Intrepididity - Thursday 12/18/2008

As we ended our hike, we passed a couple of kids heading out. With a laundry basket as a make-shift sled.


Oops!

Hydra told them that we'd scared off the polar bears.

The little one looked at us, and the hill, and home and said, "I'm going back!"



His big brother soldiered on. Though I think he'd have done better sliding on a garbage bag.

There and Back Again, Again - Friday 11/28/2008

So... after a nice day of reading at home, I thought I'd go get the mail. Went to retrieve the mailbox key from the hook and...

Oh. No.

I instantly flashed on my keys in my jacket on the bed in the Cuz's spare room.

Called them. Yes, they found the jacket right after we'd left, but didn't know the keys were in there.

So on the day upon which I planned to buy nothing and drive nowhere, I ended up driving 220 miles round trip and buying gas in Orange County.

But I had my iPod, so I sang along to favorite tunes all the way there, and listened to stockpiled episodes of This American Life on the way back. Accomplished the whole thing, including a short conversation with the Cuzzes, in four hours. Traffic was moving.

Sigh.

Superhero Waitstaff - Tuesday 8/12/2008

P poses with the lascivious looking plastic chef. That's her artwork and lettering. She loves changing the special boards and she's good at it.

I haven't been getting to Andrew's in the mornings very much lately because I've been going in to work early. Working 9 to 11 hour days. It's just all hitting at once...aaah.

This means no writing in the mornings, and then I'm too beat at night. It'll come back. But it's frustrating right now.

I went in this morning with new scripts from three different shows that I had to read and do reports on by this afternoon. This is a huge amount of work. I vowed I'd power through the reading and breaking down part while I was at the diner because I am so sick of my desk at work.

"We're gonna get you through this," P said as she poured my fourth cup of coffee.

Whew! I made it.

Odd Job Seeker - Wednesday 7/23/2008

Because our little town goes through growth spurts every so often, you see a lot of these group mailboxes around. It saves the post office sending someone around to each and every house in our 154-house complex.

People post notices on the mailboxes. Usually advertisements for the Homeowners' Association meetings or for Bingo night at the club house. (Yes, I'm serious.)

The middle one, hoping for the return of a darling lost cat has been there the longest. I hope they find her. Odds are not good out here in coyote country.

The top one gave me a laugh because I misread it as "Lost Bed" when I first saw it. I'm thinking how the heck do you lose a bed!?

Ah...loft bed. I see!



This one showed up yesterday. It made me smile for so many reasons.

Hysteric Route 66 - Sunday 6/22/2008

If we had turned around right here, we would have saved ourselves about an hour and a half.

If we had really looked at the map, we would have known that we didn't want to go through Oro Grande again to get home.

[This photo was actually taken yesterday, when I was in the passenger seat, but it's just the right illustration for today.]

Well, we saw a lot more of Historic Route 66 than we planned to! Isn’t that great? Yeah!

We merrily headed out of Victorville, CA at 10 o’clock this morning, feeling like we were getting away with something. We’d gone out for breakfast and packed up and I was excited about pulling the trailer. This is a step up from my usual mildly-frightened-but-determined attitude.

I guess we got cocky and didn’t check the map. It was a crummy map with gaps in crucial places, but it would have helped. We’d driven about 40 miles in the wrong direction before we figured it out. Even the abandoned gas stations had thinned out when I pulled over and we checked the few listed landmarks.

We had passed Silver Lakes (ha!), Helendale and Hodge [< Honestly, click on the map to fully appreciate!] before Hydra mentioned that we should really be seeing the San Gabriel mountains by now. He was so right.

Instead of turning around, we went on in the direction we were headed, which ended up adding almost 100 miles to our trip home! (Going to Victorville from Acton on Friday was only about 60!) This is about 37 miles further than if we'd turned around, but like I said we were working from truly crummy partial Google maps.

