Letter From LA: August-September

 Belated Happy New Year and Yom Kippur to my Jewish (and gentile) friends:


Sounding the horn at the Jewish new year service. Engraving with etching by B. Picart, ca. 1733.


It’s been a very mellow summer in Los Angeles. The weather these past few weeks has been delightful — no major heat waves, with temperatures ranging in the mid-70s to mid-80s. And cool breezes at night. There have been no major wildfires in Southern California, though a few have come close. The city has opened up despite the Delta Variant. There’s rampant homelessness and crime, redevelopment and corruption but, hey, that’s life in the big city. Read on.

 


 

Lately I’ve been having some very vivid dreams. Unlike the dreams of my youth, which were pretty simple, these involve complex story lines and are almost cinematic. When I was young, I had  run-of-the-mill, recurring “frustration” and “anxiety” dreams — you’re running down the halls of a school, late, looking for a class you can’t find; you’re being chased by a “monster from outer space” who’s demolished the city; you’re running from a gigantic wave that’s just about to crash down on you; you can’t find your car in an endless parking lot; you’re trying to navigate the streets of a city but keep losing your way; you’re naked. My favorite was the “flying” dream. I’d be walking down the street with some school friends and all of a sudden I’d jump into the air and float above the trees and telephone poles — it was more like jumping and coasting because I couldn’t sustain the “flying” for very long. Though dream interpreters feel that, in almost every culture, flying dreams represent freedom or a release from daily pressures, I always felt this was a dream in which I wanted to “impress” my friends.

But my “mature” dreams, though more complex, still probably reflect the frustrations and anxieties of everyday life. In one I’m wandering though the streets of the Hollywood Hills in the past and the present all at once. Sometimes the streets and hills are all dirt and they don’t match the way they are now; sometimes there are buildings under construction; other times there are apartments and homes; there are straight streets where now there are streets that curve off at odd angles; there are hills now where there were none in my past; all these presented in flashbacks and jump cuts. I drive or walk but have no recollection of what I am doing.

Freud believed that dreams allowed people to express unconscious wishes they find unacceptable in real life; Jung believed that dreams may contain ineluctable truths, philosophical pronouncements, illusions, wild fantasies, memories, plans, irrational experiences and even telepathic visions; modern dream researchers consider dreaming to be a cognitive process, simply a thought or sequence of thoughts, and that dream images are visual representations of personal conceptions of situations occurring in one’s life.

So here are some more of my dreams with a nod to Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream and his Talkin’ World War III Blues.

I’m trying to get a card at a retail store (a Staples or a Circuit City) and also want to get a locker with them. I want to be able to get into the locker after the store closes but no one can give me any information so I wander from the back of the store to the front, where there is an employee on the street selling the cards. I feel that I should buy the card from him but once again I can’t get any information so I wander back and forth.

At a magazine I work at I’ve just come in from somewhere and there are new people working there but I know them — though I don’t — and the advertising salesman is having trouble selling ads because of the pandemic. I’m talking to some rock musician from a band I can’t remember the name of and I tell him that despite the pandemic people are going to start going back to the movies and I cite a crummy movie (“Ava”) that despite it’s poor reviews has grossed a lot of money in four weeks and how that portends well for the business. And I look in the mirror and see that I’m naked from the waist up.

I’m having problems navigating a big building that’s built like a gigantic mutli-story school building or hotel with restaurants and gyms and a forest and a big basement. And I can’t take the elevators and so I try to find the stairwells up or down but they’re hidden all over the place and they invariably lead to the wrong floors. Alternately, I’m trying to take elevators to the top of the building, where there is a gigantic outdoors area, but the elevators start and stop with me in them and I go from one to the other to try to get where I’m going but to no avail. Sometimes I get stuck, sometimes not.

Sometimes I have a sleepless night and I listen to the Classic Radio Channel on my home Sirius XM device; in the wee hours of the morning they play old cops and gangsters radio shows (Dragnet, The Lineup, Mr. District Attorney). Invariably, I have dreams about gangsters and cops and robbers. Sometimes, even without listening to the radio, I have gangster dreams.

