Turtles and Massage Towels

There is something so awesome(ly bad) about this photo: turtles and massage towels, conveniently for sale together? Gotta love Chinatown and all the odd juxtapositions.

Lady Fish Paste, and Other Delectable Chinatown Treats

We went to Chinatown today (as you know by now, from all the other blog entries) and I couldn't help but be entertained by some of the food offerings.

Why do I NOT want to eat "Lady Fish Paste"? And I love that when I google the term, it returns no "hits" referring to the company or what the heck LFP is. No, the only results for "Lady Fish Paste" are internet references to people like me who saw the sign in Chinatown did a double take.

This is a sign that I've seen frequently. I'm pretty sure it's for ginseng or something, but there's something obviously phallic about the image. And the bird- what's that supposed to symbolize? Perhaps it's a sign for a Chinese herbal Viagra or something.

Then there is the ubiquitous Boba. If you have been living under a rock (or in Binghamton, NY), you might not know that Boba is a wildly popular drink with tapioca balls at the bottom. These you suck up with an over-sized straw until they lodge in your throat. As much as I want to dislike this over-priced gimmick, I do confess to longing for a cold boba on a hot day downtown. It might have replaced horchata as my fave DT thirst quencher.
But which flavor? Red Bean? Jello in Syrup? Perhaps, Mung Bean?? I'll be a gringo and go for the mocha, thanks. Yummy.

At the LA Street Food Fest last weekend, we discovered Banh Mi, which is just a Vietnamese baguette sandwich (sometimes called a "Saigon Sub"). But banh mi can be filled with all sorts of fun treats. However, I don't think I'd like to sign up for the "pork & skin slices sandwich." Although I bet it is really tasty.

And, finally, because I apparently suffer from a fourth grade sense of humor, on our next visit we may actually get some banh mi from the My Dung cafe. Just cuz it's awesome.

Dead Pet Return Policy?

We were in Chinatown today, walking past a "pet store," when I had to stick my head in. We'd seen so many funky animals for sale, as food, that I was curious what qualified as a "pet" in this community.

I came upon the shopkeeper talking SO FREAKING LOUD to this very old woman. She was gesticulating at one of the glass cages, one full of baby chicks for sale for $2.50.

Apparently the older woman had purchased two chicks (not sure if these were meant to be snuggled with, or raised for eating?) and one of them was now dead(ish).

Loud Lady was explaining to Old Lady something about the wings being too cold. Or too hot? Something about how it was Old Lady's fault the bird was dead(ish) because she let it get too cold (hot?) But Old Lady kept saying that Other Bird was fine, and wanted to return Dead(ish) Bird. It was all creepy, though, and I was glad we weren't heading to lunch.

Superior Poultry, Chinatown

I've often driven by this great storefront in Chinatown, with the big chicken top, and I'd heard that Superior Poultry was THE place to get the freshest chicken in LA. So today I decided to stop in and see what the deal was.

Upon entering the place, you are immediately struck by the fact that it is just a cavernous room with a cement floor, conveniently fitted with a floor drain and a huge hose. And lots of crates stacked against one wall. Why no pics, you ask? Because the Chinese lady working the window went crazy and started barking at me when she saw me taking photos. Then she sent out a burly Latina woman to tell me, in English, that photos weren't allowed. OK . . .

So basically these are the freshest birds in town because . . . if you are a chicken and you see this doorway before you, that is a BAD sign. You see, the birds at Superior Poultry in Chinatown are pretty much slaughtered-to-order.
As we walked outside we heard a distinct cacophony of quackery coming from the adjacent loading area. So weird to think of all that livestock (do chickens count as "livestock"?) hanging out in the middle of urban Chinatown.

The menu (written in English and Spanish- the clientele at Superior was amazingly diverse. I guess everyone loves chicken, right?) had interesting offerings: white chickens, ducks, squabs, brown chickens(?), chukars(?), rabbits, bone, old chickens(?), quail, silkies(?), white meat, B chickens(?) and Vietnamese chickens.

Given that I had pissed off Burly Latina Lady AND Barking Chinese Lady, I didn't get a lot of questions in. However, I did find out that a "silky" is a chicken with white feathers and black skin, that looks like this. So cute! So cute, in fact, that I doubt I would be able to pick one for slaughter when they led me in the back to pick out my dinner.