It did cross my mind that I was taking the lives of my dear spouse, our whole flock and myself in my hands as I turned off of old 66 onto lonely Hinkly Road to cut across to the 58. It was 107 on the Tahoe’s external thermometer and we were pulling a 27 foot trailer, to boot!

Everything worked out fine, but this is a vista I would just as well have missed. I love a new road, but I was kind of over it by the time Hydra took over.

But you know, we did put a positive spin on it, reminding ourselves that we wouldn’t have seen this if we hadn’t come this way, and that we’d gotten an early start.

Getting all bent out of shape over stuff like this is really more exhausting than it’s worth.


Another thing we wouldn't have seen if we hadn't been entering Mojave on the west bound 58 for the first time ever: this cool airplane graveyard. Which maybe made the whole detour worthwhile for a certain aircraft enthusiast in the car. [Hint: Not me; not Dodger.]

And yet: Number One on To Do list before next trip there: Get a decent map of San Bernardino County!

Giant Bowl o' Butter - Tuesday 6/10/2008

Apparently this giant bowl of butter has intrigued others before me.

"People are fascinated with it," the night waitress tells me when I ask if I can take a picture of it. "They want to touch it."

Some have gone further.

One night a couple of drunk college students were in the all-night diner early in the morning. They were horsing around, and one of them grabbed the butter and dumped it on the other's head. (Thank goodness it's whipped!)

"Butter went everywhere! It was all over the guys, on the counter, on the floor. They were both slipping around in it. We call it the Great Butter Caper."

They have a pretty good attitude at Andrew's.





When I opened the car door outside the gym, there was this leaf on the asphalt. The arc is the shadow of my steering wheel.

Sometimes all you have to do is pay attention.

Car Wash - Saturday 6/7/2008

In the parking lot of the gym, Saturday morning.

One of those high school car wash events that make me feel like I'm living in a community more like the one I grew up with than I did when I lived in L.A.

High school kids are actually quite often polite out here in the high desert. Maybe it's just because I look like I might know their mom, but hey, kindness just makes the world spin a little easier.

It's Just Sad - Wednesday 5/4/2008

Yeah, it's sad that a lot of the big old pine trees in our neighborhood are dying and no one seems to know why.

But even sadder is this vision of a big wonderful log cordoned off with safety tape.

Heaven forbid anyone should have a real life experience with something and--gasp!--get hurt by it. A toe could be stubbed! A sliver could get into a fingertip!

I mean, really? What's the worst that could happened? Death by stumbling off the end of it?

It's sad that our litigious society means that kids are protected from just about everything that their healthy normal curiosity might lead them to explore. They're being protected into a stupor!

Want to know why I don't have kids? One reason is, I can't imagine raising a child and not being able to let her roam free like I did. I would not be who I am without the woods, the fields and the scabbed knees in my past.

Cow & Pig - Tuesday 4/8/2008

This is Cow and Pig.

Or... Pig and Cow.

We really didn't get to know each other well enough for me to say which is which. They were coming out of CVS pharmacy at 5:15 in the morning as I was on my way in.

They look really cute with their big untrimmed ears up, but as soon as I dropped to my knee to take their picture they completely lost focus. First they stormed me with tongues and wild tails, then they dissolved into general excitement.

Their guy said, "Yeah, they're not too good at that."

It was a nice little encounter. I went on in and bought a battery for my watch. I have about 4 watches, none of which works because the little jewelry shop down the street from my office closed about three years ago and I hadn't found a new place. I kind of knew I could have gotten a battery and replaced it myself, but I liked supporting the elderly guy who owned the shop. I think he charged $10 or $15 for the battery and replacement. I usually had to leave it with him for the afternoon.

The night manager at CVS actually changed it for me after I assured him it was old and not valuable and I wouldn't give him a hard time if he nicked it with the little screwdriver. I don't think he does this for everyone, but I go in early in the a.m. every so often and I think the cashier kind of took me under her wing. She went and got him to do it when I asked where the watch batteries were.