Lately I’ve been dreaming about my dreams. And when I have a dream I don’t like, I wake up and send myself back into the dream to get rid of it; my DreamChaser chases away the dream so I don’t have it anymore.

How are things in your dreams?

 


 

“There’s a sucker born every minute”

A poll by the nonpartisan Public Religion Research Institute last May found that 15 percent of Americans believe there is a cabal of liberal elites who worship Satan and traffic children for sex and blood. This is QAnon’s core tenet; those in the movement believe Donald J. Trump is battling the cabal, which, depending on whom you ask, may or may not comprise members of a reptilian alien race disguised as humans. Many followers also embrace conspiracy theories about COVID-19, Black Lives Matter, vaccines and the death of John F. Kennedy Jr.

An Economist/YouGov survey conducted last July 10-13 found that 15 percent of respondents said it was “probably true” that COVID-19 vaccines contain microchips so that the government can track them.

A YouGov survey of more than 8,000 American adults in 2019 suggested hat as many as one in six Americans are not entirely certain the world is round, while a 2019 Datafolha Institute survey of more than 2,000 Brazilian adults indicated that 7% of people in that country reject that concept.

 


 

Last month granddaughter Dahlia — six — spent a week in Los Angeles, staying at Marilyn’s house. It was a great week, with highlights being a visit to Color Me Mine, Chinatown and the California Science Center. Every day was an arts & crafts day. It was a wonderful week, especially since we infrequently get to see her and her parents and siblings.

One afternoon, while driving on Highland Ave. in Hollywood, traffic going in the opposite direction was jammed. Dahlia, in a playful mood, started chanting “Hah, hah, you’re stuck in traffic and we’re not.”  There’s no traffic in Lake Isabella, where she lives. And she marvelled at so many homeless people: “We only have one at home.”

I can, of course, remember a time when there was very little traffic, and the homeless were called “bums” who lived on Skid Row downtown. For some reason this put me into a Calvinistic mood, and I got to wondering if we were somehow being punished for living la buena vida in Los Angeles, for years of ignoring the damages that “progress” has brought about. Los Angeles was once a land of milk and honey, with wide-open possibilities for good living, a place were GIs returning from WWII could settle and build a great middle-class life. But the city has been besmirched by racism, unbridled overdevelopment, corruption, and congestion. The smog of the 1950s and 1960s is gone but our hearts are clouded with dread. Once you could drive to the beaches on a whim to play in the surf and sun and sand — now it’s a torturous journey that ends up on a beach destroyed by homeless encampments. Freeway underpasses and many major streets are also overrun with trash-ridden encampments; crazies wander around screaming at themselves in schizophrenic fits; and crime has been on the upswing. Killings began to surge in Los Angeles after the onset of the pandemic (with similar trends in other cities across the country). Last year, Los Angeles recorded a total of 347 homicides, a 36% jump over the level in 2019, and the first time in more than a decade that the annual figure had surpassed 300. The period from Jan. 1-June 30 was the deadliest first six months of the year since at least 2010; so far in 2021, 445 people have been shot, compared to 257 people this time last year. Though overall property crime has decreased, attacks on persons have increased: this July brought a spike in aggravated assaults, with 1,299 incidents being the highest number since at least 2010, and a 17.1 percent increase over the same month last year. Additionally, the city has experienced a 20 percent increase in motor vehicle thefts this year.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a vibrancy here, with an incredible variety of foods and museums and events and movies (except for the world-famous Arclight Hollywood and the Cinerama Dome, which Pacific Theatres has not re-opened since the end of lockdown). But, like the structure of the entertainment industry that has undergone drastic revisions in the last decade (MGM, Fox gone, Paramount threatened), LA’s structure has been revised. The city has always been a speculator and a charlatan’s haven, but now the redevelopment moguls have the city in the palm of their hands like never before. Last year an investigation into corruption allegations against Los Angeles city councilman Jose Huizar brought to light a multimillion-dollar bribery scheme involving several developers who sought the politician’s backing for lucrative property deals; he was  charged with accepting at least $1.5 million in bribes and indicted by a federal grand jury on 34 felony counts. Former Los Angeles Deputy Mayor Raymond Chan and four real-estate developers have also been charged.


