L.A. Diary: Seeing Stars

Part 1: We Begin
Part 2: On the Road
Part 3: We Arrive
Part 4: The Strange Encounter
Part 5: The Best Deal (or Two) in L.A.Part 6: Land of Dreams
Part 7: Meeting New Old Friends
Part 8: Lettuce Love

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I'm not talking about the kinds of stars that you naturally think of when L.A. and Hollywood come to mind.

I'm talking about driving to the Griffith Observatory in Griffith Park. Griffith Park is the largest city park in the U.S. Really.

With over 4,210 acres of both natural chapparal-covered terrain and landscaped parkland and picnic areas, Griffith Park is the largest municipal park with urban wilderness area in the United States. ...

Originally a part of the Spanish land grant, Rancho Los Feliz, the park was named for its former owner, Colonel Griffith J. Griffith.

That would be enough to thank Col. Griffith for but he also was very interested in astronomy and soon Los Angeles had a state-of-the art observatory, built in a charming art deco style (which, now that I come to think of it, was state-of-the-art for ... art!).

Today, the insides have been turned into one of those education places that are au courant. We'd have preferred to see it turned more into a museum of what was "state of the art" at the time, however, we were still able to imagine what it was like when astronomers from around the country and the world worked there.

My favorite part was walking around the outside of the building and up to the top. It features a magnificent view of the park and across Los Angeles where you can see the ocean glinting in the distance. It also has what may be the best view of the Hollywood sign around.

We actually do have pictures of a lot of these things, including us in front of this sign (du rigeur for a L.A. visit, isn't it?), but I've got to get them from Tom.

Next, I'll be talking about our other "must see" tourist destination ... the Los Angeles Cathedral. Is it the monstrosity of architecture that I've heard it is? Well, yes. And no.

L. A. Diary: Lettuce Love

Part 1: We Begin
Part 2: On the Road
Part 3: We Arrive
Part 4: The Strange Encounter
Part 5: The Best Deal (or Two) in L.A.Part 6: Land of Dreams
Part 7: Meeting New Old Friends

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The produce! Oh the produce in the L. A. grocery stores.

Even the average, nonorganic, run-of-the-mill green leaf lettuce is as fresh and crisp as if you had just picked it yourself.

Never let them tell you that travel time doesn't matter, evidently. Every store we tried had the most wonderful produce although it was rather odd to see the "locally grown" and realize it meant "from California."

Also, it was funny to see that they have the same stores but just call them something else. Let's see if I get this right ... Krogers is Ralph's (yes, really), Safeway is Vonn's, and then there's a store called Gelson's which is fairly high end but like a Simon David-ish store would be here.

Also they have Trader Joe's but after being in one in Chicago I am disenchanted. They are nothing special. Cheap but nothing special.

L. A. Diary: Meeting an Old Friend, for the First Time

Part 1: We Begin
Part 2: On the Road
Part 3: We Arrive
Part 4: The Strange Encounter
Part 5: The Best Deal (or Two) in L.A.

Part 6: Land of Dreams

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There's always a unique tension in meeting people in person who you've only corresponded with ... or whose blogs you've read for a long time. The impressions you gain those ways can be very different sometimes with the person you meet face to face.

It isn't that you don't eventually work your way to that common ground that you both know each other from, but it can take a while and be awkward.

Then there are the people who have the happy knack of diving right into conversation as if you had lunch with them every day.

So you can imagine my pleasure at finding Will Duquette from The View From the Foothills is the second sort. As is his sweet wife, Jane.

Will and Jane were very kind to Tom and Rose on their initial trip to L.A. and both were looking forward to seeing the Duquettes again. We met up at a Mexican restaurant in their neck of the woods, or should I say foothills? We definitely were in beautiful, hilly terrain.

And we dove right into talk as if we were long-lost family members picking up where we left off. Books, California, the faith (of course) were all grist for the mill and we talked nonstop for at least a couple of hours. It was a real treat and hard to tear ourselves away.

