Oatmeal?

Free-associating this morning. Played with trial version of Aperture photo-editing/ organizing software. Frustrating without training, self or otherwise. Here are Blanche and Eddie licking my morning oatmeal remains. They for some reason really like it. Every day.

As I was trying to come up with a headline, the old movie “Cat Ballou” sprang to mind. To be certain of the spelling, I went to IMDB, then remembered what a good movie it had been, as well as another one with Jane Fonda that came a little later, “Klute.” Lee Marvin won the Best Actor Oscar for “Cat Ballou”; Fonda won Best Actress for “Klute.”

Wish I weren’t an old fart remembering “the good old days” of movies, but here we are. Movies also are good today. The good ones are just harder to find than they used to be.

That movie I saw Wednesday night? I’m glad I accomplished something at the mall beforehand. It wasn’t very good. The movie had its moments but was overall disappointingly stale and predictable, and it sometimes was offensively and unnecessarily condescending to rural Westerners.
Comic timing, on the rare occasions it actually surfaced, only served to call attention to the utter lack of it elsewhere as well as to the unevenness of the script. It’s pretty amazing that Mary Steenbergen was the most appealing actor in the movie. But that actually isn’t saying much even though it’s not her fault. I had better stop because the more I think about it the less I like it.

On this beautiful afternoon during the best time of year to live in Los Angeles, trekking to Century City for a screening is not my idea of the most delightful use of my time, but I do want to see “Did You Hear About the Morgans?” so away I’ll go. With steely resolve I can leave early and possibly/hopefully beat some traffic.

Luckily the Century City mall has a Container Store and Apple Store where I can kill time until the 7 p.m. screening. I need a bin for shoes and I am lusting after a 27-inch iMac with an i7 processor. The iMac would be overkill, though, so I’ll just be looking. The 24-incher I have suits me just fine and has a few months to go under extended warranty. Maybe I’ll buy a Magic Mouse, which actually seems pretty cool. I didn’t like Apple’s previous wireless Mighty Mouse.

For an “old” guy I certainly rely on my computer for a lot. I use it to communicate, to watch a little TV in HD, listen to music — I finally attached it to my Rotel amplifiers and Definitive Technology speakers. Awesome. There’s a disturbing hum when I use EyeTV software for DVR. I guess I need a more sophisticated filter but it only occurs when I’m using the EyeTV interface.

deszczy od tygodnia, dwa tygodnie spędzone między biurkiem a kanapą (dla tego pierwszego tygodnia nie mam żadnego porządnego wytłumaczenia, może poza faktem że po raz pierwszy do dawna zainteresowała mnie książka i nijak nie mogłam się oderwać) w towarzystwie pykającego grzejnika oraz ogromnej ilości herbaty i jabłek (ciekawe, do niedawna wierzyłam że nie lubię jabłek). jeżeli rzeczywiście można umrzec z nudów, mój syn był bliski śmierci spowodowanej deprywacją ruchową i słoneczną. zdjęta żalem spowodowanym dramatycznym stanem środków płatniczych i innymi żalami udałam się na jedyne słońce które ma się nam przydarzyć w ciągu najbliższego tygodnia. karmić kaczki, jako że na bardziej wyrafinowane rozrywki nas chwilowo nie stać. wycieczka w tamte rejony zawsze wiąże się dla mnie z prędką choćby wizytą w sklepie Out of the Closet, charytatywnym przybytku mającym w ofercie wszystko co komuś innemu już niepotrzebne. za 13 dolarów nakupiłam skarbów, przyczyniłam się zbożnym celom (kaczki będą jeszcze tłustsze a towrzystwo walki i prewencji HIV sprezentuje potrzebującym trochę prezerwatyw na mój koszt, moje 13 dolarów na nic innego nie starczy) a rodzina rumiana od zimowego słońca padła jak nieżywa do łóżka i śpi. mogę wklejać zdjęcia z sesji którą całkiem niespodziewanie zafundował mi dzis mój małżonek.

photo by paul b.

photo by paul b.

photo by paul b.

photo by paul b.

photo by paul b.

photo by paul b.

