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This week's blog is Franklin Avenue. Its owners, Mike and Maria, keep their readers abreast of all things Los Angeles. A must-read for every Angeleno.
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 10:59 PM
1 comments
Sure, I was teased a lot, but not more than other people. At every school, there are a handful of people who become "outcasts," targets for the collective scorn of the entire student body, and I was never one of those. For the most part, I flew "under the radar," and while I always had a handful of close friends, I was anything but "popular." I saw myself as something of an "outsider" and didn't feel like I "belonged." I certainly didn't feel attractive to the opposite sex, which began to become a concern for me around this time.
But then, a month before school started, my mom dropped a bomb on all my plans, "You aren't going to high school, you are going to be homeschooled now." She told me, and I was crushed. I got so much academic recognition at school, and I was finally growing out of my awkward stage...I started to see myself as a nobody. I wasn't smart. The public school system only made me think that I was smart because I played within the system. It didn't matter if I was finally cute, either, because no one would ever see me and I would never have a cute boyfriend.
I didn't have any reason to think that going to high school would change how I saw myself. I was planning to go to McClintock High, only a few blocks from where I went to elementary school and junior high, and I'd continue to have many of the same classmates. I didn't view high school as a place to "reinvent myself." In fact, I remained convinced that childhood was relatively meaningless and just a hurdle for me to get over on my way to becoming an adult; I still had my "eyes on the prize," becoming someone important, eventually doing great things. My mentality at the time is demonstrated well by what I wrote on the eighth grade's "signature page," published in every single copy of the 1993 Connolly Middle School yearbook:
"One day I will employ you all!" -- Oh, the arrogance! But it was good-natured arrogance in the sense I was telling my classmates, yes, you may have teased me because I have messed-up teeth and kinky hair, but I'm going to be "somebody," you'll see!
Like Marrie, I had a curve ball thrown at me, but I was better prepared for it. In the eighth grade, my mom was insistent that I apply to Brophy College Preparatory and attend high school there if accepted. Nothing about Brophy appealed to me: it was a private school, it was a Catholic school (Jesuit), it wasn't co-ed (guys only), it was in Uptown Phoenix, over 10 miles from home, and none of my few friends were considering attending. However, I understood that my mom realized Brophy would help me get where I wanted to be in life by presenting me with opportunities I wouldn't otherwise have. The public schools in Tempe weren't terrible, but I was open to the idea of challenging myself more intellectually.
I did end up enrolling at Brophy and began to see myself differently in that I was going to a prestigious private school...I was proud to have been accepted there. Brophy fed my ambitions far more than McClintock would have. However, the Brophy experience caused me to see myself differently in another way. I felt even more like an "outsider" because most of my classmates were far different from me: many of them had gone to private school their whole lives, were practicing Catholics, and most importantly, their parents were rich, or at least far better off financially than my mom was.
Bear in mind, my family was anything but "poor," I suppose you could say we were "lower-middle-class." The tuition at Brophy was somewhat expensive, but luckily the school was generous with financial aid to those who needed it. Part of my package was a "work study" allowance that entailed I work at the school. For most of my freshman year, I spent two hours each day after school assisting the janitorial staff. While I admire the "work ethic" this experience instilled in me, I was quite resentful that I had to clean classrooms after school when so few of my peers did. I began to see myself as "disadvantaged," and I became envious of my wealthier peers. This perception wasn't entirely negative, as it pushed me even harder to realize my potential.
So for a while I felt like nothing. I was ok looking, and ok intelligence wise, but the main thing I was, the main image I had when I called up myself in my mind, was lonely. Picture a girl locked up her room with a few Christian text books, and you get the picture. I only had friends because Liz introduced me to people she knew from school.
I felt just as alienated while attending Brophy as Marrie did while being home schooled. I just didn't fit in at Brophy and I didn't get involved with any extracirricular activities. I too saw myself as alone and lonely. I eventually fell in with a group of friends, something of a support network since all the guys in my "clique" didn't fit into the Brophy student body in one way or another...sadly, though, I was regarded as the "weirdest" and had to endure quite a bit of criticism and teasing even from them.
Since I didn't want to view myself through the prism of my academic life (though I excelled in my class work), I soon latched onto seeing myself through the prism of my professional life, i.e. my "job." Brophy encouraged its "work study" students to seek outside employment by vowing to match their paychecks "dollar for dollar" if they signed them over to the school. As a 14-year-old, outside employment wasn't an option, but after my freshman year I was 15 (old enough to legally work in Arizona) and I sought out a "summer job."
In June 1994, I was hired as a "Courtesy Clerk" at Smitty's #7 in Tempe. It was well known among Phoenix teens that Smitty's was the only supermarket chain that would consider hiring 15-year-olds due to the extra restrictions placed upon their duties and schedules by Arizona labor laws. I applied to the nearest Smitty's although it was three miles away from my house and I called every week thereafter begging the managers for a job. I think my persistence impressed the management, enabling me to begin an illustrious stint in the supermarket industry.
Although I was bagging groceries and retrieving carts from the parking lot (in 110 degree weather) and only making the minimum wage ($4.25), I loved working, and I loved working at Smitty's. I kept the job during my sophomore year at Brophy, though I only worked on the weekends.
The summer between my sophomore and junior years, I got a second job as a receptionist for Big Surf waterpark in Tempe. Between the two jobs, I was working 60-80 hours a week, and there were only a handful of days during that entire summer when I didn't work at either job (often, I worked at both). I was able to pay off my "work study" obligation for junior year before the summer was even over, garnering a letter of commendation from Brophy's financial aid staff! I had become a consumate "workaholic" because it felt so good to actually "do something" like a "real" adult -- I took my jobs seriously and saw value in the contributions I made. I stayed with Smitty's until I left for USC and also returned to Big Surf for several more summers.
The fact that I saw myself as a gainfully employed person more than as a high school student is well documented by the caption I wrote for my senior photo in the 1997 Brophy yearbook. Note that I list my jobs before the few extra-cirricular activities I was involved in:
Also of note in this caption: my question "Could I be the next Sam Walton?" Once a Wal-Mart freak, "Always" a Wal-Mart freak, right?
One of my friends was on the yearbook staff and he helped ensure my love for Smitty's was documented on the "Jobs" page of the 1997 yearbook as well:
By my senior year, I saw myself as a largely independent "adult," at long last. My mom explicitly told me she considered 17 to be the year I should obtain independence and she didn't impose curfews or otherwise infringe upon my freedom. I had saved enough money to buy myself a car at 16, and I was extremely proud of "The Dream Machine," my modest 1980 Honda Accord.
Having a car is pretty much a necessity for a teenager in Phoenix, and owning a vehicle saved me the two hour bus ride home from Brophy to Tempe and allowed me to work on weeknights as well. The symbolic importance of the car to me is demonstrated by an extremely unflattering photo of me draped across the hood of "The Dream Machine" that found its way into the 1997 yearbook. Yeah, I know you want to see it:
I think the "rich kid" mentality that permeated Brophy is expressed through the fake "quote" attributed to me. Sure, I owned a 17-year-old compact sedan, but it didn't break down "most of the time," in fact it was remarkably reliable. The fact of the matter was that this car was considered a "joke" compared to the exquisite classic cars, convertibles, and SUV's displayed elsewhere on the "Autos" page of the yearbook...but I bought it myself, it wasn't a gift from my wealthy mommy and daddy.