Right now, in Hollywood alone, there are more than 30 redevelopment projects underway, in the works, or completed (at the intersection of Cahuenga Blvd & De Longpre Ave., three gigantic new structures have been built — high-end apartments, a hotel and an office building). Many of these are hotels or mixed-use facilities that tower over old Hollywood and obscure the hills and the Hollywood sign; much needed affordable housing is an after-thought. Even when the city mandates that developers provide a percentage of affordable units in high-rise, trendy and expensive apartment buildings, the developers know how to skirt the rules (or avoid them). For example, two long blocks of businesses on Sunset Blvd. (between Gardner and Stanley in Hollywood) was razed for something called the 7500-7550 Sunset project, which was approved by the city council to consist of two buildings with a total of 200 multi-family residential units, including 8 and 12 very low income units and approximately 30,000 square feet of ground floor commercial retail and restaurant space. But a glance at the developer’s web site shows that “7500 Sunset Boulevard is a new condo development” with 213 units. No affordable housing here in a city were housing is an expensive premium. When I contacted my local councilmember about this, one of her field deputies responses was “Interesting … I will share with Planning!” Nothing more from her.

City Hall has always pretty much abandoned Los Angeles to the developers — the history of the city is rife with land scandals, racially discriminatory covenants (homes in some communities could not be sold, resold or used by “non-whites”) and “land syndicates” (The Los Angeles Times dynasty the Chandlers, Southern Pacific Railroad’s Henry Huntington, Wells Fargo’s Isaias W. Hellman and other prominent LA tycoons joined in syndicates to monopolize development and subdivisions of Hollywood and the San Fernando Valley in the 1900s-1920s). But today it has gotten out of control.

For more info on how Los Angles has been exploited by big business and land developers, read “Los Angeles: Ecology of Evil,” by Peter Plagens (Art Forum 11.4, December 1972, 67–76) and “City of Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles” by Mike Davis (1990, Verso). For a rundown of development projects in Hollywood, see https://la.curbed.com/maps/hollywood-development-hotels-apartments-construction; it’s two years old but pretty comprehensive.

 


 

I read the news today, oh boy:

According to Jill Lapore, writing in The New Yorker, July 26, 2021, more than half of all Americans get their news from social media. What’s worse is that studies have consistently shown that the more time people spend on Facebook the worse their mental health becomes; Facebooking is also correlated with “increased sedentariness, a diminishment of meaningful face-to-face relationships, and a decline in real-world social activities.”


Posted on September 27, 2021
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Rolling Stones’ Charlie Watts dies at 80

From Bill Mohr’s Koan Kinship blog:

The Rolling Stones were founded almost sixty years ago by Brian Jones, Keith Richards, Mick Jagger, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, and Ian Stewart. Stewart was soon relegated to being their road manager and an occasional sessions musician. The news is breaking that Charlie Watts died in a London hospital earlier today. The original band now has only Richards and Jagger as the remaining members of the band.

Watts’s original musical interest was jazz, and in the 1990s he used the money he made from drumming with the Rolling Stones to form a jazz orchestra. His interest in jazz was long known: his drawings on the back of the album cover of Between the Buttons were the first clue to the breadth of his musical preferences.

Watts’s choices in percussion made significant contributions to the distinctive sound of his bandmates. One only has to listen to the inexhaustible resonance of “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” to hear how Watts’s brief but propulsive solo interlude makes all the difference in how that “Hey Hey Hey” chorus churns the song headlong into the next full verse. Rae Armantrout has written about how much of an impact that song had on her as a young person living in San Diego in the summer of 1965, and I can vouch that it had an equal impact on me in Imperial Beach, when that tiny, working-class city had yet to be cut in half by an annexation to San Diego.

In a recent interview, Watts talked about his refusal to get a “smart” phone and how his steadfast allegiance to a flip phone irritated Jagger because the band’s lead singer and songwriting collaborator wasn’t able to send Watts documents and drawings for immediate approval. For someone still using a flip phone at that point, I felt as if my obstinacy had received a major social endorsement. Thank you, Charlie, for one last gift!