sweter biały : terranova, po siostrze

dwuwarstwowy kardigan/kamizelka : WEZC, sh

marynarka : po mamie Paulinki, przyjaciółki z czasów licealnych (tak, wciąż ją mam! marynarkę i przyjaciółkę też, choć dawno sie nie słyszałyśmy), bierze udział w aifowej akcji nigdy cię nie oddam ,zjeździła ze mna już kawał świata i nigdy nie uległa degradacji pomimo wielu sezonowych czy przeprowadzkowych czystek. marynarkę zawinęłam kiedyś ze strychu w domu mojej przyjaciółki, do której jeżdziło się na wieś przynajmniej raz w miesiącu, na łikęd. należała do mamy paulinki, pani joli. z tego co pamiętam przywiozła ją z paryżewa. no więc ja tę marynarkę/kimono pożyczyłam któregoś razu (pewnie przyjechałam na wioski w krótkim rękawku a zrobiło sie zimno, czy coś) i jakoś nigdy nie oddałam. myślę że jest ze mną już z 10 lat, mieszkała ze mną w szczecinie, krakowie, gdańsku, warszawie, dublinie no i teraz w los angeles. marynara – podróżniczka.

spódnica z kieszeniami: james perse, sh

podkolanówki w roli skietów: target

chodaki: nine west, sh

torba: juicy couture, sh

okulary : h&m

cudne widoki : echo park village

Last weekend, I worked in Pomona. When news of a Tatiana Nicole show at the Whisky a Go Go broke on an online forum I am a part of, and the date was just two days earlier than I needed to come to southern California anyway, a plan for another mini vacation began to take shape.

A month before the trip, I booked my flight into LAX for the morning of Tuesday, December 1, booked a mini van I would need for load out after my weekend’s work, booked two nights in Hollywood and three nights in Ontario, near Pomona, arranged for my co-worker to fly into LAX Thursday where I would pick him up and for him to fly home with me late Sunday night after our work. I booked a park and fly stall near SFO.

With travel logistics taken care of, I let my forum friends know that I was coming to Hollywood for the Tuesday night Tatiana Nicole show at the Whisky. Two of our L.A. area forum members, Scotty and Sean, were going to meet me and see the show with me.

With Wednesday being an off day for me, I contacted my good friend from high school, Ron Pipes. Ron does make up for television and movies. Ron works a lot, has a great reputation, an Emmy award, and is Hell to pin down for a get together. I have traveled as much or more than anyone I know and my work brings me to southern California fairly often. If we could get together, it would be after three years of trying.

On the day before my trip, I traveled to my business partner’s house to pull together the last few items for my last work weekend of the year. Half way to the airport, I didn’t want to return home, and stayed at my son Charlie’s grandparent’s home for the night. I have a good relationship with my ex-wife’s parents, and was grateful for the opportunity to spend the night.

Tuesday morning, up early, I drove to San Francisco, gave up my car, caught a shuttle to my terminal, checked one bag, breezed through security, and boarded my flight at the front of the queue.

After arriving in L.A. and collecting my bag, I walked out to the curb just as my rental car shuttle arrived. I was quickly whisked to the rental car corral where I was given a nice Toyota Siena. The great news was that both the front and rear bumpers showed signs of having been used often, so I wouldn’t have to worry about incidental contact.

My phone is an iPhone, and it quickly provided GPS directions to my hotel. I followed them and found my hotel with no difficulty.

Okay, I have to confess, when I booked the room in Hollywood, I got a great deal, but I thought the room would be horrible. I was willing to save a little money, I was by myself, this wasn’t for work, no one would judge me based on where I would stay. I was prepared to suffer a bit, I was expecting a terrible place.

Oh, was I happily surprised! My room at the Travelodge, Hollywood on Vermont was really nice, the entire property was clean, cheerful, and nice. I was so lucky, just thrilled.

I went for a little walk, and within a couple of blocks, I found myself standing at the corner of Vermont and Hollywood, the Hollywood sign visible on the hill, and the delicious aroma of food coming from a Fatburger franchise on the corner. I ate a delicious King with egg and cheese in the warm sun and read a book. I was pretty happy.

After posting messages of my happy arrival on facebook and twitter, I contacted Ron about our meet up the next day. We agreed to a late breakfast, planning to talk again at 10 AM Wednesday.