Of course, I probably saw myself as more important than I really was and that my accomplishments were far greater than what they really were. My best friend Michael, in the caption he wrote for his own senior photo, quoted "The Little Prince" when (somewhat righteously) taking me down a peg and (less righteously) mocking my hair style in one fell swoop: "MG-You are busy with matters of consequence! This makes you swell up with pride. But you are not a man, you are a MUSHROOM!"
So most of the guys that I dated were guys that she rejected first. I was a second class kinda girl. No one would want me first, but I was ok if the first choice wasn't available ...Then when I was 15 I met a boy who changed all that ... One of the members of the "new group" I was hanging out with introduced me to a boy named Caleb. Ahhh, Caleb. He was sooo handsome and perfect. I didn't even pay attention to him, I thought he was so out of my league. Then it turned out, he liked me. Imagine my surprise. I hadn't given him a second thought, because I was too realistic for something like that, and suddenly, he is breaking up with his girlfriend to date me ... I was so in love with him, and it turned out, he was so in love with me! He saw things in me that I didn't know where there ... Then his mom met me, and she said, "She's cute but she's no Christy," referring to the girl he broke up with to be with me. After that I was always comparing myself to Christy ... So for a while my image of myself was, "Ok, but not as good as someone else."Then one day I went to the Bon Marche to get some lipstick for prom. I had my makeup done and then I was walking through the mall to get to my car, and as I was walking I glanced in the mirrored wall beside me, and I saw a girl walking beside me, "Oh, what a pretty girl," I thought. Then I looked again and started laughing, because there was no girl walking beside me, the image I saw was of me. I had seen myself, and thinking I was someone else, I didn't judge myself and I thought I was a pretty girl. That was a nice confidence booster for me.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a female equivalent to "Caleb" in my high school days that encouraged me to begin seeing myself as "attractive." All through high school, I remained convinced that I was quite unattractive -- even though my braces came off a couple months before senior year started, revealing a much nicer smile, I was very skinny (5'8" 120 lbs.!) and still self-concious about my unruly locks. Furthermore, I didn't play sports, I wasn't in a band, I didn't think I had much to offer at all. Geez, I spent my spare time bagging groceries at Smitty's and reading books about Sam Walton! I didn't go to either of my "proms," but I did go to one formal dance with a girl who seemed to like me but ended up treating me horribly.
I often joke that going to an all-boys school for four years stunted my "social development," especially with regard to women and dating. This is somewhat true, though, since I had a hard time meeting girls during high school -- I was unbearably shy and self-concious in those days, leaving me without a modicum of self-confidence. My perception of myself as unattractive, coupled with my shyness and lack of self-confidence, led me into a vicious cycle when it comes to dating that I've never fully escaped.
When I got to college, I had far more opportunities to interact with girls and was shocked when I realized girls were flirting with me. I finally ditched my "mushroom" hair-do and grew long sideburns that complemented my face. Towards the end of my freshman year at USC, I could finally look in the mirror and consider myself attractive -- not a "dreamboat," but better looking than many other guys!
I've often found myself falling into the trap that Marrie described: not feeling "worthy" of a person of the opposite sex. During college and even afterwards, I found myself sliding into deep "schoolboy" crushes wherein I put the girl on such a pedestal that I couldn't so much as say "hi" to her without getting unbearably nervous. Of course, most girls picked up on my self-doubt and the resultant nervous energy and found it awkward and unattractive. As you might expect, a lack of success in many dating endeavors only makes me see myself as even less appealing to women, another vicious cycle. I have only recently begun to learn that such a perception is warped and that I am indeed quite "worthy" of love and companionship. I am attempting to build the confidence I should've had years ago.
USC was a much more hospitable environment than Brophy in a lot of ways. I began to see myself less as an "outsider," especially once I began taking urban planning classes, which demonstrated I was not alone in my passion. The social landscape of the campus allowed for many more "nitches" than did Brophy, and I found myself interacting with a few different groups of people I felt comfortable with. Sadly, I didn't get involved in many extra-ciricular activities and still felt my job (assisting the accounting staff at USCard) was my main contribution to society. It wasn't until my senior year that I got more involved and really "hit my stride." In April 2001, only weeks before I graduated, I had my writing published in three student publications: the "Daily Trojan," the "Trojan Horse," and "Palaver," and all the positive feedback I recieved encouraged me to begin seeing myself as a writer.
In my college years, I did not see myself as an "academic," though I graduated as valedictorian for the Planning and Development undergrad class (before you get too impressed, bear in mind the class consisted of only about 15 people). I continued to see education merely as a means to an end -- in fact, it frustrated me because I percieved it as a form of "mental masturbation." I wasn't satisfied to write something or do a project just to have one person (a professor) look at it, put a letter on it, and give it back to me. I wanted my work to mean something more, and I had become very anxious to get into "the real world," where I felt I would find a greater sense of purpose. I declined the offer of an "accelerated program" that would have earned me a Master's in Planning and Development in only one additional year of college. Sometimes I question my logic at the time, but I don't regret my decision, I wanted to move on.
Once I started working for the County, I primarily saw myself as a professional urban planner. I thought I had finally realized my life's dream, that I had finally "made it." But I came to identify myself with my job so much that it became dangerous to my well-being. I didn't attempt to develop any new interests or hobbies and my life became "all cities, all the time." I had my sights set on a goal my entire life -- once I had largely accomplished that goal, I found myself lost.
The image of myself in my mind has changed many times over the course of the years, and even now it is always changing. I think that now I see myself as a mom/wife most of the time. Someone whose appearance really doesn't matter, someone whose intellect doesn't really matter, and it makes me a little sad.
In my view, Marrie is confining herself by seeing herself as "just" a "mom/wife" whose appearance and intellect "doesn't matter." Being a stay-at-hom mom/wife is a very difficult job -- more importantly, it's crucial that we see ourselves as more than just our professions.
Over the last year, the novelty of working as a professional planner had worn off and I couldn't get myself to see myself as anything more. By neglecting to develop new interests and hobbies, I didn't have anything else to look forward to besides work. My closest friends from USC had all moved away and I didn't make the necessary effort to bring new people into my life that would encourage me to try new things, move in different directions, and see myself in new and different ways. I became much more than "a little sad," I became devastatingly depressed. Many nights and weekends I'd just sit in my apartment, lamenting that I had "nothing to do" despite the fact that an exciting city with millions of people was right outside my door. I wasn't happy that I only had a handful of friends and I felt even more isolated and lonely than I did during my high school days. I embraced a mindset that was self-destructive.
As I've shared before, I was fortunate enough to work up the nerve to take a week-long vacation to the East Coast and visit some old friends last May...this trip proved to be a much-needed kick in the ass. I realized that I couldn't sit around and wait for a hero to arrive on a white horse and deliver me from my funk. I had to accept that I was the reason I was unhappy and that I was the only person who could effect the changes necessary to allow me to see myself as more than a "Zoning Cop." I knew it would be difficult to make changes, but I knew I had to try...otherwise I would continue to feel that my life had little meaning and that I didn't have anything to offer people beyond an ability to cite them for code violations.
