Dreams, Moments, Travels
An old friend, Uwe Hamm-Furholter, wrote me and sent this brochure for the Exground Filmfest held in Wiesbaden, Germany, for the past 18 years – he and I went to the first one back in 1988, and I got my clock cleaned by Ari Roussimoff following the Exground showing of his film Shadows in the City in 1990 or 1991. Uwe brought the likes of Nick Zedd to Germany to show his films, did some documentary work with Richard Kern, and has always had a liking for extreme films.
Last night, we were invited by the Shahs for dinner at their place with the Patel’s, and, oh yeah, Raenu, and then Gautam showed up too – boy, did we have a nice time and were fed well to boot. Sadly, this photo was taken after Gautam had left, and he had been so kind as to bring a cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory for dessert – Thank You, Gautam. And thanks to Mrs. Shah for the excellent meal. Just as we were about to leave, here came Khushboo and Saurin, so we stayed a few more minutes to say hi, as we’ve not seen these two in such a long time.
Another visit to see the Silvas in Tucson, Arizona. Our stop last month was too short; matter of fact, we only had moments on the street talking with Guadalupe, who was taking her daughters Melissa and Sophia (above) to Sunday school. Arturo was home, but we would only chat with him for about an hour and a half before we had to leave, and he would join his family at church.
As with our last drive south, this one, too, included seeing a movie. Today’s flick was the Japanese film Kamikaze Girls being shown at the Loft Cinema. Arturo came with us for this subtitled, candy-colored sweety girl film, although I offered plenty of opportunities to pass on joining us. He insisted on joining and even laughed during the screening.
Kamikaze Girls follows two high school students, one a Rococo aficionado who dresses lolita style, the other a Yanki who, like a tough biker chick, tries hard to put it on while sputtering about on her tricked-out scooter. The movie is visually a punch to the senses, and the story is a nice rendition of the need to do your own thing.
Instead of driving back immediately to Phoenix after the movie, as we did in September, this evening we made reservations for dinner together, and so we drove back to Arturo’s home just before sunset. Our reservation was not until 7:30, so we talked a while before leaving.
Caroline, Sophia, and Melissa (above) played piano for a while, and Sophia also gave me a spelling lesson proving that not only could she spell echolocation, but she knew what it was – that’s one smart second grader. Melissa spent most of her time reading a new book she bought today called Inkspell by Cornelia Funke.
When we arrived earlier in the day, Arturo’s mother, who lives with the family, was busy tutoring two art students. Inez is an artist who, when not painting, takes on students to help them learn the craft. This painting of Frida Kahlo is one of a few hanging in the front room of the Silva house that Inez has painted. There are also paintings of Arturo and Arturito. One painting of a reclining woman is now dressed; hmmm, I don’t remember her wearing that shirt as the painting was being finished. Inez is also turning her attention to knitting and showed us a nice shawl she recently completed.
On to dinner, and what a long dinner it was. We had discussed eating at either La Paria Suiza, P.F. Chang’s, or The Melting Pot, then offered the deciding choice to Guadalupe, and she opted for The Melting Pot. This place is popular on the weekend as we called early in the afternoon to reserve a table at six, and the first we could book was for 7:30.
Just choosing from all the options took us nearly a half hour, but as soon as things got moving, we thoroughly enjoyed the dinner. Well, all of us except the two girls who found this a little too weird. Fortunately, we were able to keep them interested as we described the chocolate fondue dessert that was yet to be served.
For two long hours, Melissa and Sophia Silva waited with great patience for the adults to eat the yucky food before the chocolate fondue arrived. Like a bat finding its dinner with echolocation, the girls’ skills at precision chocolate dipping and finding their mouths had them looking like professional fonduers. Now energized, happy, and quickly becoming gastronomically satisfied, our three-hour stuffing at the Melting Pot in Tucson, Arizona, was over.
Here is dessert, and the long faces disappear. Our visit lasted all day with the Silvas but hasn’t yet included an overnight, although we have been invited a dozen times. This past year has seen the fewest occasions of coming together for a bite to eat or chat; this will hopefully not be the story for the coming year, as we always enjoy our visits to Tucson with the Silvas.
Attention: This post was modified from its original two photographs and a minimal amount of text and updated in November 2022 to better represent what we did over the course of the day.
Something left out of the original post was the motivating idea behind this day in and around Los Angeles. You see, we were avid Giant Robot magazine subscribers back then who loved everything that was being produced out of the founders’ shop on Sawtelle Boulevard in Los Angeles. One particular feature in the magazine with which I was enamored was their “Perfect Day” articles that would have artists from various places describe their perfect day and send the guys photos depicting that day. This has inspired many of our days out traveling in America, and this particular bolt to Southern California is one of those Perfect Day adventures.
We were up and gone early this Saturday morning, getting out of Phoenix by 6:00 a.m.
With only minutes to spare, we just barely made the last tour of the Hollywood Forever Cemetery at 12:00 p.m., led by the Art Deco Society. While I certainly enjoyed the Ramones from 1976 through about 1978, the Sex Pistols and Black Flag were channeling the kind of anger that was coursing through my veins growing up here in Los Angeles. By the time I was 16 my thinking at the time was less than flattering concerning the Ramones. To this day, in 2022, I still do not feel nostalgic for their sound. I’m opening our visit to the cemetery with this because the gravestone for Carl “Alfalfa” Switzer was sad and weedy.
Can’t say I ever understood the appeal of Valentino, but then again, I wasn’t around in the early 20th century to witness it. Maybe this thing about dying young (he was 31 years old) when audiences think you’ve barely made a mark cements people into extended fame as their death denies the world knowing the extent of their talents?
Most of the names here will be unknown to a majority of people who visit, except for Quentin Tarantino.