What about a chukar? Also too fluffy and sweet to feel good about dining on. Somehow I'd feel better about dining on "B chicken" or, better yet, "old chicken." Scratch that, how about just "bones"!

1st Annual L.A. Street Food Fest!

While we were living in NY, something exciting was happening in LA. Confined to Internet media and podcasts of LA public radio, I could follow the phenomena but couldn't, well, taste it: a massive proliferation of street food trucks!

This new generation of street food was not the taco trucks of the 1990s. Beloved as they are, food trucks in past couple of years- aided by technology (i.e., using Twitter to allow people to follow/find the trucks) and fueled by massive unemployment, particularly among the creative class- have come into their own. The interesting thing about this movement is that it started in the streets, with the "roach coach" of Home Depot parking lots and construction sites, and has expanded to included decidedly upscale offerings. The best example is probably Ludo Bites, the boneless fried chicken trucks started by Ludo Lefebvre, formerly Executive Chef at L'Orangerie and Bastide, and no slouch in the "fancy cooking for rich people" department.

When I caught wind of the First Annual L.A. Street Food Fest, held this Saturday downtown, I thought I'd willed it into being: a gathering of over 30 food trucks (which have been escaping me since our return to LA because I don't live in a cool place like Silver Lake where they always seem to be parked) on the grounds of Downtown's under-appreciated (Mad Men is filmed there!) Los Angeles Center Studios film production facility (former Unocal oil company headquarters).




With gorgeous weather, a mere $5 entry fee, and all-the-food-trucks-you'd-ever-want-in-one-site, I had a feeling this party was going to be ON. It went from 11-5pm, and I was determined to be there when the doors opened. Which was a good thing, because we arrived before 11 am and did not get in until after NOON! The line to enter was blocks and blocks and blocks long. At around 2 pm, the Fire Marshall arrived and was none too happy. They stopped admitting people and thousands were turned away. For those of us inside, the lines for the individual trucks were super-long, too.

However, we were with a dozen friends who we'd lured to join us, and everyone fanned out and gathered food for the group, so we ended up tasting many more things than we had to wait in line for. That said, we waited in line for those Ludo Bites for . . . ready? TWO HOURS. Then, guess what? We put in our order and had to come back . . . several times . . . for a total wait of . . . THREE HOURS FORTY FIVE MINUTES. Really, though, the day was so nice, I started referring to the "line" as a "linear party." We made friends, it wasn't like being at the DMV . . .

For anyone who wants a play-by-play of the day, and you are NOT required to care, here's how it went down, in detail:

10:40: arrive at parking lot, 4th/Boylston
10:55 arrive at end of massively long line to get into the event (which is set to start at 11 am)
12:00 finally get into gates of event (great to give us time to all meet up!)

12-1 pm: my awesome friends fan out and "gather" for the group, so we taste like 5 things quickly: e.g., Vietnamese lemongrass chicken on baguette, pulled pork sandwich (Luau something?), brisket sandwich w/kim chi, pulled pork on polenta (from Gastrobus- a yellow school bus looking truck, that was maybe the best thing we ate all day).

1pm: bellies full of all that early food, we got in the longest line, thinking "how long can it take, an HOUR?" . . . at THREE pm, 2 full hours later, we were granted the luxury of putting in our order at Ludo Bites. They were only selling fried chicken. Whatever. We were given a numbered ticket (no, Leann, it did not contain lottery numbers) and told to "come back in 45 minutes." WTF? I've been in line for TWO HOURS already? So I came back in 45 minutes. Number wasn't even close to coming up. They said "come back in 30 minutes" . . . you get the idea.

[around 2pm they stopped letting people in, and around 2:45 a guy with a bull horn went to the stalled line outside and told people to just give up and go home, the Fire Marshall was not pleased]

3:30: John orders a Croque Monsieur from an egg place and when he goes back 20 minutes later to pick it up, he is stymied by the Health Inspector who had his thermometer poked in some food. Needless to say, we were refunded our $ and didn't get the CM because they got shut down. But made sure to let John know where they'd be located that evening (hmmmmm . . . salmonella, anyone?)