(T)hat is one of the reasons why I write in my blog, I want to know that I still can write something, that I still have a brain that is useful for things other than thinking up a new way of getting my kids to do what I want without spanking them, or other things like that. Another reason I write is to feel understood. Most of the time I feel like I'm alone, like no one understands me, like the people who would listen to me if I tried to explain myself are too involved in the situation to really understand, because they'd hear me through their own filters.Whatever I think and do and feel impacts those people, and they can't get around that impact enough to really understand ME.
Marrie and I have both turned to blogging as a means to seeing ourselves in new ways. Marrie is an excellent writer, not nearly as long-winded as yours truly and far more thought-provoking. Our new-found hobby allows each of us to contribute something more to the world around us. Blogging has shown me that I should see myself as more than a "Zoning Cop," and I hope it has shown Marrie that she should see herself as more than a "mom/wife."
Such a big part of my recent funk was that I felt entirely alone. I've always been very different from other people, so these feelings never go away, but I was somewhat disappointed by my experiences in adulthood. I spent my youth idealizing what life would be like as an adult, naively believing that then people would finally understand and appreciate me. Being around other urban planners wasn't the liberating experience I envisioned -- (as you might expect) few others in planning school or at the Department were as nearly as passionate about (and obsessed with) cities, planning, and development as I was. In addition, for the most part I interact with people far older than me in my profession. I still have trouble relating to people in my age group, and they have trouble relating to me.
Like Marrie, I feel that when I try to "explain myself" to the people in my life, they hear it through their own filters and focus on the impact my thoughts and feelings have on them. I'm amazed that when I express myself through this blog, people I don't even know "get" me. I wasn't anticipating this, and I remain pleasantly surprised by it. By blogging, I've been able to interact with many like-minded people who are willing to engage in an ongoing conversation we're all having with each other. I am not nearly as alone or as hard to understand as I once thought.
So how do I see myself today? The name of this blog should answer that question. I'm beginning to see myself as more than an urban planner, but I have a lot more work to do to become the person I want to be. There are many aspects of my personality and behavioral patterns that I don't like. But I now see myself as a person with the strength and ability to change -- I didn't as recently as a few months ago. I am beginning to also see myself as someone others can come to understand, appreciate, even love. I had become convinced that I would live a misunderstood, solitary existence forever -- that I was too unique, too unusual, too quirky to ever "fit in" anywhere or with anyone. I still feel alienated and alone much of the time, but I refuse to be fatalistic about my life and where it will lead. Many things have happened to me in the last few months that demonstrate we can never be set in how we see ourselves, that we must challenge our perceptions and embrace our "true self," elusive and obfuscated though it may be.
Consider how Marrie and I have seen ourselves over the years and how we see ourselves today. Think about your own perceptions. Let me repeat Marrie's question (at least rhetorically) to all of you: How do you see yourself?
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 4:48 PM
4 comments
I'd like to share several things this afternoon...
A co-worker forwarded me a hilarious article from "The Onion" about zoning that should be funny even to those outside the urban planning field:
City Councilman Unearths Magical Zoning Amulet
I'm a big fan of "The Onion" and appreciate the fact that they poke fun at zoning and the workings of local government from time to time.
My friend Bill forwarded me an article from the "L.A. Times" about plans to create an overlay area code in the 3-1-0 that may be of interest:
Originally, the Public Utilities Commission was going to split the 3-1-0 territory; the ritzy coastal areas would retain the area code and the more hard-scrabble communities of Compton, Gardena, and the remainder of the inland "South Bay" would adopt 4-2-4. Public outcry sunk that plan, but using 4-2-4 as an overlay zone raises other issues. Everyone will have to adopt "10 digit dialing" and eventually people may have a different area code than their next-door neighbor.
As in many other big cities, a person's area code has become a bit of a "status symbol" in Los Angeles. Something as simple as a prefix raises issues of community identity and the emotions surrounding the implementation of 4-2-4 run deep. As for me, I live in 3-2-3, a somewhat generic area code that includes all of central Los Angeles outside of Downtown (the only territory still covered by 2-1-3, L.A.'s "original" area code). However, my cell phone is proudly reppin' 2-1-3. A few years back, I had four phone numbers (home, office, personal cell, work cell) all in the 2-1-3 area code...such consistency is hard to obtain for most Angelenos.
When the issue of area codes comes up, I like to recall the episode of "Seinfeld" where Elaine takes the phone number of a deceased neighbor so that she doesn't have to suffer the indignity of having a number in an "overlay zone" (she lost a date when a guy thought she lived in Jersey). I also like to recall the episode of "The Simpsons" where Springfield is divided into two area codes and Homer can't wrap his mind around the concept of "ten digit dialing." Once Homer realizes the "nice" part of town gets to keep the old area code, he leads a movement to have the other part of town secede and become "New Springfield," divided from its neighbor by a "Berlin Wall" of trash.
Speaking of Bill, he's my "Westside Connection" and we are eternally engaged in a debate as to which side of L.A. is "better." Since he doesn't read P.U. with any regularity, I'd like to put him "on blast" here for my own enjoyment (and perhaps yours):
You see, Bill is all about maintaining his precious "hipster cred." Just look at the photo from his Friendster profile displayed above: the glasses, the clothes, the ironic use of a gang sign, the can of Pabst Blue Ribbon! C'mon, Bill, a guy who is a living monument to all things hip and ironic belongs with me on the "Eastside." You ought to be living in Silver Lake, not Culver City, you big fucking hipster!
Moving on...the author of the "L.A. Weekly" article I discussed in this recent post actually dropped me an e-mail to thank me for my "thoughtful and informed comments" and encouraged me to give him a call and chat! I still can't believe it...I'm a little too intimidated to give him a call just yet, but I did write him back and told him how much I appreciate positive feedback from a "real" writer...I'm just some punk who blogs!
Last item: In a few hours, I'll be enjoying the King Tut exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). The tickets aren't cheap ($25 a pop), and you have to make an "appointment" (you are only allowed to enter at a pre-determined day and time), but I figure I may never have a chance to see these artifacts again in my life.
One interesting aspect of my trip to LACMA is that it will be the first time I'll be hanging out (in real life) with someone I met in the blogosphere. Yes, believe it or not, a young woman recently stumbled onto P.U. and she found it interesting enough to provoke her to seek me out -- I remain utterly in shock. Meeting someone for the first time is always a little nerve-wracking, but I think I'm more excited than anxious. Since we've read each other's blogs, we already know more about each other than either of us is probably completely comfortable with!
I love blogging, and I'm not afraid to admit it!
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 2:39 PM
2 comments
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 1:27 PM
4 comments
I was so excited about Antonio Villaraigosa's recent election as Mayor of Los Angeles that I attended his inauguration (read my report here). One of the reasons I supported Mr. Villaraigosa was that during his camapign he pledged to make our city's traffic woes one of his top priorities. More specifically, Mr. Villaraigosa advocated for the expansion of our Metro Rail system, often making referrence to "a subway to the sea." Angelenos knew he was alluding to the extension of the Red Line west down Wilshire Boulevard, a long-time dream of transit planners that has been stymied by the workings of the city's complex political landscape for decades.
