Firsts

I've done and seen a lot of things bu not everything. And this weekend I witnessed a couple of fascinating things I'd never seen before.

First first:
I saw the glow of plankton as the waves curled over the shoreline just after sunset. It looks like there's hundreds of blue neon lights under the ocean. It is a phenomonal chemical reaction taking place in the plankton called bioluminescence and it is a sight to behold.

Second first:
I saw pigeons humping. Like copulation in much of the animal kingdom it was a violent act that, although obscured by a bush, drew our attention because of the furious flapping and flattering of wings accompanied by screeching.

Dog Days of Summer

The remaining days of summer in LA, at least on the westside, are glorious with warm, breezy, cloudless skies. It's lovely to just meander our coastal towns and explore some of the unique and treasured offerings. The Venice canals, once reviled, have been cleaned and preserved by insistent neighbors paying a ghastly penny to live on them. I think the canals are part of the Ballona Wetlands conservancy and home to a multitude of birds such as geese, egrets and herons. Other wildlife species are attracted too like butterflies, lizards, and small fish as a result of the abundant food supply, no doubt. The dirt pedestrian path is maybe a couple of miles round trip from the jetty in Marina del Rey where you can gaze upon million dollar yachts, chartered fishing boats and small sailboat rentals alike cruising out to the open sea. Likewise, you'll pass multimillion dollar mansions and beachy cottages along the edges of a marshy estuary. The history of the canals is sordid beginning with a dream of one man to emulate the legendary Italian canals in this similarly Mediterranean climate but then as funding became scarce and the Beatniks and hippies became enamored with the area it just became overrun with algae and derelicts until the gentrification of the 1990's. Now it truly is one of the hidden LA treasures unifying birders, sun-worshipers and real estate developers. It's just far enough off the beaten track that it's mostly locals and their leashed friends which makes it a really nice experience, presuming you scored parking - not an easy task near the shore in summer. We even snooped around a 6 level house being built that looked like it had an elevator shaft going through the middle of it and then got in the dirt to rub the belly's of a couple of wanton basset hound pups. It's a lovely way to get a little exercise, a little vitamin D and an education in what lurks in your own back yard.

ATT SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

With great regret my ISP and wireless phone services are both with ATT. I have been a customer for roughly 20 years in one capacity or another. Serious consideration as to my loyalty has come into question as I'm continuously sucked into their vortex of horrific service. I've had spotty internet service for the last 3 weeks and have called as many times to get the issue resolved. I am currently on hold now for 42 minutes and 49 seconds. I keep getting transferred around and told to call back Monday because they cannot locate my account record. I would gladly provide my account number if I could access my email to get it off the electronic statement. Finally after an hour on the line they are dispatching a technician to hopefully correct the problem once and for all.

Mid-day Reset

Atop a bustling, frenetic Los Angeles rise countless hundreds of hills and canyons, creeks and crevices to which one can easily retreat to find quiet and solitude. Today at lunchtime I left the cacophony of LaLa land behind and took a hike.

Only 15 minutes drive from my office I shed high heels in favor of Keens and started a gentle ascent up Rustic Canyon in the Topanga Canyon State Park. I've decided I'm going to climb Mount Whitney next summer, which is the highest peak in the Continental US at 14, 496 ' so it's going to take some training. While local canyon hikes alone aren't enough to accomplish the job it's a nice respite from work and every little bit of effort counts. In addition to strength conditioning I'm going to have to ramp up my endurance and aerobic threshold. Though gentle enough it was still a climb and had me sporadically winded. I can't say exactly how much distance I covered because I forgot to turn on the nifty pedometer app I just put on my phone but I was walking for 1 1/2 hours. Part of that time was spend descending 504 steps to get to the creek bed. My car was parked at the top and we all know the laws of gravity.