I'm already looking forward to our next trip to L.A. in no little part because we'll get more talking time in with Will and Jane (and I can see their remodeled kitchen).

If you haven't dropped by Will's place lately, do make a point to stop by. He's been writing much more lately (you are all welcome very much), mostly about philosophy and sometimes about coffee. I've been enjoying it all a great deal, even if we did have a friendly debate about the Joe Ledger books and Evil.

Don't miss it ... The View From the Foothills.

Tomorrow, we'll fall in love.

L. A. Diary: It Is the Land of Dreams

Part 1: We Begin

Part 2: On the Road

Part 3: We Arrive

Part 4: The Strange Encounter

Part 5: The Best Deal (or Two) in L.A.

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A quick observation.

You can buy liquor in the grocery store in California!

This is not new to anyone from, say, Missouri. Where I also was surprised every time I'd visit my parents and find a fully stocked liquor section.

But it never fails to surprise me.

We took advantage of the novelty by making sure that Rose had what she needed to offer us proper cocktails in the evening.

Ah, it can be very good to be Catholic!

Next, we meet an old friend, for the first time!

L. A. Diary: The Best Deal in L. A. ... Maybe the Best TWO Deals in L. A.

Part 1: We Begin

Part 2: On the Road

Part 3: We Arrive

Part 4: The Strange Encounter

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Once we didn't have to worry about accommodating a dog, hotel selection became somewhat easier.

Or did it?

Once Tom began scouting hotels near Los Feliz it became clear that there weren't many national chains nearby. That turned out to be a blessing in disguise because it forced us to go local.

Normally, we'd have jumped at the "local" option, but we'd experienced enough inconveniences on this trip to make predictable comfort a very desirable thing.

However, we chose wisely.

BrandWood Hotel, a boutique hotel "in the historic and upscale downtown district in city of Glendale" had more good reviews than bad. We figured it couldn't be worse than many of the European hotels we'd stayed at and booked the room. We could always relocate after one night.

For one thing, could any hotel room really be great if it was only $105 per night?

Yes.

Definitely.

We can't praise it highly enough.

Charming decor, comfortable rooms, adequate bathrooms (not luxurious but the hot water never ran out), solicitous and friendly staff ... it was fantastic.

For breakfast it was a hop, skip, and a jump to Portos Bakery down the street, where we quickly became addicted to their rich coffee which was also surprisingly inexpensive ... a large was $1.79. Unheard of!

Likewise, the many fine bakery offerings, which had locals lined up every day, were also quite inexpensive. And delicious. Quite delicious.

Altogether, Glendale turned out to be a felicitous choice!

We were always ready for days of setting up Rose's new digs and dealing with the challenges of setting up Rose's new digs.

Luckily Zoe only needed one night of sleeping in the new place with Rose to decide this was home ... and pick a spot in the nearby park for her very own "safe place." That was the biggest problem off of our minds ... finally!

We were free for other encounters ... of the personal kind. As well as some delightful discoveries. Which we will talk about next week!

L. A. Diary: Happy Catholic and the Strange Encounter

Part 1: We Begin

Part 2: On the Road

Part 3: We Arrive

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So, there we were, beat up from 5 hours of driving, 3 hours of steady box moving, several days of jittery Boxer toilet patrol, and showing it, I am sorry to say.

Looking for the nearest hotel that would take a dog, we wound up at the Hollywood Holiday Inn. Which didn't take dogs, as it turns out, but did afford us a glimpse of the hubbub surrounding big doings at Grauman's Chinese Theater with media lights and a huge crowd as we negotiated the insane traffic.

Finally, after making the wise decision to do a broader computer search for dog-friendly hotels from the Holiday Inn parking lot, we headed for the Marriott near Bob Hope Airport, thinking it would provide a little peace and quiet.

I thoroughly enjoyed the ride by Warner Brothers Studios again, through Burbank which looked quaintly nostalgic for the 1950s (my grandparents went to a pharmacy that looked just like one we passed), and then just a bit further to the Marriott.