In the late 1920's, this dream was already becoming a reality. Only a few miles from Downtown, Bullock's Wilshire opened in 1929 as the first "branch" of one of Downtown L.A.'s magnificent department stores. Further west, realtor A.W. Ross had begun to assemble his "Miracle Mile," and even further out the "Golden Triangle" of Beverly Hills was quickly becoming the region's most fashionable business district. Development along Wilshire was encouraged (somewhat ironically) by the absence of a streetcar line, which allowed more space for automobiles, and the provision of (then novel) off-street parking to serve the corridor's nascent commercial nodes.
While Wilshire Boulevard never became the urbane corridor of high-rises depicted above, it continued to develop as the city's densest corridor. Office and residential clusters rose among the shopping districts, cementing the boulevard's preeminence. Although it was designed for the automobile, Wilshire Boulevard grew to become the only "strip" that seemed to contain the density and vitality to support a high-capacity transit line.
With the assistance of Google Earth, I'd like to explore the route of a Wilshire Boulevard subway, largely for the benefit of my readers who may reside outside of Southern California. While the "buildings" layer of Google Earth's GIS interface does not depict all of our city's buildings in 3-D (at least not yet), I think the images I've captured depict the many high-density clusters along Wilshire Boulevard as it moves west from Downtown L.A. to the Pacific Ocean. Click on any of these images to see a larger view.
At the current time, buses traveling Wilshire Boulevard carry more than 80,000 people daily. By comparsion, L.A.'s Blue Line carries more than 75,000 people daily and is considered the nation's most heavily used light-rail corridor. Recently, Wilshire Boulevard became the first route for "Metro Rapid," a bus network that stops only once or twice each mile and is equipped with sensors that allow red lights along its path to turn green. Wilshire's Metro Rapid line has been a success, but Eric Berkowitz points out:
With all the traffic, the Wilshire “Rapid” bus generally goes a pathetic 14 mph, which is still such an improvement over the local that bus ridership has gone up 40 percent. Considering that half of the area’s other major bus lines cross Wilshire (generating about 60,000 daily transfers), there is a huge demand for fast, high-capacity rail transit that’s being ignored.
If even one more mile of subway is to be built in Los Angeles (a contentious idea in and of itself), it is obvious to all involved that it should be built along Wilshire Boulevard. Despite my own cynicism towards grandstanding proclamations from politicians, I believe Mr. Villaraigosa's statements (as quoted in Mr. Berkowitz's article) that "it would be the most utilized subway in the nation, maybe the world...it would also be the most cost-effective public-transportation project in America."
Transit Racism
Recently I wrote a blogicle about the Watts Riots of 1965 (read it here). I acknowledged that a lack of adequate public transit was one of the aggrevating factors that brought anger in the community to a boiling point. Mr. Berkowitz also touched upon this history:
In the 1940's, the streetcars served disadvantaged areas well enough, but they lost money and were flattened by the postwar freeway boom ... No one wanted to pay for mass transit when gas was cheap and traffic relatively light.
While L.A.'s car culture flourished, South-Central was left to rot and heat up like a backyard compost pile. In the aftermath of the Watts riots in 1965, the governor's commission pinned some of the blame on the area's poor public transportation ...
The Watts Riots created fears of an L.A. "civil war" fought along lines of race and class. Ironically, getting political support for a modern transit system that would make South L.A. less isolated became even more difficult. Mr. Berkowitz explained the ramifications of the Riots for a subsequent rail proposal:
One of the chief byproducts of the unrest was the embrace by the wealthy and white middle class of the city's de facto segregation. Whether it's called NIMBYism, racism, or neighborhood preservation, a lof of people were in no mood after the riots to make it easy to come to the Westside from East and South L.A.
The year 1968 was a rough ride for large American cities, especially L.A., where a dark-skinned man with a peculiar name killed Bobby Kennedy at the Ambassador Hotel. Against a backdrop of riots in 100 cities, the hapless Rapid Transit District (RTD) tried to sell a target for more culture clashes: an ambitious $2.5 billion plan for a new mass-transit system...
"The Hancock Park people were mortified that the same population that rioted in 1965 could come and have immediate access to their neighborhood," said James Watt McCormick of the Coalition for Rapid Transit, a subway advocacy group. "The imagery used at the time was the guy hopping off the subway and grabbing your TV out of your house and disappearing on the subway."
As smart as the plan was from a transit perspective, it was just what the fearful and divided region didn't want ... In the election that put Richard Nixon in office on a "law and order" platform, the county's last chance for a functional mass-transit system went down in flames.
In 1980, when voters passed Proposition A, former County Supervisor Kenneth Hahn (who represented South L.A. from 1953 to 1993) made sure that the Blue Line light-rail corridor (connecting Watts to Downtown and Long Beach) was the first project built. The Blue Line was completed in 1990 and the east-west Green Line(connecting Watts to Redondo Beach and Norwalk) was completed in 1995, giving the residents of South L.A. greater mobility. However, access to the Westside, which contains several large employment centers, has remained restricted due to race and class fears.
The Red Line, as presented to the voters in 1980, would run west down Wilshire from Downtown to Fairfax Avenue, then turn north along Fairfax Avenue before going into Hollywood and the San Fernando Valley. Again, residents in Hancock Park, an exclusive enclave not far from Downtown, proved to continue to be the proverbial "fly in the ointment" when it came to building a much-needed subway down Wilshire. Mr. Berkowitz describes the situation in the early 1980's:
The Fairfax Jewish community fretted about its main street being torn up. The bunkered-in homeowner groups in and around Hancock Park were also apoplectic about a subway station planned for Crenshaw and Wilshire. "They didn't want 'those people' coming into Hancock Park, low-income people," said RTD board member and Hancock Park resident George Takei. "The Hancock Park people clearly were making their opposition known to Henry Waxman."
The South Brookside Homeowners' Association (A NIMBY posse guarding the Highland-Wilshire area) was candid: "While we recognize the need for mass transportation in Los Angeles, we are unable to accept what appears to us to be an unwarranted assault on our neighborhood." The Boulevard Heights Homeowners' Association (covering the Crenshaw-Wilshire area) put it in existential terms, complaining that the subway station would "destroy the surrounding neighborhoods which are the only high-quality single-family neighborhoods close to the city center."
As far west as Beverly Hills, McCormick recalls, residents opposed the Wilshire subway "on the same notion - alien invasion."
In 1985, a horrific and bizarre event -- a methane explosion in the basement of the Ross Dress for Less store at Fairfax Avenue and 3rd Street -- derailed the original Red Line plan. Henry Waxman, a powerful Democrat who has represented Hancock Park and other wealthy Westside communities in the House of Representatives for more than two decades, used the explosion as "political cover" to openly oppose the Red Line. Mr. Waxman vowed to block RTD funding requests in Congress unless the subway was routed out of a "methane zone" designated by the City after the explosion, ostensibly to keep transit riders "safe."