Funny, at one moment, I’m saying I have no connection to Valentino and the early 20th century, and yet here I am sharing the simple gravestone of Charlie Chaplin’s mother, Hannah Chaplin. Regarding the Little Tramp, I think I could identify with Chaplin as there always seemed something mischievous and rebellious about not only his famous character but also the man.
The grave of Cecil B. DeMille and his wife. This guy was one of the greats of Hollywood and one of the founders of Paramount Pictures. You didn’t grow up in Southern California and not know of his stature.
As I said, the Art Deco Society put on our tour; great job to the actors who brought us into Hollywood’s past.
It just so happened that a place – not often open to the public – had, for a forgotten reason, unlocked its doors and allowed those of us on this special tour a peek into the Clark Mausoleum.
And that voice from my childhood seems like a good place to leave the Hollywood Forever Cemetery; rest in peace, Mr. Mel Blanc. For those who may not know it, he was the voice of Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, Porky Pig, Barney Rubble, Tweety Bird, Daffy Duck, and Mr. Spacely from the Jetsons movie, which was also his final performance before life told him, “That’s all folks.”
Our friend Mark Shimer then joined us for a bite to eat at GR/Eats, a little cafe opened by the guys behind Giant Robot.
Across the street, it was obvious that we’d visit the Giant Robot shop.
In retrospect, I’m happy we didn’t buy these as they didn’t increase in value.
Boarding a tram for a short ride and our last stop with Mark for the day.
We are at the Getty Museum.
I’ve tried telling Caroline for years that a little “slappy-slappy” has always been enjoyed by damsels and people who live on thrones. She reminds me that she’s not a f$&@ing damsel and that I can dismount my throne and high horse, and still, there will be no “slappy-slappy.”
While it’s not the Trevi Fountain in Rome, there’s something quite elegant about this corner of the museum grounds.
The Deposition is the kind of art from the Middle Ages I can get into.
The Getty Museum is here because Mr. John Paul Getty left his estate to his J. Paul Getty Museum Trust with a mandate that they spend his money.
I’m telling you that Jan Brueghel the Elder knew something about psychedelics; I’m certain of it. This piece is titled The Entry of the Animals into Noah’s Ark, but if you really want to be taken by this man’s work, visit his altarpiece in Colmar, France. You’ll know firsthand that he was dabbling in mushrooms or something.
Striking colors, hints of otherness, the guy in the background wildly gesturing, lots of insects, it all smacks of something dramatic about to happen if you ask me. I can’t be sure that’s what Jan van Huysum tried to convey in this Fruit Piece, but that’s what I’m getting.
Until today, I didn’t even know who Franz Xaver Winterhalter was, but now here I am looking at his work titled Leonilla, Princess of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Sayn.
It’s been gray all day here in the Los Angeles basin, but as you saw from the first photo at the California state line, we did have blue skies to begin with, and it doesn’t matter as we love gray and fog because they are two things almost non-existent in Phoenix, Arizona. And with leaving the Getty Center, Mark bids us adieu, but our Perfect Day is far from over.
Oh yeah, to go where few white men and women tread lets Caroline and I know we’ve found the right place. Dinner is at Ramenya – a Japanese Noodle Shop.
A perfect bowl of ramen.
We have a short bit of time left before the final act of the day, so why not head out on the Santa Monica Pier to listen to the surf roll in, listen in on Arthur Nakane’s 1-Man Band, who was even on Jimmy Kimmel this past February, watch some kids on Dance Dance Revolution, and just enjoy the cool California coastal air.
We ended the night watching Naked in Ashes at the Nuart Landmark Theater and stayed at the Ramona Inn in Little India. This was our Perfect Day.
Caroline and I tried for an early morning start for a visit to Tucson today and were finally underway shortly before 9:00. After nearly a half-hour, we began to leave civilization and enter the natural desert.
Along the way, we pass a few gas stations, an ostrich farm, a nut farm, Picacho Peak State Park which was the site of the furthest west Civil War battle, and quite a few cacti. On the outskirts of Tucson, we pass some lush desert landscapes that are soon to disappear, making way for progress. A nearby sign announces the coming of a new grocery store – goodbye, cactus!
Our first stop of the day is in Oro Valley, just outside of Tucson, to visit the Silvas. Arturo and his family have been friends now for many years. In the photo, Arturo is on the right, his son Arturito (Artoodeetoo) is behind him, and on the left is Arturo’s mother. We pass Guadalupe, Arturo’s wife, as we approach their house, stopping long enough to say hello as she is on her way to take daughters Melissa and Sophia to Sunday School and Church. Our visit was short as Arturito was on his way back to Flagstaff for University after having come down to see a concert featuring Molotov and El Gran Silencio, Arturo needed to join his family at Church, and Caroline and I had primarily come down to catch a couple of movies.
This is the lobby of the Loft Cinema in Tucson, Arizona. We have visited before to see ‘What is it?” by Crispin Glover, but today we were here for a double feature, including the Chinese film 2046 and the Korean film Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. Both films were excellent, although Caroline and I both agreed that we enjoyed 2046 just a bit more. Be careful seeing Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, it is a demanding, violent, even a little slapsticky film that should not be seen by the timid.
This is Clara the Great Dane, along with Chauncey Smith. Tonight was spent with the Smiths, friends we have known for nearly ten years. Chauncey is the youngest of the family, Korey is in the middle, and Kristoffer is the oldest. Clara here is probably the most demanding of attention, and when she throws her weight around, she easily commands it. With her paws on Darrell’s shoulders, she is a good half-foot taller than him. Her tail is a weapon that whips hard enough to leave welts. You get the idea that she is one really big dog, and she is so likable.