4:45: We didn't get the food until 4:45. Yes, 3 hours, 45 minutes after the process started. I was prepared to hate the food but guess what? That stuff was AMAZING. Two huge pieces of super juicy chicken in some sort of rosemary crust with a side of sweet red vaguely Asian sauce. YUM. Ludo Bites was awesome, I have to admit.

During the wait for the Ludo Bites we ended up tasting amazing red velvet chocolate chip something or other from Buttermilk (also a winner, thanks Heather- that was a LONG wait!). We also paired with John's friends and waited in line for The Grilled Cheese Truck. They ended up waiting 3 hours for the grilled cheese. We barely got our order in before 5 pm and, unlike the Ludo Bites, I don't know that the Grilled Cheese was so amazing. It was very tasty, but I could probably make something similar at home. And when have you had a "bad" grilled cheese?

Did not taste - but it looked awesome- the Dogzilla, which is "Japanese style hot dog" - but is a hot dog with bacon and then all kinds of crazy Japanese/exotic ingredients. Looked great.

5:30: we finally left the place. We shut it down, baby!

Other Fun Bits: When I placed my order at Ludo Bites, I realized that I had actually SEEN THE VAJAYJAY of the hot blonde taking my order! Yes, it was Ludo's wife, who is a lawyer in LA and competed on The Apprentice and then did Playboy. I made a point to look at the Playboy to see if she did something classy (since she was working at a reputable, large law firm in LA) or if she showed the whole enchilada. Guess what that fame-whore did? Yup. I've seen every crevice of her. I was so tempted to joke about it with her, but didn't dare mess with the woman who held the keys to my long-waited-for fried chicken!

Downtown L.A. Art Walk/Rager

When I left L.A. for NY in 2006, we had this thing Downtown called Gallery Row. And there was this sort of "art walk" thing that happened once a month. I attended in 2005 and was encouraged by the effort, but definitely not inspired to return. There seemed to be like 100 lost souls, most of whom I knew from the Downtown community, walking dazedly among a smattering of "galleries," which seemed to be pretty disorganized and not very professional/permanent.

Flash forward to 2010, and the street scene that met my eyes last Thursday literally left me stumbling around with my mouth agape: there were thousands and thousands and thousands of people (mostly very young and not looking like patrons of the art, but that's another story) enjoying Downtown's Historic Core, which I had left a nighttime ghost town just a few years ago. The Downtown Los Angeles Art Walk has definitely matured. So much so that some of the galleries get inundated and actually close early, to avoid the rowdier patrons who tend to gather in the later part of the evening. Above is the very-sketchy corner of 5th and Main, with people packed 10-deep outside the galleries (in the ground floor of some dicey residential hotels). Amazing!!




Here is the window of my favorite Skid-Row-adjacent-hipster-dive-diner, The Nickel. They are known for their pastries, and rightfully so: the bacon doughnut gets all the press, but even in a crowded field of contenders, the red velvet cake is truly to-die-for. The above shot of their window shows some mannequin heads decorated with meringue and other tasties. So artistic AND yummy. Love that place!

But you know that your LA-street-event has truly arrived when it has its own freaky-sort-of-homeless-guy-in-a-shabby-sequin-jacket-and-resident-cat-on-shoulder. The best part was that this guy had a once-fancy-but-now-similarly-shabby car to match his coat: it looked like a vintage 1940s car (a two-sweater that was all long in the front with big front fenders) that had sequined material literally glued to (and falling off of) it.

If you ever get a chance, check out the art walk. The party can't last forever, so don't put it off too long: Second Thursday of each month, based around 5th/Main but covering many blocks along Broadway, Spring and Main between 2nd and 9th. And these days, there are lots of FOOD TRUCKS to add to the fun. Such a good time!

Awesome Holiday Cards, Volume II

Once again, my parents' holiday cards are the gift that keeps on giving. Although there weren't the humdingers of years past, here are a few more to add to the "awesome" pile:

North Dakota Snowbirds
My dad is from North Dakota, so we get a lot of awesomeness from the Old Country. My favorite category is "North Dakota Folksy" because of the overly-honest stuff people write. This card, though, is a subset of that general vein. I'm calling it North Dakota Snowbird because it is filled with people who have one foot in ND and one foot in a warmer clime, usually Arizona. These are the people who write letters that usually include references to both snowstorms and motor homes, since they spend the winter months away.

