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I’ve been going out picture-taking a lot with a Flickr contact who is really fun. We love going to the same types of places. She’s really good at taking pictures of people, though, which I am not! She and I went to a spot where some train cars are parked last weekend and Elijah came along. She got him to pose for her! Amazing.

I can’t put the pictures right in my post because she doesn’t allow that on her Flickr settings, so I’ll just link to them.

Here’s Elijah on a train car.

Me and Elijah together.

I was nervous being up there.

And Elijah on the tracks.

It was a cool cloudy day, which we don’t get too many of around here. Awesome to take pictures in. I still need to get my film developed from that day.

My boss was on vacation near Palm Desert this week with his family and he invited Daniel and I out for an overnight stay. He paid for everything. It was fun.

I work from home and my boss lives in Texas so Daniel’s never met him. I know him because we used to work together for an ad agency in LA, although my boss worked at the San Fran office. He started his own web company, and when I left my job, he hired me as a freelancer.

We stayed in Indian Wells, which is a town right next to Palm Desert (which is right next to Palm Springs). There are a bunch of fancy resorts/spas/hotels there. It tripped me out. I never knew that stuff was out there. It’s surrounded by these gorgeous mountains.

We were so busy before heading out there that we didn’t plan what to do once we got there. So when we woke up in the morning we got online and tried to figure out where we should go. We considered going to the Salton Sea, but it was over an hour away and we’ve been there a few times already. We were going to go to Joshua Tree National Park, even though it was also over an hour away, but then I remembered we’d have to pay to get in. And since Daniel’s unemployed we’re trying not to spend any money at all.

I checked to see if there are any ghost towns near Palm Springs and found out there’s an abandoned camp just outside of Indio. It was used to house workers who were building the Colorado River aqueduct. We headed over to check it out. The road leading out to the camp isn’t maintained and there were places where it was completely gone, but we managed to maneuver through those spots until we hit one where there was no way our car would be able to make it. We got out to walk a bit further, hoping to see the camp just around the bend. I left the car right in the middle of the roadway, thinking there was no way anyone else would come along. Then Daniel yelled at me to come back and I looked to see about six 4×4s heading past. They all managed to get around the car but we left anyway.

On the way there we passed this old dried up vineyard:

This was on the road to Berdoo Camp:

After that we went to a nature preserve in Coachella to hike around a bit. At the start there’s this huge clump of palm trees that you wander through, and it’s pretty cool, but once you get out on the trail there’s nothing but dirt and bushes. We got bored and turned back after a bit. On the trail:

After that we went to a Barnes and Noble where they have free wifi and Daniel got some work done on his laptop. We still had some time to kill before heading back to the resort to have dinner with my boss and another co-worker who came out. (It’s funny to meet someone you’ve only ever talked to on the phone for years.) So I decided to go out towards Joshua Tree, the town, just to get some pictures of joshua trees.

On the way I spotted an abandoned house so we pulled off there.

Inside was some spray paint on one of the boarded up windows that said something like, “Leave the cats alone we’re coming back.” I took a picture but it’s not developed yet.

We didn’t have to drive all the way to Joshua Tree to find joshua trees, though, so we stopped in Yucca Valley where there was a bit of acreage for sale. It was covered in them.

Then we headed back to the resort for dinner. It was a fun New Year’s.

And no, I don’t mean Compton or Inglewood.

I mean Rodeo Drive.

So last weekend I was itching to get out and take pictures (story of my life) and I decided to head to downtown LA. The Toy District, to be specific, which I’ve posted pictures of before. It’s a bizarre place—full of cheapo toy stores that people take their kids to, but right on the edge of Skid Row, so it’s covered in trash. I don’t think I posted any pictures that give an accurate sense of the garbage everywhere before, so here are some from last weekend.

The store on the corner (behind all the trash) is a videogame/dvd store. I took Elijah there the first time we went down to the Toy District.

This is two frames from a half-frame camera. On the left is street corner, don’t you love how all the trash is right next to an empty garbage can? Note the mother and child. On the right is a sunglasses store.

People waiting for the crosswalk light to change.

This is a craft store. Yes, a craft store.

This was the corner near where I parked my car. This building is a library. The heap on the left is a sleeping homeless person and his shopping cart. The building in the background on the right is a church. Probably one of my fave pictures I’ve taken all year.

Some graffiti on a street corner.

More trash on the street. This area was packed with people doing Christmas shopping.