It's amazing what you notice when you step away from the distractions of city life. The first thing that hit me was the fragrance of fennel. That distinctive smell of black licorice mixed with underlying hints of pine and the wet hayish smell of late summer grasses. Simply fresh. Padding along the path, alternating composites of dirt and pavement, I followed the trajectory of butterflies storing up what's left of summers nectar. I swear I was even followed by a lizard because everywhere I turned there it was. I even spotted him or one of his cousins doing push-ups on a tree trunk. I wondered if it was some kind of machismo mating exercise or maybe he was just telling me to buzz off. Other than oodles of song birds the only other noise I could detect was the faint hum of single engine airplanes swooshing the clear sunny sky. The majesty of coast live oak trees high above the path along with welcoming ocean breezes made most of the hike a considerably pleasant one.

I even stumbled upon an old compound no longer inhabited but I read that it was owned by Nazi sympathizers back in the '30's. It was surrounded by 3 layers of barbed wire and hidden behind a crumbling wrought iron and stone gate. Once inside the parameters there was a huge deep concrete cylinder, now gutted, burned out and riddled with graffiti. I was totally creeped out wondering what it was used for and even more so when the wind kicked up and made the eucalyptus trees sway, creaking as if someone was there. Chilling! But even the weirdness is beautiful. And the fact that I only encountered 4 other souls, mountain bikers, was even more blissful.

I realize I've been remiss with keeping up this journal of sorts. I am backlogged with months of material and drafts that I couldn't find the interest to complete. So forgive me if I go backwards in time to catch up now that I've found my voice again.

Terrorists!

We live in urban Los Angeles but there is a lot of wildlife right in our back yard. We have squirrels which eat out of our hands and respond to the names we've given them. A family of opossums has to been known to set up camp in our neighbor's walk-in closet. Over the years we have been awoken many nights by raccoons playing on our roof or jumping from tree to tree outside the window. It's actually quite amusing and feels like we're living in the wilderness at times. Jackson was always very keen to pesky little intruders onto our property and charged out from a snoring slumber to chase them off. Now that our dutiful watchman has retired the antics have been ramped up.

Frankie, our 7 1/2 year old cat, has a penchant for indoor/outdoor living. (No wonder, it's like a jungle out there!) We used to have a winterized pet door in our bedroom before the new construction started but it was relocated to the garage during the project. Frankie would never use the door and I couldn't figure out why until I observed him one day. It had 2 thick plastic panels so I presume he couldn't smell through both to determine what dangers lurk beyond. As a consequence we've had to replace the access panel with a flimsy flap that he'll use. We also have a little cut out in the door between the garage and the kitchen just big enough for Frankie to fit through - mind you, he's a pretty big cat. Basset Hounds are one dog breed that will eat themselves to death so we could never leave his food down and Frankie's was always elevated so Jackson wouldn't scarf it. Frankie has been eating his food atop Damon's workbench in the garage for his whole life. All aforementioned details aim to set the stage for what happened last night.

We pulled in the garage using the opener and noticed that Frankie's food station was in utter disarray - water and food dishes tipped over - the Tupperware canister storing his food opened and laying in the puddle of water on the floor, the trash can was askew with its bag shredded and hanging half in and half out of the pet door with wet tracks scurrying away from it. Damon grabbed a flashlight to see a gigantic masked rodent hurdling the fence and shooting a perturbed glance our way. I, myself perturbed, cleaned up the mess and brought the food in. Knowing that raccoons are highly adaptable creatures I thought perchance I was making an error. I have no interest in having the cat food inside our house - it's messy and it stinks; a dirty outdoor cat is bad enough let alone having his food and litter inside as well. With that I brought the cat in and we went to bed.

Frankie is a bed hog and I nodded off feeling him nuzzled into my legs restricting any movement not unlike any other night. Some time later I shot straight up in bed hearing an alarming noise. Someone was inside our house! So I shook Damon awake and we lay there listening a moment so we knew what kind of weapon we'd need to combat our perpetrator. I realized Frankie was no longer on the bed and said "oh it's just Frankie having a midnight snack." Damon wasn't satisfied and grabbed the flashlight and headed quietly down the hall. What he saw was a small family of raccoons noshing on Frankie's food in our kitchen! He obviously startled them and one by one they scampered off through the hole in the door.