My forum mates, Scott and Sean, connected with me through facebook, twitter, and finally phone calls. We would meet at the Rainbow on Sunset, just up the block from the Whisky, at 7 PM for drinks and food.

I got a call from Scotty saying that he was running late, and asking if I could be sure to get to the Rainbow on time and look for Tatiana; she would be joining us and Scotty was running late because of a flat tire.

My iPhone told me I could cover the 6 1/2 miles from my hotel at Vermont and Sunset to the Rainbow on Sunset in just 12 minutes; maybe you can at 4 in the morning. I am thrilled I built in “idiot factor” to the trip and left at 6:15 PM. It took all 45 minutes to get to the Rainbow and park. I walked into the Rainbow at 7 PM exactly, did a quick tour, didn’t see Tatiana, Sean, or Scotty, so I went to the bar to order a drink.

I am old enough to know what I like, but I am terrible at bars. When it comes to mixed drinks, out of the millions of possible combinations, I don’t really like that many. I really would be quite happy with a tropical drink with an umbrella, but it isn’t very manly outside of an island resort bar. I like gin. Gin and tonic, or…Martini! “Excuse me, I’ve decided, may I please have a Tanqueray martini?”

Nice big up glass, two olives, lots of crisp, delicious gin. Yum.

I went outside, to the outside bar, and saw Sean as he was coming in. After a brief introduction, we got down to business. I got Sean a Martini – they cost an extra dollar at the outside bar, hmmpf – and Sean handed over his pack of cigarettes. This would be the third night I would smoke this year. The first long drag hit me like a train. More yum.

The Rainbow cooks a good steak for about $30, but puts the same steak on a piece of bread, calls it a sandwich, and sells that for about half. An order for two steak sandwiches, medium rare, both with salad, one Italian, one blue later, and Sean and I fell into easy conversation.

A mutual friend of ours from Australia has been trying to get Sean and I together since April this year, I don’t know how you can just know two people would get along great. Outside of our shared forum interest, we don’t really have much in common, but our friend was right. I like Sean tremendously, and am incredibly comfortable in his presence.

Scotty showed up next. Scotty has the feel of New York about him. Faster, tougher, maybe a little dangerous. Kind of like a mobbed up, wisely, goodfella. Now Scotty isn’t bent nose. Look at my last name, and you would be right to guess I was raised in an Italian home. I’ve seen Italian, and I’ve seen mob. Scotty is a good guy, but he has that flavor – maybe it is the east coast thing, I don’t know.

Scotty ordered a pie. Pizza pie.

We talked and talked, we ate, we talked, we drank, one more round please, we talked. Interestingly, Sean and Scotty are both from the same part of New York, out on Long Island. While I would never question where Scotty came from, I was surprised to find that Sean wasn’t a native Californian.

Scotty said that Tatiana was running late, was heading directly to the Whisky, and we would meet her after the show.

I just came down to see her. Meeting her was unnecessary. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to meet her, but I really came to hear her rock the house.

Most of you, at this point, do not know who Tatiana Nicole is, unless you have googled her. Tatiana is better known by her full name, Tatiana Nicole del Toro, and rose to some level of fame when auditioning for American Idol last season.

Tatiana Nicole was the best singer on the show last season, and was used over and over, throughout the auditioning rounds of season’s beginning, through to the awarding of dubious distinction awards at the finale at season’s end. Tatiana was the girl with that laugh. She was the one that cried. She was the one seemingly self-possessed to the exclusion of anyone or anything else.

I saw her completely differently. I heard her sing. She had the best pipes of the season. Girl could sing. Big. Amazing pitch. Great control. Whitney? No problem.

The clothing? Chosen to stand out in a crowd and get her noticed by the producers. The seeming over-emotional personality? A combination of reality, giving the producers what they ask for, and editing.

Sean and Scotty and I are members of a forum that saw through American Idol’s manipulations, and saw Tatiana Nicole as the best, most entertaining, contestant of last season.

The week before the Whisky gig, I listened to a pod cast of an interview Tatiana did with another forum member, Aaron, for his internet radio show. Tatiana was lucid, articulate, funny, endearing, a competent self-promoter. Tatiana also revealed that her Whisky gig set list would include lots of AC/DC.