RTD officials were mortified at the prospect of losing Federal funding and felt political pressure to get a subway out to the San Fernando Valley as soon as possible. Rather than fight Mr. Waxman, the transit agency decided to run the subway up Vermont Avenue (a few miles east of Fairfax), then west on Hollywood Boulevard before turning north into the Valley. A mile-long spur would continue west along Wilshire from Vermont to Western Avenue, stopping short of Hancock Park. Critics felt that the Red Line had become a "political football" rather than a mass-transit system and that neighborhoods along the new route weren't dense enough to support underground construction.
The issue of race served to transform the transit system a second time in the early 1990's. In those years, the Bus Riders Union (BRU) made a compelling argument that the recently formed Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA), which had assumed responsibility for both the Red Line and the bus system from RTD, was practicing "transit racism" by investing heavily in commuter rail while ignoring inner-city buses. When the BRU filed a federal civil rights lawsuit against the MTA in 1994, the city's buses were indeed obsolete and overcrowded. In 1996, former Mayor Richard Riordan signed a 10-year consent decree committing the MTA to give priority to improving the bus system over expanding the nascent Metro Rail network.
Mr. Berkowitz discussed the dubious consequences of the 1996 consent decree and the relevance of the BRU and its stated mission:
While the special master (the lawyer who oversees the decree) has ordered a one-third increase in the size of the bus fleet, "the actual number of people we carry on the bus remained flat," said MTA CEO Roger Snoble ... "We're not taking cars off the street. In fact, we're adding buses to the streets, which is causing more traffic jams" ... Since it costs about $200,000 per year to operate a bus, and most buses are only about 30 percent full, something isn't working. Unconcerned, and despite $1 billion spent to comply with the consent decree, the BRU continues to push for even more bus purchases, doubling the size of the fleet to 4,000 buses, and a ban on all rail construction.
The consent decree has done its job of improving the bus service, and the fleet has been replaced with natural gas-burning buses. While most say it is clearly time to end the litigation and go home, the BRU continues because the lawsuit is its main reason to exst. The MTA is required to pay the BRU's attorneys' fees, which gives the BRU a further incentive to press its attack on all rail projects as racist (even though almost two-thirds of Metro Rail's riders are minorities) and keep pounding for more bus purchases, regardless of need.
The BRU is out of step with its members in one important area. From 2002 to 2004, (Eric) Mann (who runs the BRU) and his wife, Lian Hurst Mann, a project director with the Labor/Community Strategy Center, were paid an average combined salary and deferred compensation of $204,500 a year. Half of the Metro Rail riders - the ones Mann says are too well-heeled to deserve transit dollars - have family incomes of less than $25,000.
I feel that the BRU has done a disservice to the people of Los Angeles by shifting the debate over rail transit to issues of race and class instead of issues of traffic and transportation. I think the BRU is missing the point and many others agree. A few weeks ago, I was shocked to read that the BRU opposses the Metro Orange Line, which will begin operating this fall. The Orange Line isn't a rail line -- it's a dedicated busway that will travel across the San Fernando Valley and feed into the Red Line. If the Bus Riders Union won't even support a busway, why should anyone take them seriously?
Even Mayor Villaraigosa, who supported the BRU back in the 1990's, has come to realize that the real "transit racism" in this town is not expressed by the MTA's current pursuit of a rail system, but rather by the fact that the much-needed Wilshire subway has been delayed for so long.
When I ride the Red Line, I percieve a sense of egalitarianism and democracy commuicated through the remarkable diversity of the subway's passengers. It has become a microcosm of the metropolis itself. I feel that a great public transportation system will serve to unite Angelenos, not divide them. In his inaugural address, Mayor Villaraigosa acknowledged the "darker truth" of the city, "that there is a whole world of frustration lurking in the shadows between the lights." Greater understanding and togetherness are hard to achieve when the majority of our citizens travel alone in their cars...it has become too easy for us to isolate ourselves from the greater city, a situation in which no one benefits.
Idealizing the Past
My main criticism regarding Mr. Berkowitz's article is that he idealizes the "streetcar era" in Los Angeles, implying that the old system served the metropolis adequately and that it was appreciated by its contemporaries.
The Los Angeles Railway (LARY), or "Yellow Cars," provided local service within the City of Los Angeles along surface streets, while the Pacific Electric Railway (PE), or "Red Cars," provided access to the larger region, reaching into Orange, San Bernardino, and Riverside counties, largely on its own private right-of-ways. In its time, the PE was the largest "interurban" transit system in the world. Here is a route map of the PE at its peak (click on it for a high-resolution image):
L.A.'s electric railways encouraged the low-density sprawl that made the city distinctly different from those on the East Coast. Henry Huntington, a magnate who owned both systems for a time, made his fortune not with transit revenues, but with profits from the sale of land easily accessible to his rail lines. The urban form that developed in the streetcar era proved even better suited to automobiles, which provided access to areas far removed from the rail system.
Los Angeles was quick to adopt automobility on a large scale. Automobile registrations in L.A. County soared from 16,000 in 1910 to 430,000 in 1923. As early as 1920, one car existed for every 3.6 Angelenos, versus one for every 30 Chicagoans or one for every 13.1 people nationwide. As the city sprawled further and further, the rail lines became less relevant.
The move towards automobile transportation in L.A. was in large part a rejection of the streetcar system. Transit riders felt that the system was poorly maintained and overcrowded. While these concerns mirror those of the current Bus Riders Union, in the streetcar days transit riders did not believe they were being mistreated due to an ambiguous sense of racism, but rather due to the incompetence and greed of the railway owners. Angelenos rightly believed men like Huntington were more concerned about real estate deals than serving the public need. Buying an automobile became a liberating "progressive" act that released the yoke of an inefficient, possibly corrupt corporation on your daily life. Consider this cartoon from the May 11, 1920 edition of the Los Angeles Times:
Not only did Angelenos have no love for the railway companies, the trains themselves were regarded as obstacles for motorists. As grade crossings along the PE increased, so did accidents, and the trains were forced to slow down. In Downtown, pedestrians, automobiles, LARY cars, and PE cars all jockeyed for space, making congestion in the central district unbearable.
A City-commissioned report issued by Kelker, De Leuw & Company in April 1925 recommended a system of rapid-transit lines on elevated structures to serve the city's rapidly growing population and seperate streetcar and automobile traffic in Downtown. Angelenos opposed the construction of elevated lines, decrying the darkness, noise, and dirt they would inflict on the streets beneath them. Indeed, L.A.'s urban form was a rejection of traditional cities like New York and Chicago that had substantial elevated transit systems. Taxpayers, by and large, had little interest in funding such an ambitious scheme.
While a political consensus couldn't be reached on rail transit in the 1920's, street improvements were another matter. In 1924, L.A. voters approved a Major Traffic Street Plan and a $5 million bond issue to raise the funds necessary to implement it. Streets throughout the city were widened and extended to accomodate the growing motorist population, creating a network of "boulevards" that criss-crossed the young metropolis. The die was cast; L.A. would become the quintessential "car town."