Spinach Soup - Tuesday 3/4/2008

By the time I took this photo I was so hungry that I didn't check the clarity of the shot.

You get the idea, though. I tried a new recipe for Spinach Soup from Eating Well magazine. I didn't make the croûtons, but the soup is wonderful on its own. It's not too hard either to make or to find the ingredients for. It is good, however, if you have one of those immersible hand blenders, otherwise you have to transfer the soup to a regular blender.

Cool Thing: Hydra was right when he said this wonderful video of a kid's amazing basketball experience would appeal to the Indiana in me. I predict that you will like it. I further predict that if you grew up Hoosier it will actually bring tears to your eyes.

Cool Thing #2 : Bonus! When I sent the above video to The American, she responded with this little gem.

LOL! I have the greatest friends.

Playtime! - Monday 3/3/2008

Mamalisa's two adorables are going to be spending a couple of hours in the office every afternoon, so Hondista came in over the weekend and did a surprise makeover on Mamalisa's office, which included this arts and crafts area.

There are also prints from Disney movies on the walls, magnets on the side of the filing cabinet, a TV with DVD/video player, books, toys, and a corkboard for each girl to hang her artwork on.

You can see why we keep coming back to work here even though there are sometimes hard times.

Moonlighting - Wednesday 1/30/2008

Lady Liberty is alive and well and is currently booking appointments to do your taxes.



The sad truth of the long shot. That's a feed store across the road to the right. Somehow I don't think a lot of my fellow Actonites are going to trust their finances to a a guy in a green dress and horns.

But maybe he can write off his Hallowe'en costume?

I was on the cell with Hydra when I first passed through the 4-way stop at Sierra Highway and Crown Valley Road (the closest thing we have to a stop light here in Acton.) I laughed out loud and Hydra suggested I go back and get the shot. Not having anything better on the flashcard today, I obliged. Glad I did.

I actually waved at him and pointed at the camera. People are pretty cool, really.

Thanks, H.

The Etiquette of Restaurants - Tuesday 11/27/2007

A man with a briefcase comes in and stands near the register. He is uncomfortable. He is unsure whether it’s all right to just go take a seat or if he has to wait for someone to escort him past the curved counter.

He is exposed. He is on display. He won’t look at the other patrons who could probably answer his question. He has committed to some rules of behavior.

I look up a couple of times. If he meets my eye, I’ll tell him that it’s okay to sit anywhere.

I’ve been in that position. Most recently in a restaurant in France in which my mother and I made spectacles of ourselves standing and waiting for a cue, then walking deep into the busy dining room, then walking awkwardly back to the door and waiting until we could catch the eye of one of the busy servers to get permission to enter.

Yikes. I felt like I had "AMERICANO" or the French equivalent etched on my forehead.

The waiting man gets the attention of someone in the back. He lifts his chin, smiles, nods, points with one fully outstretched arm toward the back of the restaurant and starts walking.

The rules are different in the early morning hours. Unless the back is blocked off, it's anarchy! You can sit anywhere! If you get here at lunch time, not only do you have to be seated by a hostess, but you might have to wait 10-15 minutes for a table.

A man in the black sweater and baseball cap pushes through the big glass doors. He knows his way around restaurants. Or at least around pre-dawn Big Boy. He slides into the booth in front of me with his back to me.

He orders coffee, ice water, corned beef hash with poached eggs, fruit, and an English muffin with butter on the side without even looking at the menu.

Diner Rock Star!

*******

Oh, and here's another WGA Strike video. A really funny one. Only 2:56 minutes of your time. Free! (Sold yet?)

Talking Around It - Tuesday 11/13/2007

Let me see if I can reconstruct the conversation I had this morning at Starbucks. (Bob's was closed for cleaning. Sigh. And me dressed like a grown-up for once.)

Man walks into a coffee house, orders, pauses at a table to wait while his haiku of a beverage is constructed. There's a newspaper on the table.