I thought she was kidding.

We walked down to the Whisky, passing Scotty’s vintage Cadillac, took care of the door, went in and got some beers. On stage was the opening band, Controlling All Dilemmas, a quartet of teens, technically competent but needing seasoning and lacking a captivating or engaging quality. Nice, even good, but not great. They’re young, there’s time for them.

After CAD finished, and during a short break, Tatiana Nicole’s band began to set up. During the break, we noticed that Kristen McNamara was in the house to support Tatiana.

Kristen McNamara is from my neck of the woods, in neighboring Napa county, and played Konocti in Lake County. Kristen is practically a hometown girl. I introduced myself, and shared where I was from. Kristen graciously came and met Sean and Scotty, and promised to talk with us more after the show.

Kristen McNamara was on both Nashville Star and American Idol, and is as cute as a bug.

Tatiana Nicole played with a bass player, guitar player, and drummer; and the AC/DC promise became a reality, as Tatiana ran through a set that relied heavily on classic AC/DC and a couple of songs from Led Zeppelin, Black Dog and Whole Lotta Love.

Dressed in painted on black sequined pants, a black and gold sequined sleeveless top, black and gold fingerless gloves, and black high heel boots; hair and face looking beautiful, a perfect combination of features, Tatiana Nicole was a gorgeous rock Goddess, a life size porcelain doll come to life, sexy as hell, strong.

Did I mention earlier that the girl has pipes? Tatiana went through a blistering set with plenty of high notes, some low sexy growling, and an endless array of perfectly delivered notes.

Fun and driving, Tatiana Nicole and her band delivered.

At one point, Kristen was at the front of the stage, and I snapped a pic. Cute black dress, gold pumps, glittery bracelet. Tons of blond hair, gorgeous legs. Nice backside. Hey, I’m a straight guy, and you would have to be blind to not see Kristen is a cutie.

After the show, Tatiana sweetly joined me out on Sunset in front of the Whisky for a picture, and then another picture in our booth along with Kristen.

Kristen, by the way, wants to be known as KMAC. KMAC sounds sort of like a gang member handle; amusingly, she is flashing her gang sign in her picture with Tatiana and me.

KMAC asked me to fly back down for a January 29 SIR showcase, and also said she is sharing a place with both Tatiana and Normund Gentle from American Idol 8. Reality show, Three’s Company style, anyone?

I had more fun than I could have imagined. Thanks to Scotty, Sean, Tatiana, her band, and KMAC. I hope to see you all again.

Wednesday morning at 10 AM. Uggh. I have not had a night with two large martinis and several beers in many years. Although awake, showered, and dressed on time, I was thrilled when Ron suggested we meet later, between 2:30 and 3 PM. I went in search of breakfast. I drove down Sunset to Echo Park, found the Bright Spot, went in and had a breakfast of bagel and lox, with cream cheese, capers, tomato, cucumber and onion slices, and sprouts, along with coffee.

I didn’t feel great when I walked in, but the perfect breakfast made with deliciously fresh ingredients fixed me right up. I felt great walking out.

Ron picked me up in the afternoon and we drove to the original Farmer’s Market in L.A. on Fairfax for a late lunch at Du-par’s. I ate an okay only Patty Melt, honestly nothing special, although the fries were good, and the coffee was alright. Mostly, Ron and I just caught up on classmates who either came, or didn’t come, to our 30 year high school reunion two months earlier.

Ron took me on a tour of the Farmer’s Market. Oh My God! So much incredible produce, and an incredible variety of proteins. Specialty items, foie gras, truffles, uni, caviar. Sur La Table, an incredible kitchen store. I want to live here. Dayum, I love the Farmer’s Market.

After out Farmer’s Market tour, Ron took me on a tour of an adjacent outdoor mall, and we visited some of Ron’s favorite shops including Crate and Barrel and Nordstrom.

Our visit together was only a few hours, but it was perfect. It was really nice seeing my good old friend.

Wednesday night, I was back at Fatburger for some dinner burgers. Some television, some reading. Second great day in Hollywood.