The Stones are set to go on tour, but I suspect that it will be a more melancholy event than even the remaining members of the band anticipate.

R.I.P. Charlie Watts (1941-2021)


Posted on August 24, 2021
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Letter From LA: May-June

Los Angeles (and, for that matter, all of California) opened wide June 15 and it was, in some quarters, as if COVID-19 never existed. Sporting events, concerts and raves are back on schedule; bars and restaurants were turning away customers — not because they were enforcing a “no-mask no entry” rule but because they were swamped with clientele. If you ever wanted a low-paying restaurant or retail service job, now is the time — all sorts of establishments lost their help over a year ago and were now scrambling to hire new employees.

Just as the tourists and Los Angelinos have returned to the once-empty streets, so too have the insane drivers. LA drivers have always been a mapcap lot — with lowriders, gigantic Humvees, Cadillac Escalades and party buses jostling each other for space on the streets of Hollywood, West LA and Santa Monica. Not to mention the blaring stereos and subwoofers shattering upper decibel levels. But now there’s a new craziness, adapted from the just-passed COVID era. It seemed that the empty streets from March 2000 to March 2021 fostered a daredevil impulse in LA drivers, who took advantage of empty streets and synchronized traffic lights to drive amazingly fast down deserted thoroughfares. Now, with the streets filling with cars again, these drivers have yet to lower their velocity, zigging and zagging in and out of traffic to keep their momentum going. Abrupt U-turns, right turns from center lanes, tailgating, running red lights, fast acceleration with just as fast sudden stops. Its enough to make me want to keep my high-beams on all the time (another new, annoying LA trait). But, fear not. We may yet encounter empty streets again. The Delta COVID variant has reached us and LA County health officials recommend wearing masks indoors again, whether or not you have been vaccinated. Since June 15, cases and hospitalizations have alarmingly been on the rise. Still, 99 percent of those cases were people who were not vaccinated. Almost 70 percent of the population has been vaccinated but 30 percent are still out there, possibly spreading the disease. A British study last month found the Pfizer vaccine is 88 percent effective against the variant after two doses, meaning that even those vaccinated can be at risk, though slightly. Stay safe.

 


 

One of he benefits of the COVID lockdown was an uptick in pizza sales. Everybody loves pizza  (Well, not everybody. My father hated pizza — I don’t exactly know why — I think it was because he disliked mixing foods together — no peas in his mashed potatoes, no nuts in his cakes — and a pizza is, basically, mixing meat and/or vegetables with cheese and tomato sauce and bread — not for my Dad, I guess. He preferred his meats separate — he had a Saturday night tradition of deli platters with salami, corned beef and pastrami — all separate, of course) and COVID has been good to pizza lovers. Not only did take-out pizza sales surge — according to Restaurant Dive, major pizza chains saw significant sales gains during the pandemic — but frozen pizza sales have jumped: In March, 2020, Americans bought $275 million worth of frozen pizzas, which was a 92% increase over the same period a year earlier, according to data analytics firm IRI. And according to Ad Age, frozen pizza has been a “go-to item” during COVID. Dollar sales across the category jumped 18.1% to $5.94 billion in the 52 weeks ended Oct. 4 (overall, frozen food sales gained 17.4% last year).

Accordingly, the ranks of frozen pizzas at supermarkets swelled. Before COVID you could count on two hands the number of different pizza brands; now there are literary dozens of pizza manufacturers offering vegetarian, vegan, artisan, authentic, gourmet and upscale frozen pizzas. You can add a host of such pizzas to the old-standby list of supermarket pizzas by Totinos (the first frozen pizza company, created by Rose and Jim Totino in 1962 and sold to Pillsbury Company in 1975 for $22 million), DiGiorno, Celeste, Tony’s, Red Baron, California Pizza Kitchen, Newman’s Own, Tombstone, Screamin’ Sicilian  and Freschetta. There include Amy’s Margherita Pizza, Caulipower Veggie Pizza, Real Good Foods Cauliflower Crust Margherita Pizza, Alex’s Awesome Sourdough Pizza, OH Yes! Personal Pizza, Sweet Earth Veggie Lover’s Pizza, Cali’flour Foods, Cappello’s Grain-Free Almond Flour Cheese Pizza, Daily Harvest Flatbread, Banza Plain Crust Pizza, Alpha Foods Pizza, Chloe Delectably Vegan Cheese Pizza,  American Flatbread Classic, Connie’s and CLO-CLO Vegan Foods. Some of these brands have been around for awhile but are now just making it to our local frozen pizza shelves. The latest pizza fad — vegan and plant-based pizzas — has certainly accelerated thanks to COVID. Sure beats the day when the only pizza in town was available at the Piece o’ Pizza restaurant on Pico Blvd. near Veteran Avenue. Bon appetit!

