John Wise

We must be getting old and boring because instead of finding something new, we went right back down to Figueroa Street to eat at the Pantry again. Instead of showing you yet another photo of the interior or exterior of that, here’s a building inside a building, so to speak.

Now the real reason we came to Los Angeles this weekend. We are here to see a movie, a 40-year-old movie. A restored 70mm print of Lawrence of Arabia is being shown here in the Cinerama Dome theater in honor of its anniversary. When Caroline and I met back in 1989, we quickly learned that we had similar tastes in movies, with both of us in love with films such as Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, Blade Runner, Dune, Polyester, Eraserhead, and, of course, Lawrence of Arabia. Looking back I have to wonder how much of an impact all of these movies made on us due to the amazing soundtracks.

Our screening wasn’t for a while, so we walked across the street towards Hollywood Blvd to visit the Hollywood Farmers Market. We picked up a couple of things and dropped them in the ice chest in our car on our way back to the theater. Notice the two signs on top of buildings in the background. The first for Scientology sits on the roof of the old Guaranty Bank building where Rudolph Valentino used to have an office; the church bought it four years ago. The other sign is a historic one for the Broadway department store in Hollywood, that building has been empty since 1987. By the way, Lawrence of Arabia is 3 hours 40 minutes long plus intermission so guess where we’ll be the rest of the afternoon.

The movie is over, and we are on our way back to Arizona. Our first stop was at Ten Ren’s Tea Time to try the Passion Fruit Mango Teazer; it is one of the most flavorful iced drinks we have ever tried.

Shakey’s Pizza because, as far as the West Coast goes, this is one of the best pizzas ever. What another great weekend living in the extraordinary instead of being boring.

If we are having breakfast here at the Original Pantry Cafe, you can bet we spent the night in the L.A. area, and if you are attentive, you’ll realize that we were here in Los Angeles last weekend, too.

Arriving in Little India early in the day, the place looked like a ghost town; fortunately, everything was about to open, and Caroline got the shopping done she was looking to do here.

Over to Santa Monica at Third Street Promenade for the weekly Farmers Market on Saturday so we can start filling the ice chest that we drag back and forth between Arizona and California. While we are just a state away, the produce we get in Arizona is never picked as ripe as it is here in California for their open-air markets.

While it seems like we just ate breakfast when you are reading my blog, you should consider that going from downtown L.A. to Artesia and then to Santa Monica takes a considerable amount of time. So why not head over to Hollywood to get a giant Pastrami Burrito from the world-famous Oki Dog for lunch to satisfy that hunger for more grease in our diet? Nothing quite delivers like a couple of giant tortillas wrapped around a mountain of grilled onions, and peppers piled high with pastrami, chili, pickles, and mustard with a side of what must be at least two pounds of potatoes deep-fried to exacting French standards.

Back into downtown Los Angeles and, more specifically, Olvera Street in the historic Pueblo de Los Angeles.

Not sure if this was part of a festival or just a dance performance, but I surely should have gotten a better photograph and inquired as to the why’s.

While not the same room, the floor pattern should look familiar to everyone who’s seen Blade Runner. We are at Union Station for our first ride on the Los Angeles subway system.

Not the place you want to be should an earthquake happen.

We made it as far as Universal Studios, which is about 10 miles from Union Station, and then started backtracking.

We’re on Hollywood Boulevard, if there is any doubt.

It wasn’t the military surplus store behind Caroline that caught my interest; it was the star from Boris Karloff that did that. When I was a kid, watching old movies with Boris Karloff, Peter Cushing, Lon Chaney, Vincent Price, and Christopher Lee could keep me up well past midnight. It didn’t matter how many times I might have seen Theater of Blood, I would cringe every time I watched the character Meredith Merridew eat his dogs or be super creeped out by the music from Terror in the Crypt; I was a horror movie aficionado, and until my mid 20’s often entertained the idea of working in the movies due to my love of the horror genre.

Back on the train to where we began this afternoon’s trip across the city.

Union Station is a beautiful piece of architecture that we do not visit enough nor take advantage of the trains that depart from here.

Learned of this place called Philippe The Original that claims to have invented the French Dip and knew we had to go. The restaurant opened in 1908, but it wasn’t until 1918 when a roll dropped in the au jus, and the policeman ordering it said he’d take it anyway and then returned the next day with some buddies that the French Dip was born. Great sandwich, and will certainly return.

Philippe’s is on the edge of Chinatown, so as we were still relatively early into the night, we thought it was a good time to walk around and get a feel for this corner of the city outside of daylight hours.

We headed to our motel in Ontario at the California Inn and had to stop at Ten Ren’s Tea Time for a boba tea, a perfect dessert!

Too bad we already had French dips for dinner. We certainly would have loved to eat at Yung Ho’s, because we are always on the lookout for authentic experiences with ho’s of any age.

Not satisfied that we had already squeezed two weekends’ worth of fun stuff into a single day, we are back out in Los Angeles to capture another couple of weekends right here on Sunday. While impossible to read, that iconic sign behind us should be familiar enough to recognize that it’s the Hollywood sign.

We have reserved seats for the next screening, so we’re not worried about being in that line across the street, but soon, we’ll head over for our second viewing of Miyazaki’s newest work, Spirited Away.

Back in the day, celebrities were stars and not fetishes. They were celebrated and often filled the roles of being inspirations and mentors, even though they were flawed. Today, the spectacle of mediocrity is the celebrity. Starting in the 1960s, when the average person could be on TV, whether it was Let’s Make a Deal, The Newlywed Game, or The Dating Game, we put on the absurd, bringing us to the Jerry Springer Show, Geraldo, and Howard Stern that all allowed us to witness and take “inspiration” from the tragic in our society who then gained a certain amount of “celebrity.”

Those who used to visit Hollywood were virtually rubbing shoulders by standing in their footprints, comparing hand size, or finding their favorite star on Hollywood Boulevard. We chose Lefty Frizzell to take our picture over because other than some country and western aficionados, who knows who this guy was?

On to the subway for a ride south so we could visit the Thai Town Festival. Food, dance, music, and traditional dress were everywhere.

We even had the opportunity to have our photo taken with Ms. Thai Town.

It was getting close to having to return to Phoenix, and so we were again on the train, this time to Union Station, where we’d parked the car.

But first, a quick drive through Skid Row to keep us grounded in the reality that we are profoundly lucky to be seeing and doing what we are because the alternative could be an existence in a cardboard box without any opportunity to escape the trap of homelessness and crushing poverty.

After all the great food in L.A., we returned to Phoenix late, where our choices were relegated to McDonald’s, Denny’s, or Waffle House; we opted for the latter.