I initially noticed this card because of the hilariously bad background for what would otherwise be a lovely picture. Really? You couldn't find a nicer set for your Christmas card than two folding chairs, some 1/4 inch pile industrial carpet, and a white wall??? Bonus points because the accompanying letter includes references to the following: the sun, winter, Arizona, church, Bible, swimming pool, gardening, Palm Springs, the sun (again), pool, Fargo, flooding, medical troubles, blizzard, snow, death, rain, "the lower 48," church, canning and pickling.


Pet Cards

Really needs no commentary. Just awesome. We also received what I'm calling a "companion piece" that was a photo of three Siamese cats.

Exotic Travels
While the first of these is pretty sweet . . .

. . . this second one gave me the willies. Sorry, but it looks like an ad for a "sex tourism" package to Guinea or something. [note: photo is purposely grainy, to protect the identity of what I'm sure is a very nice old doctor friend of my dad's]

Avoiding the Accidental "Snout" Taco at Grand Central Market

As you know, I loooooove me some Downtown Los Angeles. Just before Christmas I took some visiting family for a Jewelry District shopping trip and we stopped in at the historic Grand Central Market at Third/Broadway for a quick morning snack. I stopped at a relatively large/prominent counter perched at the entrance to the place, figuring a little $2 soft taco would be perfect for the three of us girls.

Little did I know I'd have to scan the entire menu, limited as it was, to find a meat filling for my taco that did not evoke bad memories of accidental orders in foreign languages! Check the center column on the menu board in the photo. Mercifully it provided English translations, but here were the meat offerings for us:

Ribs

Skin

Tongue

"lomo" (which it turns out is "tenderloin" and not scary)

Ham (but given the other options listed, I don't think this is what I would consider "ham" but some other funky version of it)

Pork (also suspect- never heard of "espaldillo")

Heart

Liver

Kidney

"buche" (which I find online is a mixture of pig and cow "scraps")

Snout

Ears

Feet

Tripe (stomach)

and . . .

Carne Asada

Ding ding ding! That's the ticket. Reading through that list of horrors and I was treated with the best for last- carne asada it was!

Awesome Holiday Cards, Volume I

Our household gets literally hundreds of holiday cards each year, and my favorite tradition is to take a good look at them. They represent such a wide variety of people from my family's long history, it's cool to see them all. I'm trying not to make too much fun of anyone here (and believe me, I could post and comment on some really awful ones and you would die laughing). They do tend to fall into categories, though. Take a gander . . .

North Dakota Folksy

My dad is from West Fargo, North Dakota, so we get a lot of cards from the Mother Land. His friends from back-in-the-day are notable for the things they write in the cards. They are extraordinarily honest: if their crop failed this year, you are going to hear about it. Not like the cards from LA people, with their sun-tanned photos from cruises with beautiful grandkids. Nope, the ND folks are just that . . . folksy. I liked this one, which has hand-written: "We're having our first snowfall of the season. Dick is heading out to get some gas for the snowblower."

This is not some clever statement or inside joke. It's just exactly what it says, honest and straightforward. Well, thanks for letting us know! Maybe he'll pick up some milk, too?

Old People Who Know How to Live
Then there is the segment of my parents' friends who seem to be spending their golden years traveling like crazy. These couples always send a cool photo from a far-off land. This one is amazing, though!

The writing on the back of the card informs us that this is a 1 1/2 year old Cheetah who visited them on a trip to Tanzania. That is an amazing photo! And the man on the left just looks so relaxed about the whole encounter. Wow. I hope I'm that cool when I'm old.

California Awesome

This one is from my friend from growing up, who lives in LA. Can you tell she had twins?? I didn't think so. She's my idol. The card is so exuberant with the crazy feathers. Over-the-top in a really playful way. So cute. I am imagining what the folks at my old law firm in upstate New York would think if they received a card like this. It is sooooo much in keeping with people's stereotypes about Los Angeles. I love it!!

G is for Grapple?

I eat some weird food. Bacon donuts. Shaved beef tendon salad. Andouillette. But none of that is somehow as weird as what John just brought home for me to taste. The Grapple. Pronounced "GRAPE-l" and capitalized because it is a registered brand name for a new grapey-apple product.