So here we are strategizing at 3 am about how to outsmart raccoons, which unless you have a gun is no easy feat. I have no intent on killing or trapping the little vermin as our neighborhood is where they've made their home. I imagine the family has outgrown the food supply or perhaps they are simply opportunistic and the temptation was far too great. What I know for sure is that we must coexist. I need the raccoons to remain somewhere on the perimeter of my house and my cat needs to feel comfortable in his environment. If they run into Frankie he will lose that vicious battle. I think he recognizes these odds as evidenced by curious behavior that warned me he knew something had overrun his rule for which he was no match.

We have decided to test the boundaries of nature. Tonight we are leaving a small amount of food in Frankie's dish on the workbench with the lights all ablaze. If the light doesn't deter these nocturnal creatures we'll pick up the food for a few nights and establish a pattern of fruitlessness. Maybe they'll pass us up if there's nothing to steal. When we can decide on the esthetic we'll install a motion light in the backyard which should spook them enough to skidaddle. As a last resort we've learned of a special cat door with RFID collar whereby the cat approaches an electric door and his personalized collar activates a sensor which opens the door securing the notion that only authorized entries allowed. Terrorists be gone.

No tampering and nonsense last night. Fingers crossed.

Goodbye Friend, Teacher, Love of My Life

Jackson went to heaven tonight. Here's a little poem in memorium.

He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog.
You are his life, his love, his leader.
He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.

I will love and miss him till the last beat of mine.

Big Scare

As you know Jackson has been living with cancer for at least 18 months. We are fully resigned to the fact that we will lose him to the disease some day sooner than later. We thought that day had arrived over the weekend when he appeared to be knocking on heaven's door. The tumor is growing in his colon which restricts his natural elimination process. We asked the vet how Jackson would let us know that the time has come and he said that he will likely start vomiting. That dog has an iron stomach and has rarely barfed in his whole life so when he threw up 3 times on Friday in conjunction with a couple of days of lethargy and moaning when his belly was rubbed we thought the end was nigh. I picked up some opiates to help ease his pain and administered the pill with his meal on Friday night which he enthusiastically consumed and held down. He had a few hours of deep restful sleep but then was up all night long in and out, back and forth. When we arose Saturday morning he was covered in mud as though he'd been digging- evidenced by the fresh dirt piles in the yard. Was he digging his own grave or tripping out on the meds? His eyes were vacant and he seemed both agitated and withdrawn. We were certain we couldn't put him through another day of suffering and prepared to call doctor death. (The vet will make a house call so he can go to sleep in his favorite spot, the bench seat of Damon's truck, rather than the cold slab of a sterile room.)

Until this week his attitude and behavior was virtually unchanged so it was a little shocking that things could turn so grave so quickly. We had already discussed that as long as he could eat and get belly rubs we would leave him be and take all our queues from him. He loves to "gossip" around the neighborhood and romp with his friends. All of a sudden he started crying in pain and didn't want to walk. Of course he lives to eat so that wasn't a problem but defecating was. He's been nothing but a devoted and loving companion to us so the least we could do for him in return was to let him go gently and peacefully. He is not afraid, has no regrets, no guilt. It appeared as though he was holding on just for us. After a nice long walk on the beach he refused his meal on Saturday night as we prepared to say goodbye. But something made us wait for morning... the tide had turned a little. He voraciously scarfed down his breakfast and demanded a walk. Since then he spends the afternoons lounging in Damon's truck as we stroke him, eats his meals and wags his tail.

Today is Tuesday and he seems to have made a miraculous recovery. I don't want to get my hopes up as I've heard that sometimes there is a brief resurgence in energy before going over the rainbow. But wait! I learned that Jackson had gotten a hold of some raisins last week - one of few human foods HIGHLY TOXIC to dogs. The symptoms he was exhibiting are completely consistent with toxic poisoning. Jackson is a tough little fighter with a obviously strong will to live. He's probably thinking "God, I wish the cancer would hurry up and kill me before my owners do!" - hearken back to the drowning incident of 2 years ago and the swallowed bone last year. We are so undeserving of this precious being but so thankful that he forgives us and wants us to continue rubbing his belly.