Thursday morning, upon waking, I showered, dressed, and packed to leave. After check out, I went back to the Bright Spot for a leisurely breakfast, eaten while reading.

In time, I drove to LAX to pic Art up. After collecting Art, we drove to the Fairplex in Pomona and set up my last booth of the year for the Pomona Harvest Festival Original Art and Craft Festival.

Work is work, nothing super exciting, or dramatically different than previous weeks, although this is a very good show, and was less affected by the economic downturn. We drew big crowds, and they bought big multiples for year end holiday gifting.

On Saturday, Art had some show food, a Philly Cheesesteak. Saturday night, Art spent the entire night hurling his cheesesteak and another stomach contents into our Ontario hotel room toilet. Art poisoned himself with show food, got no sleep, and was looking really bad Sunday morning.

Sunday, our plan was to work through to show’s end, pack up for shipping, borrow a hand truck to load out to our mini van, drive to a 24 hour Fed Ex Kinko’s on the way to the airport, ship everything home, drop off the van, get a shuttle to the airport, check two bags, and catch an earlier than last flight out standby flight back to San Francisco. Once back in San Francisco, we would collect our bags, collect my van, drive north to Santa Rosa, drop Art off at home, then I would drive to our business partner’s home, spend the night, take care of accounting, write myself a check, and drive home to Ukiah, and spend some well earned time off with my son, Charlie.

We were able to execute the plan flawlessly, Sunday went perfectly, except for Art feeling sick, weak, and hurt, and it was nice to see Art smile as I dropped him at home.

I had another great week.

Thanks for reading.

John

this place is magical and has so much potential.

walking sticks! decorative pillows! hudson point blankets!

pinecones the size of your head

moccasins!

Am I the last person to hear about this? Apparently Echo Park’s Machine Project has put together a book on last year’s LACMA show. I guess the book release party was this past Saturday. If you can’t stop by their spot in Echo Park, you can buy a copy here.

Last night I joined Demotix (“the news by you”) to see how to use the site.  ( I signed up because my students were having problems posting content to various citizen journalism sites. The problem seems to be that most of these sites want images – still and video – and are less interested in text.)

Based in London, Demotix is particularly good with international news, so I posted a photo of a street poster I noticed this weekend in LA’s Echo Park neighborhood supporting the Iranian students who have been protesting the disputed Presidential Election in that country since June. (Demotix did a terrific job facilitating citizen content from the June protests).

Demotix has an interesting model that offers to license your work and share profits 50-50 if a mainstream media outlet buys your content.  It’s kind of like having an agent.  This makes it significantly different from sites like CNN’s iReport or YouTube, where you do the work of collecting the story or image and they make the money.  Think about it.

Random observations:

• Very easy sign-up.  I gave my real name.  If you are trying to get your user generated content out, why use a fake one?
• They wanted a Paypal account in order to pay you if anyone does buy your stuff.

I have been especially struck by Demotix’s efficient dissemination tools.  This morning, I had two emails from them, one that was  written for easy forwarding via email for the old schoolers,  and a second one encouraging me to use any social media networks I have to distribute the link to my post.   The share link gave me a huge range of options, many of which I have never heard of! One was to WordPress, and when I clicked that one, it dumped the url for the link to my photo into this post.

What can I say? I’m a complete sucker for sites that describe their mission this way:

“To give the man and (often more importantly) woman on the street a voice. Whether they’re in Azerbaijan or Zanzibar. A space where they can tell their stories, build communities, and get their news out to the world. We see Demotix standing on the barricades of free speech and civil society.”

Specifically a recipe for bundt or breadpan cake made with dark chocolate bars. As with many things simplicity is the key.

Having stumbled across this thoroughly engaging couple in/on the Wall Street Journal, I return to YouTube multiple times daily to play one or more of their videosongs. Anything for a smile.

FRIDAY IS HERE!

The T$F medallion sample has arrived and been approved for production.  We are excited about the outcome!

Stick around to get one- we got a price so low you can’t afford NOT to buy one!

And in other friday related news…  a close friend of The $tatus Faction will be celebrating the opening of her new exhibit in Echo Park @ Origami.  Congrats to Annie Madison (and Jordan) and PROPS to Annie for always showing her face when T$F performs live and in gallery settings.  You are a good friend!