Judging from the website's 1950s-looking graphics and the references to combating childhood obesity, it seems that the Grapple is being marketed as a way to get your fat kids to eat more fruit. This is consistent with what I experienced in tasting my first Grapple: looks like an apple, smells like a Jolly Rancher!! The Grapple looks, feels, and tastes like a normal apple. But the aroma coming off it was precisely the same as grape flavored candy. Pretty sneaky trick, but it won't fool your kid more than once because, guess what? The Grapple just tastes like a boring old Fuji apple. In fact, after all that grape-smelling-good-ness, the apple is pretty much of a letdown.

Wikipedia tells me that the Grapple is not the result of some cool hybrid, but instead a patent-pending liquid infusion process in which grape juice concentrate is pushed into the flesh. Well, forcing grape into an apple does not create the "sweet distinctive flavor of Concord grapes combined with the crispness of a fresh, juicy Washington Extra Fancy apple." Ain't no grape anywhere in that apple, except for the Jolly Rancher scent!

Space Babies Take Los Angeles

I don't have a blog to go along with this photo, really. I just think it is a fab photo. Taken from the edge of Chavez Ravine (location of Dodger Stadium for my out-of-town readers) in the Echo Park area of LA, looking down a super steep street at the Downtown LA skyline, as we were parking in front of my friend's apartment, at the end of a long day exploring downtown.

'Tis the Season . . . for panhandling in the name of charity

It is probably the many years I have spent being constantly panhandled in Downtown LA, but I get pretty annoyed by it. And don't call me heartless, either, because I know more about the politics, laws and motives behind panhandling than just about anyone, after the years I spent working on policies affecting the homeless.
So I get a little taken aback when I have essentially the same feeling around this time of year at seemingly every store I go into. But this sign at Trader Joe's in Torrance takes the cake. Give it a good read. And remember that the lady is so dumb that she is still standing right next to it.

Wearing the same ultra-bright-white-drum-major-get-up, but looking decidedly like a gang member, was THIS guy, at the 110 freeway onramp in Wilmington. The picture doesn't capture how sketchy looking he was. And working the freeway onramp. Nothing says "I have legitimate 501(c)3 status and I'm going to make every penny you donate go to help the less fortunate" than giving menacing looks to drivers stuck in the light at the freeway entrance.

And P.S.: Ralphs, when I'm checking out, please don't ask me if I want to donate a dollar to Ronald McDonald House or whatever. I DON'T!
Yes, Bah Humbug to YOU, too!

Pilgrim Place Festival

Just in case anyone might think that Binghamton was the only place that had really hokey festivals, or that my addiction to them was time/place-specific, behold the most awesomest (yes, I meant to write that) festival of all- the annual Pilgrim Place Festival in Claremont, CA.

Pilgrim Place is a beautiful community: a gracefully laid-out neighborhood of low-rise pre-WWII looking California bungalows- that I literally stumbled across while jogging in California. It was so lovely that I had to inquire further, and I found that it is a retirement community for those who have served in religious and/or charitable careers. It seems to attract a super-educated crowd of really interesting people who have lived all over the world, e.g., PhDs who worked as missionaries. These people are drawn to Claremont probably for the proximity to the Claremont Colleges and the Claremont School of Theology, where they sometimes guest lecture.

I admit to posting the corniest of photos, but the Festival really does beat all. Basically, these "Pilgrims" (and yes, they all dress up like Pilgrims and they even call each other "Pilgrim"!!) work all year at their handicrafts (woodworking, pottery, stained glass, painting) and sell the stuff at rock bottom prices to raise money for those among them who need subsidy. Win/Win and damn good Christmas shopping!

It is just a bonus that there is a corny side to the event, too. This guy was the best. John's photo is much better than the one I've posted, so here is his.

American Apparel: Uniquely LA

For those of you over 35, you might not be aware of the super-popular brand of clothing, American Apparel. In addition to $30 T-shirts, the core of the American Apparel empire, AA now sells all manner of accessories that have become the Hipster Uniform. In fact, my buddy Wikipedia tells me it is the largest clothing manufacturer in the United States. Who knew?

American Apparel gets a lot of press because 1) its marketing materials look like softcore child pornography, 2) its founder is apparently sex-crazed (if you call masturbating during interviews during interviews "crazy"), 3) it takes strong, politically-charged positions, most notably in support of immigration reform, and 4) it has been one of the country's fastest-growing companies in recent years (with funky management practices, like free massages). But mostly, AA is famous because of #1. Let's discuss.