Throughout the 1930's, transit ridership fell and both LARY and PE incurred heavy losses. The trains were outdated and poorly maintained and service was cut back. In time, entire lines were eliminated. The streetcar system couldn't meet the needs of modern Los Angeles, allowing for its slow but certain death.
After a brief spike in ridership and revenues during World War II, the streetcar system continued its decline. In the postwar era, Angelenos again built a consensus around a solution to the never-ending problem of automobile traffic: a system of limited-access "freeways" that would zip motorists around the metropolis. However, no such consensus could be reached on public transit. Some far-sighted planners felt that the freeway corridors could also be used by interurban trains -- sadly, the PE wasn't in a financial position to build lines in the freeway medians (beyond a modest 2-mile section along the Hollywood Freeway through Cahuenga Pass), and the taxpayers seemed unwilling to pay for transit.
By the early 1950's, the entire system was a relic -- obsolete and inefficient. Both LARY and PE continued to shed train routes and replace them with buses. The situation became so dire that both systems were brought into public ownership under the aegis of the original Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority in the late 1950's -- private companies simply couldn't make a profit on providing transit service in Los Angeles.
I especially take issue with a statement made in "Highs and Lows of L.A. Rail," a sidebar to the article consisting of a timeline of the city's transit battles. The statement is that "They (the streetcars) died after they were bought up by some dummy companies tied to the automotive industry" and it is patently false.
The idea that the streetcar system was "stolen" from appreciative Angelenos through a "conspiracy" led by General Motors -- perhaps best expressed in the plot line of the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" -- remains popular. A number of historians have debunked this conspiracy theory. It is true that LARY (but not PE) was operated for a time by National City Lines, a company partially controlled by GM, Firestone, and Standard Oil that replaced several streetcar lines with buses. It is also true that GM was forced to sell its interests in transit systems throughout the nation as a result of an anti-trust action, but the issue involved was that GM was attempting to corner the market for transit buses, not that it was systematically dismantling streetcar networks to encourage car ownership. The fact of the matter is that the streetcars began their decline long before National City Lines came along, and that it was the original LACMTA, a government agency, that "killed" the few streetcar lines still in operation after 1955.
The statement in the article's sidebar should have been "They (the streetcars) died after they were bought up by the government." I will say, though, that I really like one of the graphics included in the timeline:
The streetcar era may be somewhat instructive when looking at the issue of traffic in L.A. today, but we cannot idealize that system...it was built in a far different time for a far different city. The system was ultimately rejected by the people of Los Angeles, who consistently preferred automobiles.
An Impossible Dream?
In his inaugural address, Mayor Villaraigosa repeatedly called upon Angelenos to "dream with me." There may be no bigger dream today than getting a subway built down Wilshire Boulevard.
There are many signs that the political climate may be changing enough for a consensus to occur on the Red Line extension. Henry Waxman, who still claims his main concern has always been safety, is willing to let the City re-study the methane gas issue, opening the possibility he may change his position and support tunneling along Wilshire. His constituency in Hancock Park has become more concerned about gridlock than a minority "invasion." Indeed, traffic on the Westside remains the city's worst and the city as a whole has grown more diverse and less segregated since 1985.
The construction of the Red Line from Downtown to the San Fernando Valley during the early 1990's was fraught with political bickering and legitimate scandal: kickbacks, shoddy construction, and a gigantic sinkhole on Hollywood Boulevard. The new MTA's image suffered further when the agency completed construction of a palatial headquarters tower at Union Station that critics derided as a "Taj Mahal." Incompetence at the MTA garnered little public support for the agency's rail endeavors and placed the agency in a weak position to negotiate with the Bus Riders Union once it was sued. Memories of this era have faded but are not wholly forgotten, casting doubt on whether there will ever be enough political support for a second subway endeavor.
Powerful Los Angeles County Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky, a long-time MTA critic, seized upon the public's frustration by sponsoring a 1998 initiative that banned the use of County sales tax money for subway construction. When voters passed the initiative, MTA dropped the proposed Red Line extensions into the Mid-City area and East L.A. Today, Mr. Yaroslavsky is willing to concede that a Wilshire subway may help address his Westside constituents' concerns about traffic, but he stands behind his position that the County's money shouldn't be spent on it. Of course, building a modern subway would likely be impossible without local funding -- the existing 17-mile Red Line cost $4.7 billion -- especially if Republicans continue to control Congress.
Mr. Berkowitz's article tends to look at a Wilshire subway as a kind of "panacea" for the city's traffic woes, but it isn't. However, the article's support of the Mayor's dream is a welcome antidote to the rhetoric of the Bus Riders Union and anti-rail libertarians such as USC professor James Moore who blast mass transit as an antiquated technology unsuited to L.A.'s urban form and favor the more "flexible" transportation offered by buses and/or removing the government from the transit business altogether.
The problem with buses as a solution to traffic in Los Angeles is that they share the same freeways and boulevards that automobiles do and sit in the same traffic. Business owners have fought every attempt to create "bus-only" lanes during rush hours because curbside parking would be sacrificed. It's obvious that an effective transit system needs its own right-of-ways. The Orange Line busway will be closely watched; if successful, additional busways should be considered as lower-cost alternatives to light-rail and/or subways. However, a busway that has operated along the Harbor Freeway, complete with rail-like station platforms, has proven to be a resounding failure.
Automobile traffic along Wilshire Boulevard prevents buses from moving quickly, and the creation of "bus-only" lanes, even if they're only utilized during rush hours, is an idea unlikely to garner much support. The issue of decreasing automobile capacity on the boulevard also makes a light-rail line along the street an unattractive option. A dedicated right-of-way along Wilshire can only go above or below the boulevard, and Angelenos remain as opposed to elevated lines today as they were in 1925. Therefore, building a subway remains the only logical choice for a high-capacity transit line into the Westside.
The Metro Rail network has continued to expand but must include a line into the Westside to adequately serve the city's needs. The Red Line was completed in 2000, and the light-rail Gold Line (connecting Downtown to Pasadena) began operating in 2003. Construction has begun on an extension of the Gold Line from Downtown into East L.A. that should be in operation by 2010. Currently, the MTA's top transit priority (which the Mayor shares) is obtaining funding to build the first phase of the light-rail Expo Line, which will connect Downtown to Culver City by way of Exposition Boulevard. The Expo Line will bring the system west, but along a corridor several miles south of Wilshire that does not provide access to many key employment centers.
The Mayor doesn't have any authority over the MTA, but he wields much influence, as he controls four seats on the agency's board and has the option of assuming its chairmanship (which he has). Our former Mayor, James K. Hahn (Kenneth Hahn's son), wasn't very aggressive in traffic matters and didn't intervene much in MTA affairs; Mr. Villaraigosa is taking an entirely different approach. Mr. Villaraigosa can also use his position as Mayor as a "bully pullpit" to drum up public support for his subway ambitions. He may be the only person in this city who can attempt to jump the political hurdles involved in finally getting the Wilshire subway underway.
Mr. Berkowitz quoted the Mayor as recently saying:
"This isn't going to happen in four years...We've got to start building a consensus around a plan for the next 20 years...To me it's just common sense. As things get worse, people realize we can't put our heads in the sand. We have to be open to doing what other great cities in the world have done."