The Marriott, however, instead of being that island of peace we imagined, seemed to have a lot going on. As Rose and I waited for Tom to come out, we wondered what event was going on that required so many black ties, limos, and bustling bellboys. Tom emerged, with a bellboy in tow, and dispatched us with Zoe to go to the room while he parked.  We took said bellboy in tow, now pushing a cart laden with our many bags. And Zoe's giant water bowl. (Chic. That's us.)

We got to the lobby well ahead of our escort and paused, nonplussed. There was a huge cocktail party. Everyone was talking just as fast and loud as they could. The noise level was incredible. They were dressed up, some in rather garish clothing. Entering that riot of noise, especially after the day we'd had, was disorienting. We looked down at Zoe who was pressed against Rose's leg, obviously wondering what fresh hell we'd brought her to now. We looked again at that crowd and then the bellboy said, "Straight ahead, ma'am, and then through the bar to the elevators."

What?

We looked again at Zoe, each other, and the gauntlet ahead. I told Rose, "I feel as if we ought to have a greyhound on a fancy leash to take through this crowd." She laughed and we forged ahead.

Everyone turned to look and delightedly gestured, smiled, or cried out, "Look! A Boxer! I love Boxers!"

Zoe pressed harder against Rose's leg, kept her head down, and we all kept going, with everything a blur around us.

(Who builds their elevators behind the bar? Seriously!)

Finally, the gauntlet passed, we were safe in our rooms. I began taking inventory and pulling out the bottles for cocktails. (Yes, we were supplied and never had we been gladder than that evening when every nerve was frayed.)

Tom arrived and we all felt the room service salads crying out to us after all that fast food on the road. Rose left with Zoe to look for the patch of grass the front desk had mentioned. Tom left also (I can't remember why now). I called room service.

"Yes, ma'am, how may we serve you?"

"I'd like to order two Chicken Caesar salads and one Cobb Salad."

"Yes, ma'am. And how many people will be dining?"

Pause. I didn't know what that question meant. Wasn't this fairly straight forward?

Wait. Just how big were those salads?

"I'm sorry. How many people?"

"Yes, ma'am. So we know how many plates and how much cutlery to send up."

"Okaaay. Well, we'd like two Chicken Caesar salads and one Cobb Salad. So that's three salads. One for each of us. So that's three people?"

"Yes, ma'am. Sometimes we might get one person who would order three salads."

Aha.

Had we somehow actually had taken a short jog to Las Vegas? For some reason, I felt a casino vibe in the air now.

Tom came back and I told him about the conversation. His eyes twinkled and he laughed.

"Welcome to Hollywood!"

Rose returned, her eyes twinkling and a grin on her face.

"I found out who all those people are downstairs. It's a convention for the sex industry!"

We gaped at her. And then we all burst out laughing out loud.

"The patch of grass is right next to the convention hall and it has all glass walls. I was just staring into space and then I realized that the exhibit booth I was looking at was for Fleshlight - the number one sex toy for men."

Euwwww. Incredulous laughter from us.

"And then I started looking at the other booths. Trojan. Hustler. That's when I realized what was going on."

Tom got on the computer and we discovered that we'd landed right smack dab in the center of the annual convention for "adult industry" marketers (XBIZ Retail).

Vegas. Definitely a Vegas vibe was what I felt.

Rose got a big Vegas-style dose when waiting for the elevator to return to the room. Her eyes were past twinkling by now. They were gleaming with humor.

"It isn't just marketers here. There must be some of the 'stars' too. The elevator opened and I was eye to eye with a couple of implants that made Pamela Anderson look flat! How can she stand up straight? And who would think that is attractive?"

Zoe continued to be shy about wetting around strangers. We took turns hourly walking her and all had a chance to marvel over the idea of having a marketing convention for the sex industry.

As we would brace ourselves for the elevators to open to the noise of the bar and lobby party, two things became clear.