 


 

I spent a great deal of time in May and June digitizing two issues of InterMedia Magazine to post at my website, InterMediaMagazine.com. Many of you might not know it, but in the late 1970s I published and edited InterMedia, an alternative art magazine that highlighted photography, conceptual art, mail art and literature. The first three issues were in a magazine format; the fourth was a tabloid newspaper of fiction and poetry; the fifth (called Entropy) a compendium of artist-designed posters; the sixth a box containing unbound artist-designed postcards, broadsides, folders, and posters; and the seventh, and last issue, a newsprint magazine of some 100 pages containing art, poetry and fiction, many of an experimental nature. InterMedia got its genesis while I was affiliated with the Century City Educational Arts Project in West Los Angeles in the early 70s, a performance space that included a theatre company, Jazz jams, underground films and poetry readings. It was there that I met Bill Mohr, who, through the arts project, founded Momentum Press. Bill and Momentum published Momentum Magazine on a regular basis as well as publishing works of some of the best poets then living in Southern California; his two anthologies, “The Streets Inside: Ten Los Angeles Poets” and “Poetry Loves Poetry” pretty much encapsulated the extant poetry scene in Los Angeles in the 1960s through the 1970s; Bill also authored “Holdouts: The Los Angeles Poetry Renaissance 1948-1992,” a critical history of the often ignored or misunderstood post-war L.A. poetry scene. Bill was an invaluable resource when putting together InterMedia. Through InterMedia I linked up with an international group of mail and performance artists, many of whom lived in San Francisco. I eventually moved to SF to take part in the burgeoning conceptual art scene there, and occasionally joined in with the Bay Area Dadaists; one of the members was Anna Banana, a Canadian ex-pat who published “Banana Rag” and “Vile” magazine (a combination of art, poetry, fiction, letters, photos and manipulated advertisements), and was active on the international mail art scene. She was also responsible for making me one of the New Dada Brothers (that’s me on the post card with Bill Gaglione, Anna’s SF boyfriend).

After returning to Canada in 1981, she pioneered the artistamp, a postage-stamp-sized medium of artists’ works. You can visit InterMediaMagazine.com, which documents my years in the art world as well as presenting Issue #5 and Issue #7 of InterMedia. There’s links there for Bill and Anna. Bill, by the way, is a tenured professor in the Department of English at California State University, Long Beach, and still writes and publishes poetry. Anna just recently retired after some 50 years in the art world and is currently putting together her magnum opus, the Encyclopedia Bananica. I admire them both.

 


 