I shot this from the hip and meant to get the street, but accidentally got this fellow instead. I like how it came out.

More graffiti. This face iss a bright green.

Everyday I’m hustling. The Toy District is on Los Angeles St, probably my new fave part of downtown.

So after wandering around there for about an hour I drove over to Beverly Hills. Quite a contrast. But on the way I snapped this picture of the Disney Concert Hall from the car at a street light.

Rodeo Drive is only a couple blocks long and full of designer clothing stores. Some of the most expensive shops in the world. One you can only shop at by appointment, it’s a men’s clothing store, and suits cost about $15,000.

One store had these plexiglass cutouts on the floor with mannequins in them. The girl in this photo was shopping with her father, and they both were wearing the most expensive clothes I’ve ever seen in my life. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out his suit cost $15,000. Her clothes were also super-fine. I’m thinking her outfit probably cost more than I usually have in the bank.

Some of the mannequins there are trippy. But what trips me out most about this store is the fake books everywhere.

I was impressed with how the mannequins’ feet were so realistic at this store, with tendons and veins and stuff. Then I noticed my reflection and had to take this shot.

Just crazy, people. Crazy.

The whole street was decorated for Christmas, and who can resist a giant-ornament-reflection shot?

The lovely naked bust is a nice touch. Gives it that classy flare.

I guess Charlie Chaplin, Ray Bradbury, Jack Nicholson, and Billy Wilder have all lived here. This is near the corner of Rodeo Drive and Santa Monica Blvd.

It was a weird day. But awesome.

Elijah: All my teachers this year know I’m smart.

Me: What does that mean?

Elijah: Well all my teachers have always said how smart I am.

Me: And what do they say this year?

Elijah: One of my teachers is mad at me because I’m only getting a B, but I’m the smartest kid in the class.

Me: Did you tell her that grades don’t reflect intelligence?

Elijah: Sort of…In my music theory class we had to write a chord progression. So I wrote one and turned it in, but I told my teacher it was stupid, and I didn’t really like it. He played it and said he liked it, that it sounded sad. So then I changed it a little bit, and he played it again and said it sounded really evil. I was like, “Yeah!”

(Then came a bunch of technical mumbo jumbo about music I can’t remember or understand.)

Elijah: My English teacher knows how to torture me now. She said she needed some volunteers so I said I’d do it and she said I didn’t know what she wanted me to do yet. I said I didn’t care, I’d do it. She said well maybe it’s sitting outside getting hit with stones. I said I’d be ok with that. Then she said maybe it was being forced to listen to Britney Spears all day. (Shrugs) I’d be ok with that. Then she said but what if it was having to admit that there is no greater band than Led Zeppelin, and I said OK I won’t do that.

On Saturday I wanted to go somewhere to take pictures. Daniel needed the car to take care of some stuff, which left me with our big burly truck. I didn’t want to drive too far, I need to conserve money/gas. So I figured I’d head over to Long Beach. I was aiming for the neighborhood my doctor’s office is in. It’s a colorful area that I’ve always wanted to wander around with a camera but haven’t yet.

So I drove to downtown Long Beach and headed north (east?) on Long Beach Blvd. I stopped a few times whenever I saw an area that looked interesting for taking pictures. My doctor’s office is a couple blocks off of Long Beach Blvd, and I thought I’d recognize the cross street when I got to it.

But I totally missed it.

I kept driving, and driving, and driving…and suddenly I was at the 710 freeway. I thought, my doctor’s office isn’t near the 710, is it? But I kept going. Soon a sign loomed up next to the road: Thank you for visiting Long Beach.

I thought, what’s past Long Beach on this side? Long Beach is a huge town. I mean, it covers a huge amount of land. 50 square miles. So I kept going.

Soon another sign loomed up: Welcome to the City of Compton.

I thought, this is Compton? Looks like any other part of southern Cali. I decided to drive around for a bit. I kept driving down Long Beach Blvd, then turned left on Compton Blvd. Daniel’s truck only has a radio in it, and he loves this radio station that only plays old school hip hop. So there I am, driving through Compton, listening to an old hip hop song about Compton. I had to change the channel. It was just a little too much irony for me. Plus I worried anyone who pulled up next to me would be insulted by a blond Mormon housewife from Orange County driving through Compton listening to a song about being from the hood.

I kept an eye out for a spot I could park and walk around a bit and take some pictures, but I was a bit nervous to. So I only hopped out of the truck to walk the length of about four store fronts in a spot with no other pedestrians around—except for one slightly older guy that I made eye contact with.