SF Redux

May 2010 - delayed reaction

San Francisco has my heart just like the song says. I have innumerable memories of the place - a place that has been the theater for many of life's joys for me. My Mom loves it too, though her reasons are likely different than mine, but it is a place we love to enjoy together. SF always guarantees an adventure; what with her charming characteristics and interesting characters. Our adventure started when we decided to take the train into the city from the airport. We didn't get in until after 9pm on Friday night so by the time we picked up the train it was getting to be witching hour. All of a sudden a nervously hyper youth barrels through the dividing doors into our car and sits adjacent to us. Moments later another guy follows and pushes his way into the seat next to him. He was highly agitated and launched into some sort of rant addressed to the crowded train. The accompanying string of profanity he spewed was even too much for me to take so I called him on it and let him know that he was out of line. My mom was visibly shaken but I wasn't about to let this little punk intimidate people just trying to get where they're going. After a choice exchange he darted off the train into the night.

I picked a hotel in the mission for it's centrality and cacophany of activity - shopping, museums, restaurants, theater, etc. - Parc 55. It's hip, clean, great city views, and decent service although they cheekily charge for coffee and crumpets sitting out in the lobby looking like it's complimentary. We decided to chill out in the lounge with a night cap before turning in without any specific activity planned for the next day. The weather was quite cool and we were sadly under-dressed most of the time since SF is a wonderful walking city. We woke up in time to get a tour bus to Muir Woods. We've been before but it is so spectacular that repeat visits into the redwood forest are always awe inspiring. I guess my mom took most of the photos of our trip so I'll have to paint a picture with words. Here's a snap of my mom and her "friend" overlooking Tiburon on our way to the woods pictured on the right. It's so hard to capture the beauty and scale in a photo. You really have to wander among the trees to appreciate their magnificence and an entire ecosystem that thrives amongst them and beyond as a result of their existence.

The tour bus stopped in Sausalito that afternoon and we opted to stay awhile and take the ferry back to the city. We weren't starving but needed a little nosh. Noticing a very long line outside a nondescript storefront with a little faded sign that said hamburgers was enough to get our curiosity. We sat in the town square park next to the fountain and shared our fries and one of the best burgers EVER, made to order and served from a rotating grill. We meandered a little, gallery gazing and window shopping in this cute little water town by the bay with stunning SF views. With Lappert's ice cream treat in hand it was time to catch the ferry back to the city.

From where we docked near Pier 39 the Coit Tower stood tall in our sight line under the sun-soaked afternoon. Neither of us had ever been so we agreed to walk up, up, up Telegraph Hill to the art-deco concrete building resembling a fire hose. The tower was constructed in 1933 as a monument to the SF firefighters. From atop the tower you have unobstructed 360 degree views of the entire bay and city to the ocean. It's stunning. Equally stunning and totally unexpected are the murals painted on the walls of the interior rotunda commissioned as part of the New Deal. They depict life and sentiment of the time and are a must see.

Each time my mom and I get together we take in some culture. As our luck would have it every major company in town was on summer hiatus - the ballet, the symphony, the opera - all wrapped. And to add insult to injury the only mainstage theatrical performance in town was that God-awful Wicked. Totally depressing. So we nuzzled up to the concierge and told him of our plight. He handed us a poorly photocopied calendar of events, most of which were past-tense, and way down on the bottom in dark print as though the page had been crinkled was an ad for the Smuin Ballet. The write-up sounded interesting enough but more importantly they were performing on the right day and time and still had tickets available. Literally a few blocks from our hotel in the beautiful Novellus Theater at the Yerba Buena Center for the Performing Arts we entered with no expectation from this dance troupe presenting a program executed in 3 acts. The first was a refined, accomplished classical routine supported by a Mahler recording performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. It was lovely - not boring, but not special. And then the seduction began. Strong, edgy, sexy and a positively captivating modern dance experience. The Smuin Ballet, a company I had never even heard of before, is forever on my radar screen and one I will seek out on future visits to SF.