About three years ago — pre-Pandemic — I was at a gas station in Beverly Hills and spotted what I thought was so antithetical to automobile reality that I couldn’t believe my eyes — a Lamborghini S.U.V. I rubbed my eyes and opened them again and the Lamborghini was still there — pasty white and shiny, sucking gasoline like the mere common brethren surrounding it (ever see Ferraris or Lamborghinis at gas stations? No, these cars lead pampered lives and, one can surmise, fuel up at special gas depots only the rich have access to). Lamborghinis are super expensive, elite sports cars and an S.U.V. version just shouldn’t exits. I’ve never seen one since — until last week, driving down Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood. What I had thought was an anomaly or a dream was s reality. What I was seeing was the Italian sports car maker’s entry into the super-lucrative S.U.V. market, where profit margins are double that of modest sedans and luxury cars. The Lamborghini Urus (the name comes from the ancestor of modern domestic cattle, Urus) was unveiled in December 2017 and has a starting sticker price of $218,000. According to ChannelNewsAsia, “From a purist’s point of view, there’s no reason for the Lamborghini Urus to exist. A Lamborghini that’s over 1.3m tall is an affront at best and an abomination at worst. Then again, there will be some from the fringes of that puritan segment who will argue that any Lamborghini with a door count greater than two is blasphemy.” But purists be damned: the Urus now accounts for over 60 percent of the company’s sales volume. Which is great news for Volkswagen, which currently holds a majority share in Audi, Scania and Porsche, and also wholly owns Skoda Auto, Lamborghini, and Ducati. Get the picture? Porsche started the high-end sports car-marquee S.U.V. market in 2002 with its Cayenne which, along with its baby brother, the Macan, has boosted the company’s bottom line. For Lamborghini, profits from the Urus will, according to CEO Stephan Winkelmann, be ploughed back into their iconic two-seaters, currently consisting of the Aventador and the Huracán. But wait, there’s more — hold onto to your seat belts. According to Car & Driver magazine, “We never thought we’d see the day where a Ferrari S.U.V. became a reality, but in the wake of successful high-dollar, high-performance sport-utes, the stage is set for the 2022 Ferrari Purosangue” with prices that could start as high as $350,000. The times they are a-changin.

Til next time,

Harley


Posted on July 17, 2021
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Letter From LA: April

April is the first month of spring (in the Northern Hemisphere; down under it’s autumn). Generally it’s tax time and the annual return of the Lyrids meteor showers. It’s also Financial Literacy Month, National Poetry Writing Month, National Grilled Cheese Month and Mathematics and Statistics Awareness Month. This year, April began with the birth of my third grandchild, Foster, a seven-and-a-half-pound boy, who joins Dahlia (six years old) and Sawyer (three). Foster had a little bit of jaundice (common, I’ve been told) but is home now and is thriving. They live with mommie Elizabeth (our daughter) and daddy Alex in the city of Lake Isabella (population 3,466, in the southern Sierra Nevada, in Kern County, California, just adjacent to the Lake Isabella reservoir, which was created in 1953 by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers). The area is a destination for hikers, boaters, water skiers, fishermen, birders, hunters, wind surfers, kayakers, and even white water rafters, since the dam sits at the foot of the wild North and South Forks of the Kern River; it’s also home to these three beautiful kids.

Letter From LA April



 

April was a busy month for me; several websites that I run (and host for friends) got hit by nefarious malware, which wreaked havoc with the blogs by embedding viruses on some pages, and by altering search engine results (Google would redirect visitors to foreign websites selling mail order Cialis and Viagra; for my technical friends, this is called “Spammy SEO Keywords”). One site, LAPotholes.com, was hit so hard that I couldn’t even log in to my administration dashboard to try to sort things out. I finally bought a suite of powerful anti-malware programs that allowed me — after considerable work — to sort things out. This took up a lot of my time, which is why it’s been a month since my last Letter.

 


 

Although the curse of COVID-19 still lingers around the world, Los Angeles — like much of California — has opened up. That means that bars, restaurants, massage parlors, amusement parks and gyms are open again, and the streets are filling up with people and cars. In Hollywood, that means that tourists, partygoers, bar-hoppers, exhibitionists, the homeless and the crazies have taken over the sidewalks and intersections. Several years ago the city decided to turn the intersection of Hollywood and Highland (where the Dolby Theatre and the Acadamey Awards normally exist) and the intersection of Hollywood and Vine (near the legit Pantages Theatre) into scramble crosswalks — allowing pedestrians to cross in any direction (Westwood, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills have had such intersections for years). This also means that there are no right turns on a red light, putting an end to one of the hallmarks of Western Civilization. If you happen to get stuck at one of those red lights and have to wait for pedestrians to cross in five directions, you might as well bring a book or listen to a symphony on your radio … or people-watch during the interminable wait for a green light. On one recent Saturday evening, all four corners of the Hollywood-Highland intersection was alive with the flora and fauna of Hollywood night life. On the Dolby theatre side of the street, a tall, wiry young man had set up a boom box and was wildly free-form dancing to loud hip-hop music (actually, he had long-dominated this corner for almost a year, dancing his head off even during deserted weekends). Not to be outdone, across the street in the shadow of the Hollywood First National Bank building (built in 1927 and vacant since December 2011) a group of eight or nine young men had set up a table loaded down with speakers and amplifiers; they were playing hip-hop and trap beats and dancing the Afl and the Roller Skate. On the SouthEast corner of the intersection a bearded young man’s sign asked us to repent and, across the street on the Southwest side, another man was selling tickets for one of Hollywood’s many bus tours (there’s more than a dozen companies offering bus tours of Hollywood). Later this year, as more and more tourists arrive, the free-form dancer and the hip-hoppers will be replaced by hordes of comic book superheroes (Iron Man, Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, Captain America) jostling for tips from camera-wielding tourists; more sophisticated teams of break dancers and street performers will show up angling for tips. Where are the Hare Krishnas when we need them?