Soft Core Porn
Call me prude and/or old, but AA's ads are really a bit shocking. They usually consist of very skinny, very young-looking people in various stages of undress, spread-eagle in some pastel-colored underwear. AA ads seem to be everywhere; I think I remember reading that they were the biggest advertiser on Facebook at one point [I believe that because I thought they were permanently embedded in the right hand column of my screen, as I frittered away the summer of 2008 on FB.]

The first AA store I ventured into was in LA's Little Tokyo. Upon entering the dressing room, I was greeted by a wall full of creepy, bad-quality polaroids of people who did not look like models, but who did look very sex-starved, wearing bits of AA clothing here and there. I remembered reading somewhere that AA ad photos consisted of photos of AA employees, mostly taken by (or including) Dov Charney, the above-referenced founder of the company. Hello, lawsuit, anyone??

Sparkly Gold Leggings
AA's empire may be built on tshirts, but the clothes they now also feature are nothing short of ridiculous: hotpants, lace body stockings, odd tube tops, weird quasi-leg-warmer socks, gold leggings . . . for toddlers??

The Sun Never Sets on the American Apparel Empire
I was aware of AA because its headquarters occupy one of the largest (the largest?) industrial building complexes in Los Angeles- three massive former Southern Pacific Railway warehouses downtown. But it was not until I left LA that I realized how far the American Apparel empire reached . . . in what has been described as the fastest retail roll-out in history, there are now over 200 AA stores in nearly 20 countries. Apparently what happens in Downtown LA does not stay in Downtown LA, because we were greeted by AA stores in our recent travels to Berlin, Paris, all over NYC. But the craziest one I saw was in boring old Claremont, CA. Claremont? The sleepy little college town of my misspent youth? AA is becoming as ubiquitous as Starbucks or (gasp) Subway?

Why we still love AA
At the end of the day, I am still an AA fan. Theirs are the best overpriced tshirts of all the overpriced tshirts on the market, and come in great colors. Sooooo soft. For now, though, I will skip the lace bodystockings. Or wait until they go on sale at the factory outlet.

Dia de los Muertos at Hollywood Forever Cemetery!!

Yesterday, we did the coolest, most quintessentially-LA thing I’ve ever done. More diverse than a Dodger game. More physically impressive than the Hollywood Bowl. More interesting than the Rose Parade. We went to the Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos) celebration at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

First, some background . . . Hollywood Forever Cemetery (HFC) was established in 1899 as Hollywood Memorial Park Cemetery and from the 1930s to the 1990s was run by a downright dastardly character who (after serving time in prison for securities-related fraud in the 1920s) basically took the money that was supposed to be held in trust for upkeep and squandered on stuff like a yacht for himself and his wife to tool around the 1960s in. By the 1980s, the State of California was on to him (way to be on top of things, California!) and barred the sale of plots. By the 1990s, the owner had died and the place was in receivership.

Enter a couple of Brad Pitt-looking brothers (check one of my photos for a fleeting glimpse of Tyler Cassity in his tux and calaveras-painted face) from a Midwestern mortuary family, who bought the place in 1998 for a mere $375,000. Of course, they had to sink literally millions of dollars into the property, just to remedy what had become a horrible state of affairs: the huge cemetery, located adjacent to Paramount Studios on Melrose and Santa Monica Boulevards, was riddled with broken/vandalized tombstones, earthquake damaged crypts, and dried up/cracked fountains. No amount of barbed wire was keeping the bad guys out of what had become a favorite hangout for hooligans of all sorts in the run-down section of Hollywood.

Long story short: the Brothers Cassity have not only cleaned the place up, but they’ve turned it into a model of what the 21^st century may look like for cemeteries, full of video display terminals playing short movies about the deceased found nearby. Many famous people are buried here, particularly old-time movie folks (most famously, Rudolph Valentino).

But the very best part is that they invite the community into the now-gorgeous grounds by having programming that is surprisingly cool. In the summertime, they do a movie series called Cinespia that is sort of like a drive-in movie except that people bring picnics and sit on the lawn while movies are projected onto the wall of a crypt. Often they will show old movies starring actors who are actually interred right there- so cool!





