I have fond memories of the boxy Volvo’s I used to own.  And probably less fond ones of seeing the Playboy sticker outlines on truck mudflaps.  Somehow I wouldn’t have thought to combine the two.

I guess it’s the neighborhood.  I am not sure whether the driver ahead of me on La Cienega was heading to the vegan Real Food Daily restaurant, or perhaps to the Live Nude Girls Girls Girls strip club, since they are right across the street from each other.

Today would have been John Lennon’s 69th birthday. His time spent in Los Angeles in the early 1970s is well-documented:

In June 1973 in New York, his wife, Yoko Ono, pushed for a separation and said he should take May Pang, their personal assistant, as his boy-toy while they reassessed their marriage.

Lennon and Pang in LA, 1974

In quick order, Lennon moved to LA with Pang and flung himself into what has become known as his “Lost Weekend,” an eighteen-month period during which he caroused, recorded some middling material, caroused, reconnected with Paul and Ringo, caroused– you get the picture.

From a rented home in the Hollywood Hills, Lennon lived out loud and large in public places in Los Angeles, making a drunken, coke-fueled spectacle of himself with stars and players of the day. When confronted by the press with criticism, he said, “So it was a mistake, but Hell, I’m human.”

Shortly thereafter, Lennon cleaned up his act.  He and Yoko reunited (in NYC, backstage after Lennon’s cameo during an Elton John concert) into renewed matrimonial bliss, had a son together, Sean, and lived a happy family life in relative seclusion at the Dakota until that fateful, sad night in December 1980 when Lennon’s fame tragically caught up with him.

From where we are with sexual politics in the early 21st century, maybe some wisdom can be gleaned from the way the Lennons openly navigated their relationship in the 1970s and the way it was received. Little public pillorying of John, no tearful media statements from Yoko, no desperate extortion attempts from lurking opportunists due to needlessly keeping secrets about the bumps in a relationship’s road, no knee-jerk accusations about employer/employee dalliances from self-appointed know-it-all scolds.

Just honesty about how a particular marriage of interest was going; forthrightness about monogamy and the lack thereof occasionally as a reality check; and not a speck of shame, contrived or otherwise, from anyone involved.

Imagine.

Heading west this morning, I stopped pedaling between Hudson Avenue and June Street on 4th Street through Hancock Park because some immortalized shoeprints caught my eye, probably from some young prankster who I could picture mischieviously scampering over the patch of wet concrete repairwork that had been freshly poured on the roadway however many years ago.

Then I turned and found this — signed, no less? — and promptly forget about the footsteps frozen in time:

It’s but a block and a half to the east of this one I chanced upon last November. Staring at it I wondered several things: how old it was, where the next one might reveal itself, and if the Bureau of Street Services would act upon or ignore a request (that I’ve since made) to have the repugnant symbols of hatred excised. I was remiss in tolerating that first one. Two will just not do.

UPDATED (10.13): Following my second request this morning to L.A. Bureau of Street Services via its website I received an email reply stating that the job doesn’t fall under their jurisdiction and that they forwarded it to the city’s Beautification Committee. Rather than wait to hear from that entity I filed a graffiti removal request via its website and am awaiting their response.

I’m still not convinced there even IS a future for journalism, at least not as we’ve known it (and heck I have a degree in it). Further, I won’t exactly miss what it’s become. But that’s not the point -

Should you wish to witness a spirited and entertaining discourse on this very subject, however, why not head out to The Warehouse in Marina Del Rey on Saturday, and catch The Lowdown?

Here’s what your host Jeff Norman has to say about it:

The Lowdown is a bold cultural revival fueled by unique collaborations between world-class artists, authors, activists and other public-spirited leaders. Presenters and performers connect the dots between media, government, national security, sustainability, psychology and the arts. By confronting disinformation, promoting civic engagement and having fun in the process, we help people cope with life in America.