"None of us are going to get rich at this rate," he says in my direction. "Well, I never expected to get rich. I just didn't expect to be poor."

I pause for a second. Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?

"It doesn't look like it's going to end anytime soon," I say, my fountain pen hovering over my notebook.

"Nope. This is terrible. Terrible. They're going to ruin television," he says. "These guys aren't going to budge."

"I don't think they are." Not sure which side he's talking about. "There aren't even any talks scheduled at this point."

The barrista recites his haiku and he gets up to fetch his beverage. He turns around and looks from my face to my notebook to my face again.

"I do script research for a living," I tell him, "We're hoping to hang on till the new year, but... No scripts, no research."

"Oh, yeah," he says. "You're done."

He has good timing.

"Are you in production?" I ask. He has an ID on a lanyard around his neck. In this neighborhood, that usually means a studio or maybe St. Joseph's hospital, but he's wearing a cream cable sweater, not scrubs.

"I work for the actor Rob Lowe who's on Sisters and Brothers." Yeah, I know of Rob Lowe. "He's not working."

We wish each other good luck, and he heads for the back door.

I was going to print a disclaimer here, saying that this blog entry does not represent the opinions of Rob Lowe or his employees or associates. But then I realized that neither of us expressed an opinion beyond an agreement that our livelihoods are in jeopardy.

I guess that's how amicable strangers agree to disagree.

Or not.

Anyway, here's another fine video from those writers whose creative talents are being used to keep the discussion interesting.

Writer's Strike Hits Big Boy - Thursday 11/8/2007

As you can see, it was a bit of a gloomy day in Toluca Lake yesterday. This is a side view of the Big Boy sign from across the street.

I walked in after a 2 1/2 week absence (the morning regulars hadn't seen me on Monday with Mom) and opened my laptop and got started.

Waiter D came by just before his shift started at 6:00 a.m. and said, with a smile in his eye, "You're writing? You're writing again?"

"Yep! Back at it." All proud of myself for finally showing up after so many days of not really concentrating on anything.

"What about the writer's strike? You'd better be careful!" he said, sliding a tray of glasses into its slot beneath the wait-station sink.

"Oh-- It's not that kind of writing. I don't write scripts. I'm not in the Guild."

"Still, watch it. There was a guy came in here yesterday asking how far our security cameras reach. He was from Universal. He had some kind of argument about the strike out there, and the other guy tried to strangle him!" D demonstrated two hands around an imaginary neck. "It's getting crazy already."

Wow. No kidding.

Later, on my way out, I stopped to talk with the 3 Musketeers who were curious whether I'd been laid off or what. They are two older guys who own a printing business and one younger guy who I found out today owns a gas station. They are more regular regulars than I, hardly ever missing a weekday.

The younger guy asked if I know a location scout.

"No, but I might be able to find one. Why?"

Turns out that a location scout asked about using his gas station as a location and asked what he'd want for compensation. I told him what I've heard from people whose houses have been used. That they usually get the amount per day of their monthly mortgage payment.

He seemed happy about that. I said that he should probably also take into consideration what it might cost him in lost business.

"So?" one of the older guys asked, "Is $5,000 enough for the inconvenience to your customers?"

"Are you kidding?" The other one said, talking to me now, "For $5,000 he'd stay there all night serving coffee and donuts!"

We also talked about the strike. The previously funny one said, "The way to end it? Dissolve the union."

"Oh no," I said, "I'm not with you on that. And what they're asking for..." All stuff you've heard me say here.

The two older guys have heavy Russian accents. Now I wish I'd told them that I'm practically a socialist. I'd have liked to have seen their reactions. I sure wouldn't want to work for them. They always seem to think their employees take advantage of them simply by asking for a paycheck, let alone vacations. I try to tell myself it's just blowhardiness.

While we were talking about the strike the 5 or 6 big burly men at the next table kept glancing over at us. Probably teamsters. Truck drivers who have a real moral dilemma at hand.