The greatest day ever, though, is the one night per year they open the place up for the Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead for my non-Angeleno readers) celebration. The Day of the Dead is a Mexican celebration that takes place coincident with All Saints and All Souls day (November 1^st and 2^nd). It is the annual remembrance of the near and dearly departed, when offerings are made to the deceased. Traditionally this may take the shape of a favorite candy, bright orange marigolds, sugar candy skulls, and even spirits like tequila. Such a cool way to remember people, and so incredibly festive. HFC organized a contest for the best-decorated “altars,” so there were probably 100 of these thoughtful and fascinating displays. [Some of John's photos are here.]

The thing that surprised me the most about the Day of the Dead party at HFC was that it sounded like a recipe for disaster: Invite thousands of people in to a cemetery in a rough part of town, charge a mere $10, have alcohol available, provide great live music, encourage people to dress up like skeletons and other creepiness, and do it all basically in the dark. I was more than a little concerned about bringing the babies (dressed in glow-in-the-dark skeleton costumes, thank you), but the crowd (and I do mean crowd) was downright nice.

Tons of families and not a ne’er-do-well to be found. I cannot think of a time when I’ve seen a more diverse group of people: blue-haired old ladies, handsome gay men, hipsters of every stripe, Latino families, skinny people, fat people, boring people (us), cool people (dressed up). The funniest thing was that, even with the spectacle of all this craziness and so much visual overload of incongruous images, people noticed the boys non-stop!

After many hours, we sadly departed the celebration, just as I was starting to mentally process the totally surreal thing I had just experienced, LA again threw me for a loop when we were walking back to the car, past a marquis at Paramount Studios announcing we were passing the studio for . . . the Dr. Phil Show. Only in LA!

Amazing new LAPD Headquarters Dedicated

Yesterday I trekked Downtown to be part of a historic day in Los Angeles’ history: the opening of the LAPD’s new $437 million command center. The generically named Police Administration Building is a stunner: L-shaped and sited in a way that makes it feel warm and embracing.

At the pedestrian level, the grounds are full of goodies:

Facing the adjacent Old Bank District residential neighborhood sits a one-acre grass park with an alley of grand palm trees leading toward the iconic Art Deco Los Angeles Times building; with the decommissioned St. Vibiana’s Cathedral standing sentinel, the Main Street side has a raised area with an artistically-inspired metal sculpture installation made of plates bearing the names of over 200 fallen LAPD officers (sadly, a list with lots of room to grow); the First Street side facing City Hall is a wall of glass, reflecting our amazing City Hall and reminding the police department that it serves, and is overseen by, the people of the City of Los Angeles.

The Spring Street side is home to eight large metal sculptures that immediately attracted controversy because they sort of look like . . . cow dung? Or maybe headless/handless/footless people curled up in a ball? After being tazed? I think they are perfectly appropriate, and that art is supposed to get people talking (mission accomplished, since there’s been a lot of TV and radio coverage of the sculptures). They also seemed like they might serve the dual-purpose of stopping a car bomb, so, bonus points for that! But outgoing Chief Bratton really, really hates them and hasn’t been shy about calling them “cow splat” and stating that the plan is to cover them up with flowers and shrubbery. We’ll get used to them.

A highlight of the morning was the unfurling of a massive American flag, after which time, members of the SWAT team rappelled down the face of the building. Great theatrics but problematic in that the exercise seemed to leave black boot marks (not visible in the photo) behind on the dramatic, pristine wall face. Wondering how the custodial staff is going to tackle those stains!



















I was confused to see these LAPD detectives standing at a table full of goodies that caught my retail eye. It looked just like NYC, where all the good Midwestern tourists go to SoHo to buy knock-off purses. Was this some sort of weird LAPD Bake Sale fundraiser or something? I was really confused. DUH! It's a table full of seized counterfeit goods!

That is Chief Bratton in the CompStat room. CompStat stands for Computer Statistics and was first used in 1994 by the NYPD. It uses GIS maps to plot out crimes and make a visual representation of trouble areas. Once those areas are identified at monthly meetings of top departmental staff, resources are deployed in a strategic and targeted manner to try and suppress crime by attacking the hot spots. CompStat is a management philosophy that is based on accountability (of the Commanders in each precinct, or geographic area) and is widely credited with helping bring NYC back from the brink of Chaos in the Streets in the 1990s.