The Warehouse Restaurant
4499 Admiralty Way
Marina del Rey, CA 90292
Hosted by JEFF NORMAN and featuring performances and a discussion with

music by I SEE HAWKS IN L.A. (Full set at 5 PM)
Author PETER RICHARDSON
Journalist ROBERT SCHEER
LA Weekly founder JAY LEVIN
Comedian ED CRASNICK
Musician-satirist GARY GORDON
Drinks and appetizers available – no minimum required.
Happy hour discounts from 5 to 6!
FREE admission
Seating is first come, first served.
The evening will conclude with a book sale and signing by Peter Richardson, author of A Bomb in Every Issue: How the Short, Unruly Life of Ramparts Magazine Changed America, hosted by Book Soup.

(Ow, my linking hand!)

As a follow up to my post about American Apparel having little choice but to comply with the Obama administration’s order forcing employers to fire undocumented workers, I want to call attention to Tim Rutten’s opinion column in today’s LA Times.

Rutten speaks to the questionable humanity of the new procedure to deal with illegal immigration that will do nothing to provide the underlying necessity, an overhaul of immigration policy. In fact, as the new procedure eliminates the raids and deportations of the past, it will add to an ongoing one: unscrupulous companies that will hire, underpay, overwork and mistreat displaced workers to save a buck.

The administration seems to be choosing the lesser of two evils here, allowing undocumented workers to remain in the US, assumedly so they can act on getting  legal, rather than deportation. In the interim, they will have to deal with finding a  way to survive and support their families.

Rutten quotes one of the fired American Apparel’s workers here in Los Angeles who says he will “go back to one of those sweatshops where I’m going to have to get paid under the table.”

There will still be those of the Neanderthal “too bad–should have stayed in Mexico” mindset who will remain unmoved, but if they take the time to read Rutten’s column, at least they can’t say they never were confronted by the concept of compassion and its glaring necessity as a component of reform.

Eater, a blogging network focused on the food/restaurant scene with a web outpost here in LA (EaterLA), relaunched today with a spiffy new site design and a not-so-spiffy-downright-jerky offer: a paltry $25 if you shut down your food blog.  The rationale?  Because your food blog is part of a “massive amount of noise” – of which Eater, in its infinite food wisdom, plays no drums.  If you take the offer, you agree to “cease all publication of foodie rambling, blabbering, and drooling over ridiculously mundane foodstuffs.”  In other words: leave it to the self-proclaimed professionals.

I’m here to implore all LA food bloggers: don’t do it!  Caroline on Crack, I read your blog daily.  Potatomato, I love your kawaii reviews and pictures.  Eat, Drink & Be Merry, you have one of the best non-annoying how-we-met stories I’ve ever heard, with a bonus because it involves food.

Where Eater hears noise, I hear music.  Useful, creative, adventurous music.  Eater won’t dare go to Compton, but SinoSoul will.  Eater forgets that the food essence of LA is the literal melting pot of flavors from all cultures – how else to explain their glaring omission of ethnic eateries from its “The 38 Essential Los Angeles Restaurants” list? – but Journey of an Epicurean Cutie remembers.

There are countless other blogs and posts that I’ve relied upon to be my food canaries: when I needed to check out a restaurant before committing.  When I knew I’d be in an unfamiliar part of town and would need a lunch break.  When I needed to know if that fancy dish was worth over $20.

We don’t need one voice to dictate taste, culinary or not.  Twenty-five bucks to shut down is a bribe, an insulting one at that, from a scared network that overvalues its opinion and undervalues community.  We don’t need one giant blogger network to dictate what is tasteworthy and what is not.  We need you.

Tell ‘em to take the $25 and put it towards hiring a decent copy editor.  And maybe a fact-checker too.

Respectfully,

qq.

Photo courtesy Atwater Village Newbie via the Metblogs’ Flickr pool.

2011 Fiesta in Monrovia Canyon

I’m a car guy. I like to go for fun drives. Every once in a while things converge and I get to go out and have some fun.   Wednesday was such a day; I had the use of a 2011 Ford Fiesta prototype for a few hours and took it for a run up and down Monrovia Canyon.

The car: This is a prototype Ford Fiesta, a European spec production model that will vary a little from what we get in our final production form when it goes on sale next year as a 2011 model. What we will see different is changes to the bumpers to meet our more stringent standards, and a slightly more powerful, refined 4cyl compared to what the European versions get. The car’s driving characteristics won’t be changed in the process, that’s a good thing.

