A missed block of local history

Mobile pic c.2011

Yesterday was off to a frustrating start. I woke up with a full blown flu, I was out of medication, and I had two library books that were due. I tried to renew the books online but they were put on hold by someone else. Unfortunately, I didn't have a choice but to take them back in my condition. But I figured I could get some fresh air and pick up some much needed medicine.

After I dropped off my books, I wasn't in the mood to hang out and browse. (You know I must have been really sick) I met up with Chris and we decided to walk over to Little Toyko to have a early dinner before my medication reload. We walked along 5th St. past Pershing Square, which I hate to do late in the afternoon due to the nasty rats that like to run by. Aside from the rat anxiety, the fresh air was a nice contrast to my feverish forehead. As we crossed the street onto Hill St., Chris pointed to the ground and smiled.  My reaction? "Wow, that's old school!" It's strange that this piece of pavement has been left alone years after Thrifty's became Rite Aid. It's stranger that this piece isn't in front of a Rite Aid. It's even stranger that I've repeatedly missed this piece of pavement.  

I'm sure I'm not the only one that has memories of trips to Thrifty's specifically for the ice cream. Rite Aid still sells the well known ice cream under its former name, but it's not 29 cents anymore. In our household, Baskin Robbins ice cream was for extra special occasions. You can label Thrifty's ice cream as the proletariat's ice cream. Coconut Pinapple, Black Cherry and Rocky Road were my favorite flavors. They still are. I remember I couldn't wait until I was old enough to finish a triple scoop on a waffle cone. Come to think of it, I never got to do that. I think I know what I'll order on my birthday. 

Has it all been done?

No More Ideas c.2010

Whenever I walk through the streets of L.A., I often ignore people that walk by me. This might have originated during my upbringing. My mother was a very young when she had me and was in her early twenties by the time I started school. She's very pretty and received a lot of unwanted attention in her youth. One of the first social lessons she taught me was how to ignore men. Anytime she received an inappropriate cat call she would instruct me not to look at the person and to simply keep walking. As I grew up, that tip evolved to apply to everyone. I've walked right by old friends and even celebrities because of my tendency to look straight ahead or to look down.

Looking down as I walk has had it's advantages. Aside from finding coins and avoiding dog shit, I've also noticed artwork that can be missed quite easily. I was walking in downtown one day when I saw the following message stenciled on the sidewalk. "No More Ideas". I'm sure this is intentionally vague, but it got me thinking about my own love of photography. As time progresses it seems that everything that can be done artistically has in fact been done. Have we really gotten to a point where every style reminds the viewer of someone else's work?


I believe every person brings a different perspective to their work, visually or technically. This can be true even when intentionally duplicating a style. Whether the end result is any good is another story. In a time when Hollywood studios keep filming remakes, TV has been swarmed by the reality programming, and new artwork looks familiar, it's understandable to think we're out of ideas. Many like myself try to prove that this isn't a fact, and at the end of the day, we all hope we're right.

Lonely girl c.2010

Walking right past natural beauty

SoCal winter morning

 Mobile picture c.2011

Have you ever repeatedly walked by a certain spot and then suddenly notice something different? It happened to me recently. I was leaving for work one morning when the blue morning sky gravitated my attention upward. Three gorgeous trees had just been trimmed by city workers due to the high winds. There have been ongoing problems with large branches breaking off and blocking the streets, not to mention the danger to pedestrians. Unlike other parts of the country, winters in southern California are never truly frigid. As a result, it rarely looks like winter around here. Perhaps looking at the snow capped mountains and christmas lights are our reminders. I'm not complaining, however it's pretty well known that we don't have four seasons down here. Also, the seasons we do have don't always come in chronological order.

 That morning felt different.  There wasn't a heat wave or a freak storm. The combination of the crisp, "California cold" morning air along with the naked trees felt like the perfect SoCal winter day.  Or maybe there wasn't anything too different about that day. Perhaps the only difference was that I stopped rushing and took a second to notice the beauty has been across the street all along.

It's not polite to stare

Staring c.2011

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On Friday nights, I often go to Hollywood after work just to detox a bit. Whether its to eat a bite, browse through a bookstore, perhaps run a few errands. Riding the subway to Hollywood makes much more sense than to drive there. Everything I need is around the station, and I don't lose 30 minutes stuck in traffic and another 30 minutes looking for parking.

As you can imagine, there are some interesting characters and sights on the train alone...as well as in hollywood alone. Put the two together and who needs a book to stay entertained?

I had already finished my book earlier in the day, "The Castle in Transylvania", so I didn't have anything to look at other than my fellow passengers. When the train approached the next stop, a flood of passengers came in and a woman caught my eye immediately. Ok, I admit I liked her scarf. But then I noticed her sternum was sticking out of her chest. I turned my focus onto her face and sure enough, she was anorexic. I'm sorry to say that my first thought was, "I've never seen one in real life before". Maybe there was another explanation, but that was my assumption. Others looked at her too. She was nothing but skin and bones and didn't look like she would survive this year. She was well dressed and had some make up and it was clear she wasn't homeless. She sat down right in front of me. It was interesting watching standing passengers stare at her as she read her book.

