Last night I went to a show @ the now pretty well known venue, The Smell by bicycle. It’s a 5.5mi ride one-way for me, not too far and mostly flat terrain. I was going mainly to see a favorite band of mine, Abe Vigoda.
Now to the point. Riding into downtown, alone, is always an interesting experience. In a large group, or even with a few friends it seems like an open playground compared to the daytime version. The city looks so much more peaceful and almost ghost-town like at dark. I got to the show around 9pm and left around 1:30am. The ride home was the interesting part.
I go down Main St. most of the way. As I was pushing my pedals I couldn’t help but think, in my wearied state, whether the people I saw out on the streets were real or ghosts. The folks hanging outside of Dino’s Burgers, the woman I swear I saw at the little Catholic Gift Shop on Main St., and the man I think I saw walking around the darkened Parque de México.
This idea became even more pervasive as I passed by Lincoln Park. I thought about the history of the place and all the many people that have been there for various reasons. At 1:30 in the morning you have late-nite fishers. I’m not sure why someone would want to be fishing at that hour, but they were there. They weren’t ghostly at all but some shadows amongst the trees seemed otherwise. Looking across the train tracks on the South side of Valley Blvd heading East I am sure I also so see meandering shadows.
History is something that can easily be built over and forgotten, and some people even welcome it as is the case with the Chuppies that El Chavo! pointed out. But it’s something I find so much interest in. A house that I am soon moving in to in Lincoln Heights used to be a market many years ago, originally built in 1915, and still has remnants of a butcher shop & old refrigerator. There is no way I would replace it for a track home in Ranco Cucamonga. No way.
All these thoughts as I make my way home to El Sereno.