They don't want to cross picket lines, but have reportedly been told by the studios that they are free to strike, of course. But if they do, they will be replaced and if the new hires don't volunteer to leave after the strike, they won't be let go. Aha. Very nice.

Cool Thing: an unofficial, but very interesting WGA strike blog called United Hollywood, which has great tales of real-life experiences on the picket lines, etc.

Cool Thing #2!: you really should take a minute and thirty-one seconds to watch this funny strike video submitted to YouTube by Daily Show writer Rob Kutner.

[Thanks to The American for keeping me abreast of all the latest news, and passing along great links like the ones above.]

Fear and Perception - Monday 10/8/2007

The illustration above clarified my thinking about the gall bladder: it's green, it lurks, and you have to go in X-Files style and route it out. Afterwards--or maybe even during the surgery itself--you will be able to eat a cracker with a big lump of cheese on it.

All right!

For those of you outside the range of my whimper, this will be news.

I'm going to have my gall bladder removed on October 22nd. I have a 2 cm+ gall stone that periodically causes me pain and discomfort. I've been convinced, as the surgeon said last night in the pre-op consultation, that "The risks of not having this surgery are greater than the risks of having it."

Plus, I don't trust the state of health insurance in America. If I should leave or lose my job, this would be a pre-existing (read that: non-covered) procedure. As it is, it's a common and low-risk surgery.

Still, I'll be taking off work for the two weeks the surgeon recommends. My mom's coming out, so we can talk a lot and she can make sure I keep walking more every day, etc.

I feel a lot more confident about this after having the consult last night (with Hydra there for extra questions.) They also ran tests, most of which I have the results of already (kudos to the Internet and Kaiser's use of it), which identify me as in good health going into this. Better than in a crisis, which a gallstone can create.



Seriously, if you'd asked me yesterday morning, I would have described Dr. Z (the surgeon) as looking kind of like this guy from Buffy the Vampire Slayer's ultra-creepy episode, "Hush," but with wispy hair and a fillet knife behind his back.



After seeing him last night, I realize that I would actually cast James Olson--remember him as the single guy with the key from Andromeda Strain (1971)?--as Dr. Z.

Much nicer.

Cool Thing: On a side note we watched a PBS show about California during World War II last night and I learned that Kaiser Permanente really started the concept of HMOs with the Kaiser Shipyards. When I looked up their history, I see that it's earliest incarnation was in Mojave, CA and that it treated workers on the Los Angeles Aquaduct that brings water from my beloved Owens Valley to L.A.

Portos Revisted - Thursday 10/4/2007

Emily, the waitress at Big Boy, was telling me how to avoid the always troublesome transition from the North 170 to the North 5. I recognized the route as the one I take if I'm picking up from Porto's on the way home (which is rare.)

She said, "I love those guava and cheese strudels! They're so good!"

Oh, they are. Later that morning I got to thinking about those and the Pan con Lechon (fabulous pork sandwhich), so I went around the office taking orders. Ah, the flutters! The cries of guava strudel! potato ball! Cubano! butter cookie!

They're so good on the same day they're made. I stopped by Big Boy in the middle of the lunch rush.

"Emily!" I said, finding her next to an empty table, "I went to Porto's!" I handed her the small waxed white paper bag.

"Oh, I love you honey!" she laughed, taking it, "See you tomorrow!"

As I made my way back to the front, the waiter D tapped on his watch and shook his head.

Hee hee! Fun.

Stupid Plaster Owl - Wednesday 9/26/2007

We went out to see the beautiful sunset from the background and there's the Stupid Plaster Owl that the Stupid Neighbor erected in his back yard. He thinks that birds wouldn't eat the fruit from his (stupidly un-pruned) fruit tree if we weren't feeding them seeds just a few feet away in our yard.

This is the guy who planted two trees right in front of our living room window, completely obliterating the view that was one of the reasons we bought the house. This is the guy who leaves his front porch light on all night in a neighborhood we moved to in order to get away from city lights. (We let a shrub grow high so it doesn't invade through our living room window.)