One: the Boxer just may be America's favorite dog. Every trip had cries wafting after us of, "Look! A Boxer. I love Boxers!" As the evening went on, the numbers did not decrease but they did grow increasingly drunk. My last trip at 11:00 was to shrill whistles and treats being tossed to Zoe as she slid by, ears back.

Tom finally set the alarm and got up at 2:00 a.m. The lobby party was still going strong, but there was finally a lack of outdoor traffic and Zoe gratefully used her toilet privileges in private.

Two: the second thing was that every time I looked at these very normal seeming people, I was filled with pity for them. They had managed to fool themselves into thinking that their marketing jobs were just like any others. Of course, in the sheer mechanics, they are. But in the sheer misery of soul that their industry generates to people ... well, that is hard to measure but it is no less real for being invisible. I began praying for them. And I still do so whenever I think of that evening, which has been fairly often as we have told this story.

The Marriott was a luxurious treat, beyond our budget, but for one evening it was just what we needed. And I'd have never seen "Vegas in Hollywood" without it.

We knew we'd have to find cheaper digs the next day. And, out of the blue we found what just may be the best deal in Los Angeles.

Which I will tell you about ... tomorrow!

L. A. Diary: We Arrive and I Discover that I Love L.A.

Part 1: We Begin

Part 2: On the Road

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Once we got to the other side of those mountains, which actually look like foothills to anyone who grew up visiting Colorado on a regular basis, we hit Los Angeles.

What a surprise it was.

The movies made me think of it as flat.

This was enhanced when Tom told me many years ago that L.A. was like a huge version of Houston. Hmmm. Houston is flat as a pancake, full of clogged highways, and, frankly, not my cup of tea.

This city though was not like the descriptions or movies. It was clumps of hills with houses clinging to the sides and grouped around the base, highways weaving around them. The houses were brightly colored or Spanish-style architecture or just exotic looking.

I feasted my eyes.

This was anything but flat and boring!

As we laboriously made our way through town to Rose's new neighborhood of Los Feliz, my enchantment grew. For some reason Brazil came to mind. Yes, that is just how exotic it felt. I loved it! And that enchantment lasted the entire time we were there.

Rose's apartments, which back up to a huge hill and face a city park, continued my pleasure. Much larger than we expected, with hardwood floors and open courtyards, it was a lovely place to think of Rose and Zoe spending their time.

We crammed the car and U-Haul into Rose's parking place and hurriedly began hauling boxes to and fro. We wanted to unload that darned trailer and only had a couple of hours before the U-Haul office closed. We made the deadline and felt as light as a feather continuing without it behind us in the L.A. traffic. Why, we could even back up! No more determining destinations based on pull-through parking. Woohoo!

Rose and Zoe would spend one more night with us in a hotel. There was no way we were going to abandon them with the bed not even put together and the entire place full of boxes.

But where would take a dog?

Not many places, as it turned out.

However, both the Marriott and the Holiday Inn near the Bob Hope Airport would do so. And they weren't too far away. Based on the photos, Tom thought the Marriott looked quieter and more relaxing.

Thus did we learn that you really cannot judge a hotel by its picture.

Little did we know that we were embarking upon the strangest encounter we would have the entire time. And, now that I think of it, I'm not sure our family has ever had an evening like the one we had at the Marriott.

Once again, that's a story for another day.

L. A. Diary: On the Road

Part 1: We Begin

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Adventure or inconvenience ... this one is easy.

Driving is worth it. The scenery is simply fantastic.

As Tom said, it is like that first scene from Silverado. Scott Glenn has been inside a tiny, dark cabin evading shotgun blasts from an unknown assassin on the outside. He prevails and swings open the door and ...

... there taking up the entire screen is a glorious panorama that you can hardly believe is real.

Those filmmakers must have driven through the west.

Not that there weren't inconveniences. We had plenty to make sure we appreciated the boons we were granted (such as that scenery).

The half hour of waiting in traffic just outside of Fort Worth after we'd been driving only about 20 minutes from home. Some genius in the local Transportation department had detoured four lanes through an access road.

