LA Eastside

Inspired by  the “My Favorite Weekend” column in the LAT Calendar, I give you my version of:

 MY FAVORITE E.L.A WEEKEND

BY AL DESMADRE

EASTSIDE PENDÉJO

Hiking in the Hollywood Hills with my Labs? Brunch in Malibu? A movie at the Grove? Shopping in trendy Los Feliz boutiques or Pottery Barn? Wine bars & Sushi? NO MÁMES!!!

This is my favorite East L.A. Weekend:

SABADO GIGANTE

Saturday morning I’ll usually call my Compadre Fermín to come over and give me a jump start. We’ll work on the car till noon or until we get hungry then we’ll call over the  Shopping Cart Guy with The best Elótes and Chicharrónes in the neighborhood. My compadre will usually run down to Safety Liquors for some cold brews and we’ll kick it old school with some 8-tracks of Oldies but Goodies Vols. 1-10 and some Johnny Chíngas while we wash, detail and primer his bomb. Lately, I’ve been having problems with my car’s muffler, so we might head over to “EL PEDORRERO” on Whittier Blvd. for an inspection.

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Over at Metblogs L.A., Cutter is making a short film about bicycles and he needs your help:

[P]art of the production involves shooting a bicycle chase in and around the eastern neighborhoods of Downtown Los Angeles.

. . .

We’re also shooting in Chinatown and in Boyle Heights. One of the potential locations included the beautiful Mariachi Square, but after scouting in that neighborhood I discovered that the Square is under construction and every street in a 1-block radius has been closed to through traffic.

Foiled!

So the question I put to you, faithful readers is this: What are some of the lesser known but no less interesting and distinctive East La/Boyle Heights/Downtown landmarks that might lend themselves to being photographed?

What locations do you suggest, Eastsiders? I think the Sears at Soto & Olympic is perfect, especially at night, when the sign at the top of the tower is lit and shines EARS (on one side, I think) to Boyle Heights. Leave suggestions here or over at Metblogs!

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The City of Los Angeles has declared today to be Ruben Salazar Day to coincide with the release of the United States Postal Service stamp that commemorates his life and work.

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Where’s your favorite taco truck spot?
I totally understand if you don’t want to blow up the spot and spoil it but the way things are looking we might be taco truck-less soon.

I don’t mind, so I’ll share the love.
I’m not originally from Los Angeles so I only have my hood to go by and my favorite spot for sure is the Taco Zone truck posted up on Alvarado in front of Vons (Silverlake/Echo Park).

You know how some spots might only be the move for a certain type of taco or has so so tacos but amazing salsa or vice versa? Well the zone for me, is the move for it all. Bonus is that its all women working in there.

On the rare occasion my body craves red meat I gots to get into the zone, Taco Zone that is.

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I’ve tried my best to tolerate this new bike Kulture that has made camp in LA, attempted to see the positive aspects it can contribute to our city, but more and more I just can’t stand the way it manifests itself. And it saddens me to see how such a great idea can turn into shit so quickly: a practical and healthy option that challenges the car culture devolves into a sanctimonious act of liberal defiance, doused with a heavy dose of machismo. I’m pretty sure I’ll regret writing this but fuck it; the unnecessary baggage of an otherwise worthy goal needs to be called out.

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Are dorks are the new ‘cool kids?’

It would seem so. Everyone wants to be a dork, or a nerd, and they claim it loudly and proudly.

I blame it on “Napoleon Dynamite” for starting this trend. Because it is a trend that people without a real sense of self usually fall in and out of all the time. The subsequent Judd Apatow films with lead characters as dorks and “Juno” I hope kill off this trend. Yet I still like dorks more than their countreparts ‘label whores.’ You know the ones that think life is really about who and what you wear to where.

Why do I care? I don’t know. I’m just tired of people claiming “I’m a dork, I know” or, “I’m such a nerd!” As if that excuses your ill social skills. Real dorks and nerds don’t say that, they just live it. It wouldn’t be ‘ironic’ when a real dork/nerd says it, anyways.

I do think that if you blog you are a nerd or dork, or a dweeb, with a big sense of self importance, but that’s just me.

Maybe that is why we don’t have too many dorks or nerds on the Eastside!

Maybe I’m just feeling the collective hangover from yesterday’s 4/20 celebrations?

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Nuevo Plato Vegetariano

I’m lucky that my favorite Mexican restaurant happens to be right here in Lincoln Heights, the phenomenal El Huarachito. I’ve been going to the restaurant since it was a tiny shoe box and diners would have to cram themselves Tetris-style into the 3 small tables that served as a dining room. In the past few years, the restaurant has expanded taking over the shoe repair business next door (who repairs shoes nowadays?) and even with the added room, the place still gets packed!

Vegetarians, rejoice!

The owner and cook, a proud Jalisciense, puts much time, consideration and care into her dishes. She frequently asks her diners what they think of the food and is quick to recommend menu items and unadvertised specials of the day. Thanks to her ever growing vegetarian clientèle, she has challenged herself to create new entrees to please our non-carnivorous palates. Today I had the good fortune to try her very new vegetarian dish (doesn’t have a name yet) “Nuevo Plato Vegetariano.”

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College was an interesting experience for me, because I really hated it.

I meet teenage women of color at times (I give back and that crap, so I volunteer at places) and they think I’m so neat and they are impressed that I went to college and want to know what school I went to. I get conflicted as to what to tell them. Should I tell them the truth? My truth seems so harsh.

Most people of color always say this, “I loved college it made me such a better person and blah, blah, I was so happy to have the opportunity to learn to kiss ass properly.”

I hate the taste of ass.

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I don’t live on the Eastside, neither the actual Eastside nor the area confused transplants mis-label as the Eastside.

I’m squarely on the Westside. I’ve lived here for the last 10 years while going to school and working at UCLA. I’ve never even lived on the Eastside. I grew up east of East LA in an unincorporated town of the San Gabriel Valley, Hacienda Heights.

Like a lot of LA-area Latinos, I have close ties to Boyle Heights and Lincoln Heights despite never having lived in the area.

When my maternal grandfather, José, first came to work to LA in the 1940s, he lived in Lincoln Heights. José took the street cars to work to orchards in the valley and would watch movies at the theaters on Broadway. Several years later, he’d bring the rest of the family north. First, they’d leave Zacatecas for Tijuana. Then when everyone got their papers in order they migrated from Tijuana to LA. The first home they lived in was in Lincoln Heights. José worked as a gardener, my grandma Antonia helped.

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East Side Story, Vol 9

The last few years have been frustrating for those of us on the Eastside. I’ve been on many a Los Angeles blog explaining, defending and educating folks on why certain parts of the city shouldn’t be called the Eastside. Despite testimonials, historical references and other persuasive truths, there are many who choose to keep using the term Eastside inappropriately. Putting aside the geographical debate, it’s important for many to realize the cultural connection many Mexicans and Chicanos have to the term Eastside.

For those of us who have grown up in these neighborhoods, “Eastside” is a more than just a place, it’s been a cultural signifier. It represents the communities and the cultures of folks who have lived in Boyle Heights, Lincoln Heights, City Terrace and the great Easterly Beyond. The term Eastside has been used to describe many sorts of cultural innovations emanating from the people east of the river. One of my favorites is a series of albums from the 70s called East Side Story.

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