NOW ALL YOU HEADS READING THIS MAKE WAY TO ECHO PARK AND DON’T FORGET YOUR WALLETS! HA!

We are pleased to present 1451 West Court Street in Los Angeles, California. This commercial real estate is located in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Echo Park, which is adjacent to Downtown Los Angeles and has been the site of widespread gentrification over the past few years.

The property itself is made up of two structures. One is a two-bedroom/one-bathroom detached dwelling and the other is a four-unit apartment building made up of one two-bedroom/one-bathroom unit and three one-bedroom/one-bathroom units.

The only utility expense the owner covers is the general water bill, helping to keep overall expenses much lower than is often experienced with buildings in this area and vintage. The property is located in close proximity to the Echo Park Pool and Boys & Girls Club of Echo Park. The building is being offered with a very strong cash flow and should be a simple and strong asset going forward.

This is an opportunity to own real estate in an up and coming market at a strong rate of return.

-randoms taken by Krim

Stories, a great new bookstore/cafe in Echo Park, has reached the one-year mark, and is inviting friends new & old to stop by and celebrate, Wed Nov 25 7pm-10pm. If you haven’t yet discovered this gem, now is a good time to do so. They’re at 1716 Sunset Blvd, between Glendale Blvd and Echo Park Ave. They sell both new and used books, and have a full cafe opening Mon-Fri at 8:30am (two hours before the store opens), where you can get a variety of breakfast items in the morning, and later a range of sandwiches, soups & salads. 826la East is on the same block; it’s a great neighborhood.

You have to take your hat off to folks willing to open a new bookstore in this economy–so make an effort to do some of your holiday shopping at Stories. In addition to the store and cafe, they have a lot of readings and other things, including storytime for kids during the week, and creative events like a Dear Andy Kaufman Party on Dec 4 . The website isn’t always up-to-date, so be sure to sign up for their newsletter, or visit their Facebook page and become a fan.

If you’ve seen my latest photographic aquisition then you have a small taste of the kinds of items you can find in LA’s newest retailer. Future has a new home in Echo Park  at 1814 Sunset, right next to Origami Vinyl. I was lucky enough to be invited to Part Two of their opening ceremonies gathering..There was no shortage of wine and PBR to get you nice and cozy with the people and garments.

Think 90’s babes in matte heels and boots. The kind of girls that speak multiple languages and don’t really look like they have jobs. The place was filled with them. I loved the ambience of the store and I snagged some old school “Yo MTV Raps” Trading cards. Not just great gear but also some vintage artifacts that will add personality to any space. I saw an old brick Gameboy, VHS tapes , VCR, and a few old Playboy Magazines that may have been stolen from someone’s older brother in ‘92. When  DJ, Josh Casto is spinning classics all night it is hard to stay focused on shopping but the ripe selection of merch in Future get’s you right back on track. I grazed my hand, not only over some choice vintage finds but, sweet labels like Corpus, Cheap Monday, and Alternative Apparel. If only I didn’t have to pay rent I would have gotten so much more than the Polaroid camera I showed you guys  not-to-long ago. It’s not just cool American stuff either, Future is crossing over a few  international brands, one of which is Lazy Oaf, whom Future happens to be the only stockist of in  the US . Who needs the pompous validation of American labels when you can wear  well-crafted threads from England or Austrailia? The party spills into the street as the evening roars on. I kept thinking of all the ways I could play on the name of the shop. If you’ve never been to the Future make sure you swing by . I am making a point to go back to the Future. If your’e looking for some neat conversation pieces or to start dressing a little better or get your friends to stop making fun of your lackluster garb, this is the place. Its a great shopping experience and you’d be in with a great group of people to be part of their clientele in part, because of the location. Echo Park is a hot bed of art and culture in Los Angeles and  favorite alternative to the Hollywood bourgeoise. I still have to get back down there be cause I want the green Dr. Marten’s I saw there for a price to low to tell on the internet. Part of me is even reluctant to publish this as I feel I am giving away what should be a secret find.Selfish as I may be this is too good a location to keep to myself. If you like that “stylish on accident” look, stop in some time and chat with the staff. When they aren’t helping you pick out a garment they make great conversation and could teach you a few things about the world. I’d wager  to say all the ladies in the store are babes; shoppers and staff alike. Yet another reason to stop in but in the great words of Levar Burton,” you don’t have to take my word for it”. Pop in yourself and see what Future is like. I’ll probably be there trying on shoes and trying to flirt with one of the  lady cashiers.  Men’s and Women’s clothes, shoes, accessories and more. It’s enough to add some flavor to your wardrobe and get out of those cheesy outfits everyone is too kind to tell you are crap. The Future is now.Join in.