Letter from LA April


 


 

I read the news today, oh boy:

Several news outlets in LA have reported that violent crimes were up in April, but property crime was down. Killings began to surge in Los Angeles after the onset of the pandemic — similar trends were reported in other cities across the country. In 2020, Los Angeles recorded 347 homicides, a 36% jump over 2019, and the first time in more than a decade that the annual figure had surpassed 300. (Last year, murders in Los Angeles County spiked nearly 200%). In Los Angeles City proper, according to police chief Michel Moore, the number of people shot in 2021 so far has increased 73% compared to this time last year: 445 compared to 257. Additionally, the city has experienced a 20% increase in motor vehicle thefts this year. Moore added that property crime has decreased by 2,725 incidents compared to this time last year, with decreases in residential and commercial burglaries, theft from vehicles and personal thefts. As a reference point, murders across the United States rose an estimated 25% in 2020, according to preliminary data from the FBI, the largest increase since modern crime statistics have been compiled. Is there a connection between staying at home during a pandemic and killings? One factor: boredom and social displacement, unemployment and a bad economy can make people more desperate and cause them to turn on each other. So, with the pandemic slowing down, and the streets again flooding with people, we can only look forward to more property crime and fewer bodily injuries.

 


 

My apartment is right across the street from the Gardner Street Elementary School in west Hollywood (not West Hollywood) and now that the schools in LA have reopened, I again get to hear the sounds of children playing, laughing, screaming. One of the greatest soundscapes in the world.

Til next time,

Harley


Posted on May 16, 2021
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Letter From LA: 04-01-2021

Bob Dylan turns 80 on May 14, 2021, and in honor of this anniversary, I’ve decided to listen to every Dylan album I can get my hands on (I have about 25 on CD and vinyl; the rest I’ll listen to via Amazon Music Unlimited); watch every documentary and feature I can get access to (“Don’t Look Back,” “I’m Not There,” “No Direction Home,” “Rolling Thunder Revue”), and read — or re-read — as much as I can (“POSITIVELY 4th Street,” “Chronicles, Volume One,” “Another Side of Bob Dylan: A Personal History on the Road and off the Tracks,” “Why Dylan Matters”). Dylan is the true king of rock and pop (roll over Elvis, tell Michael the news) both in his music, his influence on pop culture … and his staying power. What set me off was reading Nat Hentoff’s New Yorker article “The Crackin’, Shakin’, Breakin’ Sounds” from Oct. 24, 1964 (anthologized in “The 60s: The Story of a Decade”) in which he followed Dylan as he recorded his fourth album. Dylan is a true American mythmaker, and it really comes out in this article — you just don’t know what’s true and what’s made up. By the way, other 80th birthdays this year: Ringo Starr, Tom Jones, Al Pacino, Neil Diamond, Dionne Warwick, Nancy Sinatra, Martin Sheen, Raquel Welch, Nick Nolte, James Brolin, Faye Dunaway, Joan Baez, Herbie Hancock, Sam Waterston, and Bill Medley.