When I got home, I looked up Compton, trying to figure out just how dangerous it really is. It didn’t seem as scary as Watts did. I found some discussions online about it. Most people were saying you shouldn’t go there unless you have a reason to be there, or if you get lost and end up there on accident. (Which I thought was kind of funny—how does anyone who lives there know why you’re there? At least I qualified as someone who got there by accident.) A few people said to only wear neutral colors—no red or blue. I wore lime green, so I guess that was good.

Someone else said not to make eye contact with anyone. Whoops.

Another person said the people who live there know who else lives there, and they’ll know if you’re a local or not. And some of them don’t take kindly to visitors. This made me think of when I turned down a residential street, and a man walked out of his house and gave me a sort of mean, suspicious look as I drove by. I did sort of stand out in my big, burly, beat up and LOUD truck. That thing needs a new muffler.

A few years back it was ranked as the 4th most dangerous city in America. There are 93,000 people who live there, and a few years back, there were 67 murders there. That’s a very high rate per capita. Here’s what one person said about it:

NYC has a population of about 8 million, 80 times the population of Compton. To equal Compton’s murder rate (67 per 100,000) NYC would have to have 5,360 murders. NYC actually had about 570 murders.

But the crime rates aren’t as bad in Compton now as they were a couple years ago.

I used to live in the worst gang neighborhood in WA state, which I’m sure was nothing compared to a gang neighborhood in Los Angeles. But I know from my experience there that most of the people in those kinds areas are great people. And they have a real sense of community that you just don’t find in more affluent areas.

It was sort of weird to drive back home. I live in such a rich area. Well, the part of HB I live in is pretty crappy, actually, but because we’re near the beach it’s expensive. Compton didn’t seem any different from a lot of areas in southern Cali, though—Santa Ana, Long Beach, etc. If I hadn’t seen the signs that said Compton I wouldn’t have known I was there.

When I was a teenager, I used to take the bus from the suburbs into downtown Seattle with my brother and our friends. We’d go down there to visit the record stores, but we’d also wander around looking into art gallery windows and stuff. One time a friend of mine, Colin, told me a trick to remember the order of the streets downtown.

In downtown Seattle, the north/south streets are numbered, 1st, 2nd, etc. The streets running east/west are named. The bus I rode went north on 4th St, so it was handy to be able to remember the order of the east/west streets, to know when your stop was coming up.

Here’s the trick:

Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest

Heading north through downtown, there are two streets that start with J, two that start with C, two that start with M, etc.

So the order of the streets are:

Jesus - Jefferson and James
Christ - Cherry and Columbia
Made - Marion and Madison
Seattle - Spring and Seneca
Under - University and Union
Protest - Pike and Pine

See how easy? I want to come up with something similar to be able to remember the street order of the big main streets in the area of Orange County I travel through a lot, but not enough to have the street order memorized. Here are the streets:

Brookhurst
Euclid
Harbor
Fairview
Bristol

So I need an easy-to-remember combination of words that start with B E H F B.

Help me out, here.

Because Everyone Hates Free Baseball?

On Saturday, Daniel took Nathaniel dirt biking in the morning. Nathaniel wanted me to take him to Amoeba Records in Hollywood when he got back. I wanted to go to a few spots in downtown L.A. to take some pictures. But there wouldn’t be enough time before sunset if I waited for Nathaniel to get back from dirtbiking to go. So I went into L.A. twice.

In the morning, Elijah and I went to downtown L.A. There’s a building with graffiti that I wanted to get a picture of, and I knew what area it was in, but not the exact spot. I drove down one street thinking I’d see it, but ended up going past the area I knew it to be in, so I turned around and drove back. I ended up driving right through the edge of Skid Row and into the Toy District.

Skid Row in Los Angeles is not like Skid Row in a smaller city like Seattle. When I lived in Seattle, I worked in Pioneer Square, which is the oldest part of the city, and the place where all the homeless shelters are. The old buildings have lots of nooks and crannies and there are a lot of park benches around. I’d get to work pretty early. It wasn’t unusual for me to be stepping around homeless people sleeping on the sidewalks, in the doorways of buildings, at 7am. When I’d catch the bus on the way home, at 5pm, the bus stop was across the street from a shelter, so all the homeless would be lining up for the soup kitchen just across the street. It didn’t phase me—it was just where I worked. Lots of mentally ill homeless people around. Some I got to recognize after awhile. One old guy would talk out loud constantly and make really funny noises—like raspberries, just in the middle of his sentences. I called him The Muffin Man, because he always had a muffin he’d share with the birds. Another guy I’d pass on a certain street corner everyday, when I had my car and would park down along the waterfront. He always had a cup he’d hold out for change but would never ever make eye contact. It was like I didn’t exist to anything but his hand holding the cup out—it’d move towards me as I walked by. I’d try to carry some change in a pocket to give to him if I thought about it beforehand.