Future’s blog:  futurelovesyou.blogspot.com

The definitions of words have been transforming for me lately. More specifically the words “home” and “family”. I understand quite literally the meaning of “going home” especially since it is so close to the holiday season. Home for such a long time lived within the parameters of location, mainly the area in the world where you spend your formative years and develop, maintain memories and establish your identity.

Howell, Michigan earns the distinction of this title for me. Howell was and still is an extremely middle class average mid-western town. Nearly smack-dab in the center of southern Michigan, it was never a terrible place to grow up. Home was also the structure, the nearly 120 year old Victorian house, the Red House on the Corner. For me, as well, I established a deep sense of “home” attachment to Hawaii, and the Pacific Ocean due to spending nearly every summer there.

I would never refer to my dorm room in college as “home”. It was my room or my place or 403 or 115 but never “home”. My houses and apartments were also rarely referred to as “home” as well.

Something happened though, since moving to Los Angeles. I realized my deep cravings for a base, a center, a place of my own, a Home. My first apartment was hardly this and when my room mate and I decided to move we had more than just two bedrooms in mind. We had making a Home effect our decision. We wanted a place that was ours, our Home in Los Angeles. This changed everything.

Once we had a place that was ours, we took ownership of the area we lived in. We started speaking of Echo Park as Home. This then extended to Los Angeles being Home. I unintentionally made Los Angeles, California my new Home by centering myself there in a room in an apartment that is mine. Home is no longer Howell. Yes, I do still say I am going “home” for Christmas, but it is with a slightly anxious tone. I will leave my Home for a week to return to the place I grew up, to see my “family” at “home”.

The word “family” is another word with a mutable definition and one that has very distinctly evolved, especially more apparently since moving to Los Angeles. My parents and brother and even cousins, aunts and uncles have all played various important roles in my development as a Real Person, but to my life here in Los Angeles, they for the most part have no real relevance in my day to day existence. This by no means diminishes the love that I feel for them, or the respect I have for their lives. It does mean that I rarely talk to any of them on a daily basis and ultimately because of the infrequency of interaction their opinions and values now have minimal impact on my life. The “family” of “home” no longer is relevant.

My Family in Los Angeles has extended to the people who I feel a strong sense of identity and support and love from. They are musicians, artists, writers, actors, most of whom face the same daily struggles as I do, and all who are ready and willing to share their life experiences with everyone aound them. It is the desire to re-create the acceptance of the “families” we once knew and extend them further into the community that surrounds us. It is the bonding nature of passion.

Passionate, positive people exponentially expand horizons together, sometimes without realizing it.

Today, despite my intense anger at myself for being hung-the-fuck-over for a majority of the day, was lightened by hearing the Music of Vanaprasta on isgoodradio.com.

Vanaprasta has made a vast difference in my life in Los Angeles. These lovely gents have yet to even approach their one year anniversary as a band and already they have not only produced some beautiful music, but they have also grown and evolved in a mystifying manner. It gives me chills to hear the lyrics of their songs and the chords and beats literally bleed with a passion that is hardly paralleled in Los Angeles. Their passion has attracted a circle of brilliant people who mean the world to me. It’s been such a beautiful thing to feel welcomed into a family that cares so deeply about their art. It’s been a blessing.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about the fact that since the definitions of words can be so easily altered based on life experience, that there must be so many more words that have done so since the past year. “Love” is one, for certain. “Love” since it is such a malleable word and a word that can change in weight depending on situations is such a unique word that continuously ebbs and surges with different meanings from practically the first moment you learn of it’s existence. The “love” that you feel for your parents is not the “love” you feel for your friends or your first crush. My father’s “love” for me is not the same way he “loves” my brother. My “love” for Cape Cod potato chips is not the same as my “love” for garden fresh tomatoes. The manner in which people display “love” differs vastly as well as the words used to express thusly. I know that when my father says “Be Safe” he is saying he Loves me. I flat out tell my brother that I Love him. The Love that I feel for my friends, I express in meals cooked in my Home and in hours spent counseling or just laughing.