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I read the news today, oh boy:

CBSN and the Los Angeles Times summed up recently what many scientists have been talking about for months: The long-term effects of COVID-19 that some people experience. These include: fatigue, shortness of breath, cough, joint pain, chest pain, muscle pain, headache, intermittent fever, fast-beating or pounding heart (also known as heart palpitations), rashes, hair loss, smell and taste problems, sleep issues. On the psychological front, many people who have recovered from COVID-19 have reported feeling not like themselves: experiencing short-term memory loss, difficulty with thinking, confusion, an inability to concentrate, and just feeling differently (sometimes referred to as “brain fog”). That sounds like some Republicans I know.

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I usually don’t take afternoon naps, but for some reason today, while watching my latest go-to-streaming-series-so-as-not-to-think, the French “Profilage” (translated as “Profiling” but called “The Paris Murders” on Amazon Prime), I dozed off on the living room couch. I dreamt about several of my dead friends: Jim, Mark and Rusty.

The summer after we graduated from high school, Jim and I would cruise around town looking to meet girls. We still dated girls from high school — in fact, once we double-dated with two of the most beautiful girls from our graduating class but, as if in a JD Salinger story — we got too drunk and threw up. But the prospects of “more mature” women tantalized us, and we drove wherever rumors hinted at wayward women and easy girls. We drove as far as Lake Piru in the hopes of scoring. But we always came home alone.

I met Mark and Rusty at Santa Monica City College (now just Santa Monica College) after I flunked out of UCLA. Mark was six-feet-tall, red-headed with freckles, and walked around wearing an Abe Lincoln stovepipe hat; he was an impressive sight to see. Mark was a true 1960s outlier: he was a political humanist and about as anti-authoritarian as anyone I knew in that era, but was also intellectually inquisitive and emotionally warm. Days at SMCC we organized a Students for a Democratic Society chapter; nights we got stoned and would drive to the Kaleidoscope (which eventually became the Aquarius Theatre and then the home to Nickelodeon) in Hollywood, where we saw Iron Butterfly, Canned Heat, The Fugs, Moby Grape and Rhinoceros among other archetypal 1960s acts. We tried to change the world and succeeded.


I met Rusty while at SMCC; he kind of hung around with some of the SDS students but politics was not his forte; he was immersed in the conspiracies surrounding the JFK assassination. Rusty hailed from Texas and had met and befriended Penn Jones Jr., editor of the Midlothian (Texas) Mirror and author of one of the original Kennedy conspiracy bibles, “Forgive My Grief.” His family had money — his dad was an executive with Ronson Corp. and they had a comfortable home on a tree-lined street north of Montana Avenue in Santa Monica — but I remember Rusty as the prototype 1960s hippie — pot, sex, psychedelics. Rusty taught me the joys of sitting in the front seat of a car on a sun-bright street on a warm summer day, swigging RC Cola and chain-smoking cigarettes. There’s really nothing quite like that high. Rusty later traveled across the US in the 1970s with a slide show on the JFK assassination and became quite a celebrity on college campuses. RC Cola is not that easy to find in LA, but when I do, I’m tempted to buy a bottle in honor of Rusty.

Try as I might, I just couldn’t remember any of the particulars of my dream. But it sure was good to see my old friends again.

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I read the news today, oh boy, part 2:

Georgia GOP Gov. Brian Kemp. and the Republican-led Georgia state legislature pushed through a strict new voting rights law last week that makes it tougher to cast votes — as a response to a surge in Democratic votes and the election of two Democratic senators last November and January. The voting system in Georgia was AOK when Trump was elected in 2016 — why change it now? To make it harder for people of color in under-served areas, who vote Democratic, to use absentee or mail-in ballots to cast their votes. The law makes it harder to use mail-in ballots, limits the number of ballot drop box locations, and makes it a crime to offer food or water to voters waiting in lines.

Several corporations based in Atlanta — including Delta, Porsche, Home Depot and Coca-Cola, —  some that have supported Kemp and Republicans in the past — have criticized Georgia’s new law … but are keeping quiet on whether they will continue making donations to Republicans who support the law. Additionally, Major League Baseball is considering moving this year’s All-Star Game out of Atlanta to a different location.

Other states also have restrictive voting legislation in the pipeline, including Arizona, Florida and Texas; Iowa has already passed one. Their motto: “Welcome back Jim Crow.”

04-01-2021


Posted on April 3, 2021
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