Anyway, Skid Row in L.A. is way different. There’s a large population of homeless people there–something like 8,000. I’d seen pictures and seen it depicted in movies, and I’ve been downtown many times, but I had never been into the area before. I wasn’t sure exactly where it was. I only drove through one block, really. But it was immediately recognizable as Skid Row. Garbage and stuff was piled on the sidewalks, and people were everywhere. What’s weird is the Toy District is right there.

The Toy District is an area of toy shops. Pinata stores, used videogame stores, doll stores. They’ll all in these really old run down buildings. Trash on the sidewalk. It’s all kind of surreal.

We parked in the Toy District and walked around a bit, I took pictures. Elijah stopped at some videogame stores to check out the games. We ended up buying some used DVDs–an indie movie called Primer, Animatrix (animated shorts based on the Matrix movies), and I forget what the other one was.

One of the things I love about downtown L.A. is all the old buildings. There are a lot of cool hotels and tons of old theaters. This hotel wasn’t that cool, but it’s right on Los Angeles St:

The main reason I wanted to stop in this part of downtown is I wanted some pictures of a building I’d seen last time I was there. We managed to stumble on it completely by chance. Here it is:

Another view of it:

And another view of it (it’s the building on the right):

The building is abandoned, the windows broken out. I wish I could have gotten up onto the fire escape to take some pictures.

Then we drove over to an area on the edge of Chinatown, where there’s a building covered in awesome graffiti-like murals:

I have more pics I haven’t uploaded yet. After that, I made one more stop, still in Chinatown, but in an industrial area. Basically a junk yard.

There was some junk I wanted to get a picture of to the right of this spot, behind that barred fence, but a semi-nasty looking dog started barking at me. So I turned and headed the other direction, not realizing the dog was not confined by the fence. I took this picture:

And when I turned around, I saw the dog wandering free. It didn’t help matters that I could hear a crazy person shouting and shouting and shouting, but I couldn’t see where he was. All I heard was yelling. It was all rather surreal. So I got in the car and left.

We went back home, picked up Nathaniel, and headed back into Los Angeles. Hollywood this time, to go to Amoeba Music, the biggest indie record store around.

I made Nathaniel and Elijah stand on the other side of the bars (this is the parking garage we parked in) so I could take this shot.

I got (on vinyl):

The Commodores - Midnight Magic ($1)
Modern English - Richochet Days ($3)
Modern English - After the Snow ($4)
Coffin Break - Crawl ($1)
Hammerbox - ST ($1)
Spandau Ballet - Parade ($1)

We also went to this store, and got everyone two bottles of soda (except me, I don’t drink soda). I might have to do a continuation of this post once I’ve uploaded some more pictures.

I love L.A.

A weekend or two ago, I got Nathaniel and Dillon to go with me to Long Beach. We put the bicycles on a bike rack on our Toyota and drove over there, parked in a garage in downtown Long Beach, and rode around. We basically just rode down Long Beach Blvd for a ways. I have more film that needs to be developed from that day, so I may post more pictures later, but for now here’s a few.

One of the cameras I took is a little old camera that takes 127 film. 127 film is larger than 35mm but smaller than 120. I believe there’s only one company still making 127 film and you have to order it online, so I’ve never used any. But I managed to load some 35mm film into one of my 127 cameras and use it, which is cool because all of the 35mm film gets exposed, including the parts with the sprocket holes. Unfortunately, I didn’t tape up the frame number window well enough and had some major light leakage.

That’s Nathaniel and Dillon on their bikes. Here they are again:

Some mannequins outside a store:

An old empty brick building that I think is going to be rennovated (taken with a different camera):

Another cool old building:

After riding around Long Beach, I asked the boys if they wanted to go to Watts Towers. They were up for it, after I said it was a public park and if it seemed sketchy we’d just leave.

The Watts Towers are some sculptures that a man built during his spare time, starting in 1921. It took him 30 years or so to finish them. He built them out of scraps of stuff he found laying around.