Several stops later, a man with a tattered T-shirt and a guiter along with his two children came into our section of the train. He announced that he and his kids hadn't eaten dinner yet asked if anyone could spare any change after their performance. They sang "Help!" by the Beatles, which was quite fitting and sounded sincere. I found it incredibly ironic that they performed in front of the skeletal woman. I didn't have any change to give which saddened me. I do give spare change to people that ask, so I always feel a little extra sad when I don't have any change to give to those that actually do something other than just beg.

I walked away from that ride feeling badly for both, the hungry woman and for the hungry family, although it was for two very different reasons.

A Happy Sign

Knitting is for girls c.2011

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During my rides on the train, it isn't uncommon to see passengers partake in their hobbies, whether it's reading, writing, knitting, sleeping etc. My ride home today was a little bizarre. I get on the first stop of the route, so the trains layover for several minutes, even during rush hour. After the train filled up, some time had passed and everyone started to get a little restless. The beeping sound that signals the closing of the doors kept sounding off non stop. Everyone knew something was wrong. After several minutes of annoying beeps, the conductor announced that there were technical difficulties and everyone had to transfer onto the train on the otherside of the platform. Groans were heard all around as everyone got up out of their seats and rushed over to the otherside.

I was able to find a window seat. Just as soon as I had sat down, an older man in a work suit sat right next to me. He immediately smiled at a young guy sitting right in front of us. I hadn't noticed that the young guy was knitting. The man next to me asked him, "how many times have you heard 'I've never seen a guy knit before'?" That's when I noticed that older man next to me was also knitting.

I admit, I've never seen a male knit before, and there I was, sandwiched between two men who were knitting. They were so close to me that I couldn't get a picture of both of their hands in the same frame. I snuck some pictures, although I really wish they had turned out clearer.

While I was doing this, I received a call from an out of state phone number. Since I was in the middle of taking pictures with my phone, I instantly picked up the call. It was the phone interview I had been waiting for. It was for the volunteer spot for Habitat for Humanity's Global Village program. I was smiling to myself during the phone interview. Perhaps sitting next to the only two male knitters in the city was a sign that something out of the ordinary was about to happen.

The interview went well and I'll be off to Romania for a couple of weeks later this year. As George Bailey might say, "Holy Mackerel!"

New Year, New Start

Central library c.2011

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New year's resolutions. I know the majority of people have the idea that a new year's resolution is only an attempt at a goal rather than a goal waiting to be accomplised. I know everyone says this, but I really do have every intention of sticking to my resolution. Well, at least the one I have relating to this blog.

After being without home internet service for exactly one year, I decided to do something about it today. I wasn't boycotting any service, but not having the internet at home simply ...just happened. I was using the library's service and the service on my phone, which is why I didn't feel any sense of urgency to have another connection. However, I wasn't able to spend as much time at the library with my new schedule. Blog entries and other personal projects backed up as a result. I like the quiet environment at the library and it made it easier to gather my thoughts there, but I'm going to have to practice self discipline at home and stop making excuses.

***

2010 wasn't my favorite year of the decade. Actually, it ranked pretty close to being the worst of my 20s. But here I am, still standing in 2011 and completely open to optimism instead of absolute realism.

Speaking of optimism, something happened two days ago that made me smile. Let me back track a bit. Two weeks ago, I sent in a volunteer application to Habitat for Humanity's Global Village program. They ask applicants to list their top three location choices. I relunctantly filled out the other two choices even though I had my heart set on El Salvador, my mother's country. After a few of days, I only heard back from the team leaders of my other two choices, Romania & New Zealand. I wasn't thrilled about these places but their program dates are the most convenient.

After reading the responses from both team leaders, I was beginning to like the idea of volunteering in Romania. I'm ashamed to say I don't know too much about the country other than their strong Olympic gymnastics history, and Transylvania, but the email was very enthusiastic and detailed. I wrote back to the Romanian team leader expressing further interest. After few email exchanges, it was settled that I would be contacted for a phone interview very soon. As the idea of going to Romania continued to brew in my head, a "sign" came my way two days ago.

I went to Borders in Hollywood for no apparent reason. As I was browsing through the travel section, I talked myself out of buying any guide related to Eastern Europe. I didn't want to get too ahead of myself. What if I'm not contacted or it simply doesn't work out? I'll be disappointed and I'll be out $25 on a useless guidebook. So I wandered over to the fiction section, specifically to the "V's". It's no secret that I'm a fan of Jules Verne. I looked and I hoped I'd find a copy of one of hard to find books that I've only read online. I found something better. Off at the end of the shelf I saw a small purple book with a title I had never heard of. "The Castle in Transylvania"

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Um, what?? A "new" Jules Verne book set in Romania? It may be a freaky coincidence but I am choosing to see this as a happy omen. I bought it without any hesitation. On the way home, I read that this was published in the middle of 2010 and it was the first english translation since the 1890's. The story was also written 4 years before Dracula (which is next on my reading list). I think it's pretty obvious the publishers are trying to capitalize on a certain teen vampire series, but that's ok since it worked to my benefit. Heh.

Not only am I choosing to view this discovery as a sign of a new opportunity abroad, but also as a sign that other things may fall into place in 2011. It may sound too "Pollyanna" but I'm ok with that.