I honestly do not care if we're drawing birds to his fruit trees, though I don't think they need a feeder to make them notice the fruit. Birds, unlike some neighbors, are not Stupid.

When we asked him not to plant the tree, he just shrugged and did it anyway. When he complained to Hydra about the birds eating his fruit, Hydra offered to help him put a bird net over the tree. It works for us.

And anyway, when the birds start to eat it, you know it's ripe and you should pick it. We usually leave some fruit for the birds anyway.

Meanwhile, we actually get along with the Stupid Neighbor pretty well. We all smile and say hello, and I don't know if that's hypocrisy or emotional survival. I just can't be angry with him all the time. And he's mostly a pretty nice guy, who offered to loan us his little open trailer if we ever need it. We'd do him a favor too, if he asked.

Like I said, I don't want to be upset with him all the time. But I have to admit that I do let it creep in from time to time.

Okay, enough.

Heading Home - Sunday 9/23/2007

Alas, the sun rises on Sunday morning and it's the day of our departure. The first night with no rain and look what the clouds left behind!




We went to the Totem Cafe in Lone Pine for breakfast with our friends. Lookit! Gary Cooper signed their Famous Wall!

We packed up and headed out a little before noon, a little before B&G. We had to drive a bit cautiously with the trailer because you just do, and because there was some gusty wind knocking us around a little. B&G passed us just beyond Pearsonville.



Guess what? B&G blew out a front left tire about a mile and a half from Red Rock Canyon. You don't even want to know. This was the third tire that blew out on this trip! They've now had to replace 4 of the 8 tires that were on this rig when they bought it three years ago.

Somebody at All Valley RV is going to get a talking to, you bet.



Telephoto lens catches Hydra and G walking north along the 14, trying to find the spot where B had cell phone connection right before the blow out. They got a connection, but it was the auto line rather than the RV line, and then it mysteriously dropped service. Aaaah. After about 20 minutes, they decided to catch a ride with us to Red Rock where B used the rangers' satellite phone to call AAA.

G moved the crippled RV by the time we got back to them, and was on a very difficult curve, stopped by the guard rail from going the last quarter mile to RRC. B was steamed. The place they'd originally stopped would have been decent to change a tire.

"I love him, but I'm going to kill him," she said as she got out of the Tahoe.

We went on, figuring we couldn't help any more and that they'd just feel bad about holding us up. I called their son and let him know they were okay when we got back in cell range. He'd been talking to B when the tire blew and coffee flew.

We were very very pleased with our decision to have replaced our cracked trailer tires the weekend before the trip.



Broken RV Vista Point.

Manzanar Revisited - Saturday 9/22/2007

We went out to Manzanar National Historic Site (World War II internment camp) late Saturday, after the interpretive center had closed. If you've followed the blog, you know we've been here before.

I don't know why we're so drawn to it. Maybe it's just the idea that 10,000 people lived here in barracks like these for a couple of years while their businesses languished and their former communities moved on without them.

Maybe it's also partly that when we first visited about 10 years ago, there was just a little sheet of paper noting various landmarks you could pick out, but which weren't very well marked. Now there's a wonderful interpretive center, a reconstructed guard tower (important, because there was actually a book available at the Lone Pine Drug Store that denied that anyone was kept here against their will or that there were even guard towers,) and signs that they are working to restore some of the water gardens created by the people who lived here.



We've been visiting this spot for years. Last year there was no sidewalk and some of the deepest pool was filled with dirt. I climbed all around it, because I suspect that by next time this will be fenced off. It looks like they're going to move the barracks over here, too, because there were unearthed (or recreated?) blocks of foundation concrete on either side.



Looking south past monument at the graveyard. Most of the bodies were moved to other locations when the camp was closed.


One of the interesting tributes left on the monument.



The grave marker of Baby Jerry Ogata.

Here's a link to the photos Ansel Adams took there, courtesy of the Library of Congress.