North University Park gathering plastic bottles in her car. No point.


3. Something about Sock It To Me Cake (possibly named for a Laugh-In skit), or maybe Muslim bakeries, or maybe both.

Spelling Bee

Cimarron St. runs North to South, mostly alongside and parallel to Arlington Boulevard, through numerous mid city and South L.A. neighborhoods.

For what was Cimarron named? There's several possibilities: a river in Northeastern New Mexico, wild, mountainous sheep, a strong tea drink of Portuguese origin (chimarrao). In Spanish, cimarron refers to African slaves who ran away from Spanish masters.

Lately and for reasons I couldn't account, I'd trouble spelling the word, often adding a second "m." On a walk last week, the source of my spelling discomfiture became clear, different street sign renditions.

Both photographs were taken at the intersection of 27th & Cimarron. Below and above.

Guess the Location (again)

1. Burnt bungalow shell bounded by boring box-o-miniums.

A. Venice
B. Inglewood
C. South Los Angeles


Answer: A (Abbott Kinney Boulevard)

2. Tatty craftsman with front yard billboard, wall of cinder block and chain link.

A. Venice
B. Hollywood
C. South Los Angeles

Answer: A (Abbott Kinney Boulevard)

3. Neon-clad body art parlor in handsome 1920's storefront

A. Venice
B. San Pedro
C. South Los Angeles

Answer: C (Washington & Harvard Boulevards)

What is this? Part 2

It's to repel flies. That's according to at least six of my well-informed readers. The hanging, liquid-filled zip lock creates a feeling a movement, that chastens houseflies. A couple of buyers linked to a site called straightdope for the details (www.straightdope.com).

The brick pile is vanquished, stacked neatly and subordinately against the garage. Plus arch-enemy bougainvillea has been humbled, made to fear my pruning shears. So what now? Once I finish painting the tree house, I hope to stucco the concrete block wall, so it doesn't look like, well, concrete block.
My first open at 1522 S. Hobart was well-attended and I'm planning another Sunday soiree, noon to five. Yet more images of Hobart.

What Is This?

A bag filled with clear-liquid push-pinned to a finished header?

I've seen a lot of head-scratching stuff on the real estate circuit. I've uncovered weapons and drugs, lots of pornography. A couple of times I've stumbled onto cock fights or cock fight facilities. Family members sleeping in hallways and closets. Bomb shelters and full scale basements. Houses in which every available inch of wall space is consumed by televisions. Vegetation growing into and through the structure. Old cars mothballed for decades. Hidden passages. Animal remains.

Does anybody know what this is for? Incidentally, the house was empy.

Project Updates

Scrapin', scrapin', and scrapin'. The brick pile didn't seem to get much smaller.

Mechanical aids? US Patent #4557246 is for a brick cleaning machine (a brick is moved by conveyor through a series of cleaning stations). Might that be a cost effective way to accelerate my project?

Ultimately, I decided to outsource.

The workman was late, naturally, but he still toiled for 5 and 1/2 hours while I chipped in for two.



Good brick pile. Good bricks. Good.


Near the bottoms of the tumble are broken bricks, too many for a single collection day. Typically on Monday mornings (the beloved garbage day!) I push my wheel-barrow up and down the block dropping 4 or 5 broken pieces into each neighbors refuse container. One neighbor has two black bins, into which my spillover waste is frequently deposited. As part of an unspoken exchange, I often wheel his trash containers to and from the curb, before and after pickup.

I'll have this brick thing licked by the summer.

Signs on Trees

Electrical poles and streetlights are commonly "papered" with notices and fliers, recording industry promotions and pleas for los perros perdidos. Trees on the other hand are seldom festooned, respected as living things and quasi-private possessions.

Sometimes, revoltingly, a tree is tagged, often after the tree is adorned with a bright headlight-reflecting stripe.



My favorite, from the 2000 block of Oxford, presumably a No Parking sign, engulfed by a broad, unyielding trunk.






Scripture, sensitively fastened by string. These signs appear in many places, presumably the work of one, in English and Spanish. (32nd Street near Hill)





Los Angeles mayor Antonio Villaraigosa is spearheading a praiseworthy initiative entitled, Million Trees LA. As with most urban forest ventures, it encourages tree planting.
With my infinite powers, I would make tree planting mandatory. Every (plantable) lot in Los Angeles would be required to host at least one tree. Plant it, or face a property tax assessment!


And no signs, please.

A Lazy Blog Entry

Monday started like this:



I stopped by the Lentini's duplex, to pick an old wall-hung cast iron sink. Their upstairs rental boasts a sly, double-hinged bathroom cabinet. Incidentally, anybody searching for a spacious, two bedroom rental, rife with Craftsman cool, should check out their site:

http://web.mac.com/bendewald/iWeb/Cimarron%20Partners/Listing.html




Later I drove East on 8th Avenue, past the former site of the Ambassador Hotel. Its absence intensified my concern for the future of the Los Angeles Sports Arena. The truck was drawn south to Exposition Park.





Tomorrow I'm getting inside.

What Next, Phone Boxes?

The London Routemaster, perhaps the most famous of all double decker buses was removed from non-heritage route service in December 2005. Two of these celebrated red buses are now parked in a Pico-Union lot.



Perhaps they're on the way to Davis, California, where the University has operated vintage double-deckers since 1968.

If our Red Cars can wind up in Buenos Aires....




Visible from the corner of Union and Washington.