Love is easy though. Even with all these varying definitions, it is so easy.

I like the idea of Home being in someone. It’s a scary idea but it’s a beautifully simple idea as well.

If Home = Someone,

and Someone = Love,

then Home = Love.

Edward Sharpe, you might just save the world with your music.

I was given the newest Harry Bosch novel, number 15 called 9 Dragons, from the kind people at the Hachette Book Group, and so I decided to pound through the three books that separated me from it’s greatness. It’s pretty spectacular to realize how quickly this series warped over the course of these four books. Again, I point to the futility of writing reviews of books in a series 15 deep, but hey, Nicole’s a harsh taskmistress.

Be forewarned, this may be considered to contain spoilers. If you haven’t read the series, I would highly recommend it. It’s hardboiled detective fiction set in Los Angeles, and it does a wonderful job of both demonizing and romanticizing the city. I didn’t start reading this until I actually moved out here, and Connelly does a spectacular job of evolving his character. Bosch starts out before the LA Riots, and progresses as a character through the Watts riots, the Rodney King riots, 9/11, each time adding a new layer and new wrinkle to the plot. Bosch reminds me a combination of Dirty Harry, McNulty and Lenny Briscoe, and I mean that in the highest regard. Start with The Black Echo and catch up. The series stays fresh, and takes some wild turns.

SPOILERS BELOW

Bosch has rejoined the force after retiring and finds himself working the Unsolved cases — basically he went from Homicide to Colombo to now Cold Case. He’s working with his old partner Kiz Rider, who reminds me of the prototype for Kima Greggs on the wire, a young black by the book detective (also a lesbian — besides the point). Bosch is working one of his old cases — the mysterious disappearance of a young woman — when a call comes in. A serial killer was accidentally discovered in the Echo Park area of LA, having been found with several bags of body parts in his van. The killer claims he will lead the detectives to the locations of nine other bodies — including that of the body of the young woman. But they have to allow him to take him to the corpse and they have to take the death penalty off the table.

It seems like it’s going to be a rote by the book thriller, with escapes and red herrings and Bosch getting angry at the injustice of the system. It felt like Connelly himself had no idea what to do with Bosch at this point anymore. But by the end of the novel, Connelly has essentially gone full fucking Etch-a-Sketch shake with his characters. He kills off or eliminates almost the entire cast of folks. It’s pretty impressive and made for a satisfying blast of air into a series that might have starting getting a little long in the tooth. And I continue to love the hell out of Bosch.

I encountered a man eating out of a residential garbage bin the other day on Morton Avenue, which forks east off northbound Echo Park Avenue at the Magic Gas minimart. Our eyes met for an instant, and he went on about his business, squeezing the last bit of whatever it was out of the plastic packaging. Interestingly, although he was eating out of a garbage bin he was wearing blue nitrile exam gloves to protect his hands.

A day or so later I was heading north on Echo Park Avenue toward home, when I stumbled on crumbling sidewalk and was unable to regain enough equilibrium to keep from falling almost flat on my face on the concrete. My teeth and cheekbone still hurt a little bit, but I don’t think I broke anything; my right shoulder and palm absorbed enough of the impact to prevent it. Felt pretty foolish so didn’t miss a beat, jumped right back up and kept going. Hard to look cool after falling on my face. I walk fast, maybe that was part of the problem, but I was paying attention, looking straight ahead of me when I fell. Not jabbering on my phone.

Sidewalks all over Los Angeles are in crappy condition. This was true in my old Glassell Park and Eagle Rock neighborhood as well as Echo Park. Why can’t some stimulus money be used to create jobs to repair them? There appears to be money for lowering corner curbs for wheelchair access, a project that continues. Why not make the entire ride smooth and make sidewalks safer for everybody?