If Mr. Villaraigosa proves successful in cultivating the political will to get the idea of a Wilshire subway moving again, future generations of Angelenos will be eternally grateful.
I fully support Mr. Villaraigosa in this endeavor -- while I agree with the expansion of public transit in L.A. "in theory," it's more important that "I practice what I preach" by using the Red Line and other forms of public transit in my own life. I would encourage all Angelenos to support a Wilshire subway, but in the meantime, each of us has a responsibility to reduce traffic by being part of the solution: avoid unnecessary driving, carpool, and use transit when possible. Los Angeles continues to grow and change, and it's become obvious we can't sustain a lifestyle of driving everywhere alone. We must change too.
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 1:04 AM
9 comments
Being a Councilperson has its perks...This week Eric Garcetti's Blog recieves the P.U. spotlight. Mr. Garcetti represents District 13 on the Los Angeles City Council, serving many diverse neighborhoods, including Atwater Village, Silver Lake, Echo Park, Westlake, Koreatown, and East Hollywood.
Sadly, though I am a resident of East Hollywood, Mr. Garcetti is not my Councilperson. As I live just north of Hollywood Boulevard, I am a few hundred feet outside his jurisdiction. However, I'm glad to be within his "sphere of influence," as he supported the restoration of the historic Toberman House, located just down the street from me.
Mr. Garcetti is one of the most dedicated and progressive members of the City Council. He cares about the neighborhoods he serves and is known to drive around his district looking for graffiti, potholes, and couches dumped on sidewalks. He also cares about the welfare of the entire city, as he is a leading advocate for an inclusionary zoning ordinance.
The best thing about Mr. Garcetti's blog is that it demonstrates the power of the Web to facilitate the democratic process. Blogging is a way to get young people more involved in politics...Mr. Garcetti is certainly more "with it" that his predecessor, Jackie Goldberg, who was recently quoted as saying "that's why they're worried about your generation, because you get your news from Comedy Central...and you blog, whatever that means." I give mad props to Mr. Garcetti for knowing what blogging is and harnessing its power to better serve his constituents.
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 8:00 PM
0 comments
Your tax dollars at work...
<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>>I'm not sure why some of my fellow bueaucrats think it's so important for us to wear these shirts at "L.A. County Day at the Fair." Do we really want to be inundated with reminders of our jobs when we're on the ferris wheel, eating corn dogs, and judging the livestock? I think not. Alas, "corporate culture" is a strange beast...not only at the County, but at any organization, public or private.
Frankly, though, I do love L.A. County -- soon I may have the shirt to prove it.
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 5:45 PM
1 comments
Vijay and I at "The LB," circa 2001<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>>
A Barca Worth the Bite
Why Cops and Coeds Flock to the Mexican Restaurant
by Jay Edwards
La Barca, the popular, family-owned Mexican eatery on Vermont Avenue, attracts all kinds during the week, but on Tuesday nights you get the $2 margarita crowd, also known as the USC crowd. If you don't get there early, I learned, you'll wait in a line outside the door or squeeze into the foyer where you can order margaritas from the hostess to pass the time.
It's a hospitable idea, but because you can't drink on city sidewalks the result of offering cocktails to waiting patrons is that the narrow space inside the door fills with boozy undergrads, elbow to elbow, tipping back salty glasses. But these margaritas make the squeeze comfy; though the tequila is not top shelf, the mix is consistent, strong and just sweet enough. The trouble is getting your order right among the chaos of chatty coeds and frat-daddies. Rocks or frozen? Salt or no salt? Plain or strawberry? For $2 a drink, do the hardworking staff a favor and keep it simple.
Once inside, you'll find La Barca's vibe is ultra-Mexican, with an adobe feel and traditional artwork accented by the same bright reds and greens as the colorful entrees. As we were seated in the rowdy dining area, where the booths overrun with garnet and gold, our server Ricardo kept the margaritas coming.
To cushion the alcohol we ordered queso fundido ($4.25), a Mexican fondue with a nice touch of chorizo that was unfortunately lacking on this busy night. By the time the dish arrived the cheese had become a large, cold mozzarella stick. But a bowl of guacamole ($3.95) was lively, and a chicken quesadilla ($4.50), with the basics done right, was easy to share.
I returned the next day for lunch to dig further into the menu. This time, instead of USC students and faculty, nearly every table in the main room was occupied by uniformed police officers. Turns out that's a regular daytime sight at La Barca.
I slunk into the now quiet back booths and downed water. Ricardo grinned broadly and recommended the menudo. "Mexico's best hangover cure," he said. Healing powers aside, the thick tripe-laden soup was the perfect lead-in to camarones empanizados ($10.25), a plate of huge shrimp fried in a spicy egg batter. It was the best of the wide range of seafood, but the Sopa 7 Mares bouillabaisse, a potent broth comprising several sea creatures with a touch of citrus, was a close second.
A friend from the previous night before soon joined me and tried the expertly fried chimichangas ($7.95) that crunched easily without falling apart. Also on the menu is a variety of signature burritos, including El Coloso ($8.25), which we split and still couldn't finish. Made with pork or beef and everything else in the kitchen, it is as heavy and dense as a sandbag, though tastes much better.
A solid combination plate is La Grandota ($10.50), which delivers an enchilada, a taco, chile relleno and a nice tamale. But for more authentic Mexico, order a meat dish. The carnitas ($9.25), braised pork topped with cilantro and pico de gallo, might arrive somewhat dry, but the superb carne asada ($9.25) is kept succulent by a lime-garlic marinade, dusted with salt and garnished with guacamole and onions.
The dish most acclaimed by regulars is chile verde ($9.25), mounds of cubed pork simmered in a thick mix of onion, garlic, tomatillo and chile sauce that had me mopping my brow.
As is the custom at La Barca, we ate until we could eat no more. By then the cops were back on the beat and a new crowd had filed in. Ricardo soon arrived with that grin of his to report that La Barca's Happy Hour, one of the best in town, runs 3-8 p.m. and had just begun. I glanced at my friend across the table. We still had a few bucks left.
La Barca is at 2414 S. Vermont Ave, (323) 735-6567. Lunch and dinner, Sun.-Thurs. 11 a.m.-10 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-11 p.m.
<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>><<<>>>
The first time I visited La Barca was during my sophomore year at USC. I immediately fell in love with the food (Mexican cuisine has always been my favorite), awed by the generous portions served at reasonable prices.
My love for the restaurant grew exponentially once I reached legal drinking age during my junior year. Of course, I had a fake I.D. before then, but I was afraid to use it anywhere, especially at a restaurant catering to college kids where the servers were trained to spot such forgery. In those days, the margaritas were only $1.50 during "happy hour," which to this day never ends on Tuesdays. I have to disagree with Mr. Edwards -- at least in that era, the quality of the margaritas was anything but "consistent" -- but at that time in my life, cheap drinks were an imperative and I had no reservations about quality. Even at the current rate of $2.00, the margaritas are a steal.
Long a fan of acronyms, I soon labeled La Barca as simply "The LB," presaging my future success in government bureaucracy. The nickname caught on, at least in my circle of friends, and we soon found ourselves at the restaurant on a weekly basis ingesting good Mexican food and cheap margaritas. I was proud when the servers stopped "carding me" after they began to recognize me as a regular guest.