Zoe's continual nervousness at the traffic. Every time a big truck roared by she jumped to her feet and whirled to look out the window. This was just for the first day, but she was so nervous that we all had to sit in the car with her so that she'd take a drink of water. And after she did ... she vomited. Luckily, your eagle-eyed Happy Catholic was in the back seat, noticed the gulping (and seconds later, the heaving sides) and grabbed the giant water bowl to hold under her mouth. And my instinct to cover the back seat and environs with old towels gave us a nice mouth-wipe for after.

The food. Dear Lord, the endless outlets for fast food of every sort. This wasn't helped by the fact that the U-Haul dictated our choice of restaurants. If we couldn't pull through, then we didn't dine there. (I use the word "dine" loosely, but you get the idea.)

But without those inconveniences we wouldn't have been able to revel in this glorious Western scenery. Not for the first few hours. West Texas is no treat for the eyes, except possibly in high summer. But as soon as we hit New Mexico the mesas made me remember not only Silverado, but every Western movie I'd ever seen.

It was sunset and the rich golden glow from the west put everything in sharp silhouette. The mesas stood black against the light. It was almost too much for the eyes but we couldn't quit staring.

The next two days saw more mesas, mountains, glorious rolling desert ... and then for a couple of hours before hitting the California mountains, we were back in nondescript landscape. And then we rolled through those hills and saw L.A.

But that's a story for another day. Tomorrow,  in fact.

L. A. Diary: We Begin

An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered; an adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.

G.K. Chesterton, On Running After Ones Hat, All Things Considered, 1908

I came across this quote at exactly the right time.

We were beginning to plunge into executing the seemingly endless details necessary to drive Rose to Los Angeles. She finished college in three years after majoring in film editing. After a few months off to enjoy the holidays at home, was ready to begin job hunting. Tom thought that the film industry is such a tough field to break into that we would support her using the money we planned for that unneeded fourth college year. That way she could afford to take a low paying, beginner's job somewhere that she could get a toe-hold for better things later.

Complicating things somewhat was the fact that Rose wanted to take Zoe, one of our Boxers. We applauded this impulse, not least because Zoe was the most annoying member of the household. A rescue dog of show-quality beauty, Zoe combined a high-strung, fashion model's temperament with several ingrained habits learned at her first home. We spent a lot of time judging whether Zoe's restlessness called for rawhide bones, which she consumed at an alarming rate, but which also acted like a drug on her system. She would begin gnawing and she would "put on her soft face" as we called it, with her eyes turning red with relaxation.

Traveling across the country with Zoe would be interesting, to say the least. For one thing, we thought she was leash-trained for going out, but weren't sure how this would work out on the road. For another thing, finding hotels that would take dogs was problematic. Luckily most Holiday Inn Expresses did, for an extra fee.

Zoe also made internet apartment hunting an interesting challenge. However, Rose was determined. She saw Zoe as protection for a girl alone in the big city. We agreed and also liked the idea that Rose would have some "family" with her while learning the L.A. ropes before making new friends.

Then there was the fact that we'd be gone from work for ten days. We'd never been gone so long from our business. While Rose was packing everything she owned into boxes, Tom was measuring furniture and consulting with the local U-Haul, I was arranging for a house-sitter who would care for Wash the Boxer, and Hannah was moving out to a duplex with her two dogs.

Amid the whirlwind of activity, changing plans, uncertainty, and fears, I saw that G. K. Chesterton had the proper perspective. It didn't change my harried state of mind but it became the mantra I repeated whenever I felt overwhelmed. I was mired in inconveniences but somehow, I knew, these could be the doorway to adventure.

And G. K.'s wise words followed us on the road to L.A. as we drove with the complications of U-Haul and Zoe, spending money like water on the way.

There were inconveniences to be sure. But the adventures were great and varied.

More to come tomorrow on all that, from the small observations to the absurdities that introduced us to Los Angeles.