Two of them are over 99 feet tall. There’s a community center there, but we didn’t check it out because I was nervous about leaving the bikes on the bike rack on the car, even though they were locked together.

There was a security guard at the park too. He told us they’d be giving a tour of the scuptures soon but we didn’t take it.

There’s plaques in the ground that layout a timeline of history of the area, going back to ancient native peoples. It covers the Watts Riots and we only read to that point. Here’s Dillon and Nathaniel checking out the timeline:

It’s a neat place.

Watts was a really sketchy area though. When we left the freeway the GPS told us to make these turns that took us right into what seemed like project apartment housing. It kept telling me to turn left and I kept thinking “I don’t want to turn down there! There either!” And then it’d get weird and actually have arrows pointing both ways. Dillon said, “It’s telling us to GET OUT! GET OUT!” But I ended up turning left and the towers were right there as we turned the corner.

–

In other news, our Toyota might have a blown engine. Yes, our 4 year old car that we still owe thousands of dollars on, toast. Daniel’s going to try taking it apart and see if he can fix it, but I worried we’re pretty much screwed. It completely ran out of oil, and we had no indication until it was knocking. There’s been no oil leaks at all—the oil just all dried up and turned into sludge inside the engine. We would have caught it earlier, I think, but I let Dillon drive Nathaniel to a show (in Riverside) and the boys didn’t realize the noise the engine was making meant it was in serious trouble. I’m not sure I would have, either. It hasn’t lost power. Or it didn’t until Daniel started working on it yesterday—now it won’t run at all. Daniel’s hoping maybe something’s just came loose with the valves and he can fix it. Cross your fingers.

I went to the coolest store today. I was driving somewhere and stopped to take a picture of a sign on a restaurant—haven’t finished the roll or I’d post the picture. It was of a restaurant called Dung Food To Go. Yes you read that right.

In the same parking lot was the best store IN THE WORLD. I’d heard about it when I first moved here and always meant to go check it out, but it wasn’t until Dung Food To Go lured me into the parking lot that I actually decided to go take a peek in it. The store? Green Farm Market.

I walked in and was immediately giddy with happiness. It’s a grocery store, but not just any grocery store. I know the name makes it sound like an organic health food store, but it’s not that, either. It’s an Asian market!

As soon as you step inside you’re bombarded with the reek of fish. Not the best smell. But all the walls and signs are lovely bright colors. And the packaging on all the food is all so bright and cute. And the produce…the produce! I immediately knew I’d have to bring Daniel to it as a surprise. He loves fresh veggies.

So when he got off work I drove him there, telling him it was a surprise. Later, as we were leaving, he said he was going to make fun of me for surprising him with a grocery store, but he was so stoked on it that he couldn’t.

The place was packed, and we were literally the only white people there. We got mostly veggies, but we needed garbage bags, and we couldn’t find them anywhere. I saw a Latino guy stocking shelves, so I asked him where they were. Blank stare. “Garbage bags? Garbage?” Blank stare.

So I went to the check out and asked the clerk, a young Asian woman, where the garbage bags were. Blank stare. “Garbage bags? Garbage?” Blank stare. The grocery bagger was another Latino man, he was laughing. He motioned to the grocery bags in front of him and said to her, “garbage?” Blank stare. He showed Daniel where they were.

Here’s what we got (from memory, probably leaving some stuff out):

* A large bag of bean sprouts
* Broccoli
* Head of cabbage
* 1.5 lbs of ground pork
* Dumpling wrappers (for making gyoza)
* A box of trash bags
* A 12-can box of Pepsi
* Cilantro
* 4 tomatoes
* An onion
* Scallions

Guess how much it cost?

$17.45!

Here’s a slide show of pictures I’ve taken on Broadway in downtown L.A.

I love it down there. It’s weird because on a Saturday, Broadway is packed, but all of the surrounding streets are pretty empty. There’s a ton of old theaters on Broadway, many have been converted into stores or churches. I guess you can take a tour of all the theaters (but not all of them will let you inside). One was built by Charlie Chaplin. I want to get back down there and take more pictures now that I know more about the buildings.

It’s kind of weird how you never hear about downtown L.A. I guess because Hollywood gets all the attention. It’s really run down, the historical parts, anyway. There was starting to be a resurgence of people moving there and remodeling old buildings into apartments and stuff, but I think with the economy and housing problems that’s probably slowed down. I wouldn’t mind living down there if we didn’t have the kids to worry about.

It’s a neat city.