Driving impression: Well, I am not at a loss for words. Much cleaner handling than the Toyota Yaris and not as tipsy feeling as the tall Honda Fit. (I have been in both recently). Overall it had very crisp reactions to steering input in the tight corners in Monrovia Canyon. The suspension was controlled soaking up ruts and potholes without bottoming out or “floating” about as what was the norm not that long ago with US produced small cars. Believe the best pop culture phrase to be used to describe the overall driving impression is: “Win”. (more…)

Sadness. I’ve just learned from Ed Fuentes at Blogdowntown that the Laemmle’s Grande 4-Plex theater on Figueroa beneath the Marriott Hotel (where Christopher Walken danced in a certain Fatboy Slim video) is slated to shut down October 25, coincidentally just two days before the opening of the Regal Cinemas LA Live Stadium 14.

Fuentes quotes Laemmle Director of Operations Kevin Gallagher: “It’s always been difficult to bring people downtown and even though the image of the city changing, we felt it was best to close the doors.”

The comments to the post echo my dissapointment. But I take some consolation that at least they didn’t close because of me. Laemmles had no difficulty bringing me and my wife Susan downtown from Silver Lake. Long unenamored with the Arclight $tyle of movie-going (and the gridlock getting there), Laemmle’s Grande was a cherished alternative. A bit seedy and frayed and firmly lacking in the latest cinema technology, sure. But none of that mattered.

It has been our theater of choice for going on three years. We could get there in 10 minutes, conveniently park across the street for $2 and relish the $6 matinee ticket prices, which made bad movies suck a little less… like “Public Enemies,” the last movie we saw there.

With the exception of one or two trips to the Vista every movie we’ve been coaxed into seeing since we first found the place in 2006 has been viewed there in the Marriot’s basement — with good popcorn, no screaming kids, no crowds, and by and large among people who know good movie theater etiquette. It was like a best-kept secret — too best kept, I guess (but not for lack of me crowing about it here back in November 2006).

I’m going to miss this place tremendously. In fact, since you won’t catch me navigating the chaos of Regal’s new LA Live pleximania, I’d hazard to say with its closing we’ll be going out for movies less and waiting to stay in and see them on Blu-Ray more.

A murder was simply reported at “domestic violence” with the body left in the street a couple of days ago in the local paper.  That was the official information given out by the city of Monrovia regarding the incident.

Turns out it was much more to the story than what was initially given to the SGV Tribune, and fortunately they were tenacious enough to follow the story.  Turns out the victim was porn actress “Felecia Tang”.   Her boyfriend according to the Crime Scene blog is being held on 2M bail for the torture and dismemberment of the young actress also known as Felecia Lee.

Now Fox news, save your jeers and sneers, is reporting that the alleged murder appeared on “America’s sexiest Bachelor” and held degrees in biblical study and worked as a “Christian mime”.  Full Fox story here.

Sad she died the way she did, but at least the alleged murder is in custody.

That’s the message I got loud and clear while at the car wash this morning.  I eaves dropped in on a conversation between another patron and the owner of the Huntington 76 Car Wash in Duarte this morning.

Aside from some tired rhetoric I learned that like other “luxury items” car washes are down.  Significantly down and those businesses are hurting.  Smaller operations like this attached to a gas station are down 30% from a year ago, with the larger ones are down 50-60%.  To still make a profit they have had to cut staff along similar percentages.   That folks is a lot of minimum wage jobs being lost.

Seriously, with the water shortage a lot of folks aren’t washing their cars as much as before, certainly not doing it themselves.  Did you know that the majority of car washes for years have recycled their water to help cut the cost of that expense?  Ask your favorite car wash if they recycle their water or not, and if they do treat yourself to a guilt free clean car and help save a job or two in the process.

Oh yeah, final thought do remember to tip the guy drying off your car at the end…he earned it and it helps supplement what he takes home.

Pic by me with the craptastic cell phone and does get bigger with a click.