One of the best neighborhoods in the city is, of course, world-famed Chinatown. I'm sure if you ask 10 people what intrigues them about it you'd get 10 different answers. Damon's is the fresh plucked ducks lynched up by their drumsticks hanging in the storefront windows awaiting their fate with the deepfryer but mine is the dim-sum, beating only slightly, though, the myriad roots and mushrooms of every shape and size claiming medicinal properties sure to cure every disease known to man. There are so many restaurants in Chinatown that it's really hard to choose the one that is authentic and fresh and just plain yummy. We set out with a task to get the best dim-sum and ended up at Great Eastern on Jackson. Who knows if it was the best in the city or not but it was darn good and super cheap. I love dim-sum because since I don't speak Chinese it's like Christmas morning opening those little wrapped packages called gao (rice dumpling) or bao (flour bun) to reveal a flavorful, saucy little gem inside (seafood, meat, poultry,vegetables or a combo). We were feeling cocky after effusing over the dishes we'd ordered and thought we should go for something a bit more traditional like chicken claws. Now you'd think they would be deep fried and battered and served with some special sauce or something right? In other words, mask the fact that they're chicken feet. These were slimy barely cooked ligaments and veins and vile little bones doused in a tangy sauce. Yuck! Completely inedible. Good thing the tea flows like water to wash it all away and cleanse the palate.

It was Sunday and we thought perchance we could catch a service at the Grace Cathedral. So we hopped on the cable car (for about 2 blocks - what a rip but it WAS uphill so I suppose it was worth it.) Mass was in progress but they welcomed us in. Afterward we learned that there was a docent guided tour beginning shortly. We toured the beautifully crafted cathedral learning of it's origins and commitment to piety, inclusion, art and beauty. The etched outdoor labyrinth is the first thing you come upon after passing through the meticulously kept lawns. It sets the stage for the stunning "doors of paradise" on the church's threshold. Other incredible features are the numerous stained glass windows with nods to biblical parables as well as modern innovation and science; the murals depicting religious life and works; the pipe organ, the alter which boasts the preaching presences of Rev. Martin Luther King and the Dalai Lama; the neo-classical architecture very nearly matched in the old and new construction; and the Aids chapel among many more gorgeous and symbolic works of art.

This weekend was the "Bay to Breakers" race. It's an annual event 100 years old drawing people from all over the world to celebrate the spirit of San Fransisco in a 12k race from the Embarcadero spanning across the width of the city and culminating in a frenzied party at Golden Gate park. We had already planned to spend the afternoon in Golden Gate at the Japanese Tea Garden and the DeYoung, time permitting. Since it's quite a ways out we decided to take the economical route and ride the bus. It was so busy getting around the city because of traffic that we had to wait for the bus for an hour. And then when we got on it was so crowded with "spirited" B-to-B partiers. We finally made it to the park which was jammed with freaks in pink tutus and lime green cod pieces loopy to the point that my mom was a little nervous walking around even though the place was crawling with cops. I had to remind her that SF is the birthplace of peace and love, man. We braved the bus ride back to the hotel including an encounter with a falling down drunk superhero. Batman was bobbin'.

It was a busy and exhausting weekend and we covered a lot of ground so we decided to have a low key dinner close to the hotel. Turns out one of the best Indian (dot not feather) restaurants in town is directly across the street from the hotel called New Delhi on Ellis St. We celebrated a great weekend and made plans for our morning send off. Whenever I'm in town I love to eat at Dottie's True Blue on Jones. Damon and I have been eating there for 15 years. The frittatas are so amazing it's worth enduring the inevitable line of patrons. It poured rain all morning but we walked down there anyway only to find that the line was an hour long and we were starving and pressed for time. I was annoyed but my mom saved the day by asking the bellhop at the Four Seasons where a good breakfast place was and he recommended the Taylor Street Coffee Shop which was great. A brief wait when we arrived and a long wait when we left so get there early. We had a couple hours before we had to leave town so we spent it shopping in Union Square which is always fun since they have chicest shops and an entire floor at Macy's dedicated to women's shoes. Score.