Before beginning my senior year, I moved from the northeastern edge of the USC campus to the northwestern edge, choosing a fashionable location on Ellendale Place. As the restaurant was finally within comfortable walking distance, "The LB" became my headquarters, and my friends spent many "happy hours" there with me attempting to pretend that the fraternity and sorority crowd surrounding us, who loved the place too, simply didn't exist.
After graduation, I lived in a "slum property" on 25th Street, only a couple minutes from "The LB" -- in those heady days, we'd spend a few hours at the restaurant, hit up the liquor store next door with bullet-proof glass along the counter, and continue the party on my porch. "The LB" gave us a sense of community and belonging when it seemed our entire existence was in flux.
By the by, I've seen a man eat an entire "El Coloso" burrito, and it ain't pretty.
I promised myself that I'd continue to patronize La Barca into my adulthood, but I'm ashamed to admit I haven't been there for at least a year. Visit this gem if you can -- in this city, it's common knoweldge that police officers know where to eat, and the LAPD loves "The LB" -- hit me up if you'd like to enjoy a happy hour or two, enjoying excellent Mexican food while reliving my collegiate past. Viva La Barca!
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 9:17 PM
8 comments
I'm not trying to inflame a rivalry with my East Coast counterpart, just gloating a bit. I know there's enough room for both of us on the Web. Those seeking knowledge of the Messiah and those seeking knowledge of the malls at King of Prussia will continue to be enlightened by our respective endeavors.
posted by Mitch Glaser @ 3:47 PM
6 comments
The members of my high school "clique" had all gone their seperate ways; Zach was living in rural Wisconsin, Paul was living in Chicago, Steve was living in Atlanta, Jay was living in Phoenix, Michael was living in San Francisco, and I was living in L.A. Zach was the first to get hitched, so we all thought his wedding would be a great opportunity to reunite and have some fun. Steve was the only guy who didn't end up making it.
Since Paul lived in Chicago, Jay, Michael, and I decided to fly in and spend a little time in the Windy City before heading out to Wisconsin. I arrived a day earlier than the other guys to ensure I had a day to explore Chicago on my own and see things the others might not be interested in (read: stores and malls).
I arrived at Midway Airport on the afternoon of Tuesday, July 27, 2004. I was impressed that Chicago's famous "L" (short for "elevated") rail transit system ties directly into Midway (as it also does O'Hare) because L.A.'s Metro Rail stops a couple miles sort of LAX, forcing you to take a shuttle. I took the Orange Line into the Loop and transferred onto the Red Line, arriving in the Wrigleyville neighborhood, where I met Paul and had dinner. After dinner, Paul drove me around Chicago since he knew I was excited to be there for the first time. We ended the night getting caught up and recounting our (mis)adventures during high school.
The next morning, I was pleased to find that "The Price is Right" was not only on at the same time in Chicago (10:00 a.m.) but that it was also on the same channel (2). After watching "TPIR" and browsing the day's edition of the Chicago Tribune, I walked a few blocks to the California Avenue Blue Line station and rode to the Chicago Avenue station. I walked east down Chicago Avenue until I reached Michigan Avenue.
"The Magnificent Mile" of Michigan Avenue is home to Chicago's historic Water Tower (inexplicably spared by the 1871 fire that consumed most of the city), the John Hancock Center (a mixed-use tower that is a city onto itself), Water Tower Place (the country's most successful vertical mall), and a collection of prestigious stores known around the world. Where Michigan Avenue meets the Chicago River, it is flanked by the distinctive Wrigley Building on its west and the equally distinctive Chicago Tribune Building on its east.
After exploring (and documenting) "The Magnificent Mile," I headed over to State Street, the city's less prestigious but still impressive shopping district, home to the flagship stores of Chicago retailing legends Marshall Field's and Carson Pirie Scott. From there, I explored the rest of The Loop, ending up near the Sears Tower. I would have liked to visit the observation deck of what was once the tallest building in the world, but it was getting late in the afternoon and I would've had to wait at least an hour in line.
Paul knew how badly I wanted to visit Woodfield, a super-regional mall out in the suburbs, and luckily he worked nearby. The night before, he helped me find a way to get out to Woodfield: take the Blue Line out from the Loop to the Cumberland Avenue station and transfer to a PACE bus that would drop me off at the mall. More on my pilgrimage to Woodfield can be seen here.
I met Paul at Woodfield and we went back to Chicago to have dinner. A couple hours later, we picked up Jay at O'Hare, and a few hours after that we picked up Michael at Midway. We stopped at a bar on the way back from Midway, and I still don't know what impressed me most: that Chicago has bars open at 3:00 a.m., that you can smoke in bars in Chicago, or that there were a lot of people at this particular bar at 3:00 a.m. on a Thursday. Chicago knows how to party.
On Thursday afternoon, Jay, Michael, and I returned to The Loop by way of the Blue Line. The three of us checked out "The Magnificent Mile," shopped at H&M, had lunch at Water Tower Place, and visited the observation deck at the John Hancock Center (known affectionately to Chicagoans as "Big John"). Although the Hancock is not as tall as Sears Tower, Paul said it had a better view, and the line was shorter than that at Sears Tower. We then hopped on the Red Line, stopped to check out Wrigley Stadium and Wrigleyville, then moved north to the campus of Loyola University of Chicago, Paul's alma mater, where he picked us up.
Paul drove us back into The Loop, where we visited Millenium Park and Buckingham Square Fountain before having a big sushi dinner. After dinner, we went bar-hopping late into the night and were pleased to rediscover the camaraderie we had all enjoyed during our time at Brophy College Prep in Phoenix. We may have been living different lives in different parts of the country, but that didn't mean we were fundamentally different people than we once were.
Friday morning we all woke up nice and hungover and piled into Paul's car for our drive out to Black River Falls, Wisconsin.
I will share the second half of my trip to the Midwest in a future post.
I absolutely loved Chicago and would entertain the idea of moving there if it were not for one key issue: the weather. On the two days I was out exploring the city, Chicago was experiencing L.A.-like weather, not too warm or humid. I know must summer days aren't like that, and we all know what Chicago is like in the winter (cold, windy, snowy). I do plan on returning, though -- Chicago has a special place in the heart of urban planners, as it was home to Daniel Burnham (arguably the father of urban planning as we know it) and remains as one of our nation's greatest cities.
Chicago planted "the travel bug" within me, as I left wanting to explore more of the United States and its cities. Had I not gone to Chicago, I probably wouldn't have been ambitious enough to take a trip to New York City, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. earlier this year. I'll get around to telling you more about that trip later.
I made sure to take lots of photographs in Chicago and you can see 85 of them (excluding the Woodfield pictures) at my space on Flickr. Allow me to share some of them here as well:
Now that's what I call a sign -- remember the opening credits of the TGIF classic "Perfect Strangers"? Don't front, I know you watched it too.
Speaking of Chicago landmarks featured in the opening credits of TV shows, here's Buckingham Square Fountain, as seen on "Married...With Children." From L to R: Jay, P