As usual flying is anything but hassle free. We arrived at SFO and went to the counter to see if we could upgrade since I had some free coupons - probably from the last lousy flight. The gent said the flight was full so no upgrade but since we were a little early and another flight was leaving an hour earlier from a gate 2 doors down did we want on it. Sure, why not? Well I'll tell you why not. Our earlier flight ended up leaving an hour later than our original flight with us sitting on the tarmac for 2 hours. Hence, another free ticket as amends for the inconvenience. Good thing SF is a place I love to return to...agro and all.

Roller Derby Rocks!

Remember those raucous roller rag chicks of the 70's? Well Roller Derby has had a resurgence in the last few years and the heat is on. The LA Derby Dolls all-star team, The Ri-ettes, met The Iron Curtain from Tuscon Arizona last weekend at the Doll Factory here in Los Angeles. Players like Titty Titty Bang Bang and my fav, Lace N' Arsenic, strap on to throw down the likes of Helen Wheels and Psycho Babble on the famed bank track. Unlike the 1970's games which appeared to be nothing short of that phony baloney wresting nonsense this is a real game with real rules and jam-packed action. My friend and I were lucky to get a spot at the railing to hold on and enjoy the ride. The game (surprisingly) attracts people from all demographics - hipsters, punks, old white men, couples, birthday celebration-ers, and everybody else. It's an awesome representation of how the world's inhabitants should coexist.

All members of the nationwide teams, crews, staff, announcers, doctors, etc. are volunteers. In fact like so many other amateur sports teams the players actually pay dues. And they come up with some pretty funny names. Gori Spelling, # 90210 on her jersey, was befitting for our town. And then there was Laguna Beyatch in the house proppin' for the O.C. The rules of the game are quite simple and clear. In an hour of total play - four 15 minute quarters - each play is called a jam, up to 60 seconds in length as determined by the lead jammer. The blockers, 5 girls from each team, try to prevent the jammers, one from each team from scoring points. Points are scored as the lead jammer, the first girl who gets around the rink once, passes the opposing team's blockers. This particular game was a bloodbath with a final score of 176 (LA) to 85 (Tuscon). In fairness, it was announced that this was the 1st game the Iron Curtain had played on a bank track, so not a bad showing in all consideration. There's a live band at half time out in the parking lot where plenty of gourmet food trucks wait to serve. Beer and wine is sold but bring plenty o' dough 'cause nothing's cheap, except admission ($20). Check it out. From slingshots and body checks to tripping and skidding it's a riotous event of tough chicks slamming each other that won't disappoint.

California Senate Debate '10

The state of California is in a state of flux. We're broke, can't pass a budget, unemployment is in double digits - 12.2 % as of June 2010 U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics - and it's an election year. My instinctive reaction is to fire every incumbent, as they are obviously incompetent in their jobs and let the new crop give it a go. Up for grabs is the governor's position and the junior senate seat currently occupied by Barbara Boxer, a career politician. She's "served" the people of California since 1993. Her feminist record is one of liberalism and credited with being a stauch leader on many a noteworthy project. However, if you look closely at her voting record she is a spendthrift and given our current state of affairs I would consider this record less of a service than a disservice. At this stage of the game I think fiscal conservatism is in order. It's time to guard the purse and stop squandering the precious little resources we have. Stop regarding business as the enemy and running them out of the state with tax impositions and regulation. We need a level-headed problem solver rather than an idealistic, partisan egoist.

I have always been an independent thinker and have never been registered as anything other than an independent voter though, if labeled, I consider myself socially liberal and fiscally conservative. It's time we install persons to represent our interests with some business acumen. Someone who understands responsibility, accountability and consequences. Boxer has been complicit in all our political crises in recent years simply by being on the role if not her direct vote. I've never warmed to her views so I admit I'm somewhat biased going in but after listening to the debate between her and Carly Fiorina the other night I believe the choice IS clear, as Boxer trumpeted throughout, and that is we should boot the bitch out; her and her 18 years of pandering and let someone with real-world sensibilities reign.

California is one of, if not thee, critical state in the union. What happens here sets the precedent for succession federally, and globally I might add. Plus, as a border state, we have some unique issues. Boxer is just too reckless when it comes to spending frivolity. Check her voting record on the issues that matter to you. I'd rather put my money on the woman who ran a company than the one who helped run California into the ground.