Category Archives: East Los

Shepard Fairey Still Climbing Over

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In a stroke of genius, international graphic artist (from South Carolina), Shepard Fairey invents a new genre of art.  He coins the term “ChikanNOh” to describe this new artwork that draws from Mesoamerican myths and iconography, which he said, popped into his head when he was eating a maize round cake filled with meat, lettuce, cheese and tomatoes (in Hollywood).  In this new body of work Fairey attempts to unravel and support a fictitious place he calls Awshlawn (pronounced azLAN), where he will mentally dwell to contemplate this–his latest artistic break through.  Some of his ideas are to create art that turns away from the Eurocentric, because Europe is obviously overdone.  It is rumored that Art Forum Magazine will dedicate an unheard-of feature spread of 40 pages to extol this latest, ambitious and important work by the up and still climbing over us Fairey.  Pictured above, Fairey marks his newly opened art studio, which he says will be the birthplace of his latest ChikanNOh artwork venture.

By Wynona Richfield

If you build it, they will come and maybe get hurt

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Continuing their campaign to raise pedestrian awareness, Metro is going to have ambassadors all week at different spots in East Los dishing out information about rail safety. I would have posted this earlier, but I got caught up with “things.” For more information about all the other stuff happening with the gold line extension, you can go to metro’s web site for the Eastside extension.  They also have this interesting map called “Eastside Flavors.” It’s kinda outdated because they still have the Homegirl Cafe listed and they’ve been gone since they relocated to Chinatown. They mention all the local spots near by around every station so it’s an ok map I guess. The gold line is almost here and the anticipation is KILLING me.     

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Ramblin’ On My Mind: I’m A Man. But, You Can’t Call Me That.

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I always like the story that the term “man” as a slang gesture of affection or recognition came into vogue through jazz musicians of the 1940’s. That Gillespie, Parker and Miles used the term to destroy the humiliating use of “boy” is a powerful demonstration. We’ll just make up our own shit. Better, let’s call ourselves what we are.

I read this comment from El Chavo and it jarred a few memories:

BTW, I hate that fake bonding shit: I get some people in my work environment calling me ‘bro’ or even ‘brother,’ like I know them or something. It makes me want to punch them.

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FROM BEYOND

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I drove by this place recently on Beverly Blvd. east of Atlantic, and I was intrigued by what appeared to be a very unique kind of video rental store. The décor and Horror film imagery of the storefront had me wondering; “Could this be a specialized, horror/cult film genre video store in E.L.A? The kind of place I dream about? –Wow!” Continue reading →

THEY’VE F@#*ED IT UP!

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The landmark street sign for long time Eastside favorite “CHRONI’S FAMOUS SANDWICH SHOP” recently fell victim to a “hostile makeover.”

The former original version had featured a flickering neon outline that animated the doggie’s wagging tail and tongue. The new flat paint job reduces the sign to a shadow of it’s former self. By simply filling in the original outlines with bright primary colors instead of attempting to restore the original design, the management continues to further alienate us purists by continuing a string of Chroni’s atrocities such as putting lettuce in the hamburgers.

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As an avid preservationist and historian, I lament yet another loss of our city’s original flavor. My only consolation at this point is that I had managed to document images of the original version.

The original Chroni’s sign now becomes yet another bit of L.A. history that we’ll have to find in some future coffee table book. (Sigh) At least we’ll have the pictures, and the memories…………….

Mexica New Year 09 @ Self Help Graphics

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Mexica New Year @ Self Help Graphics 09

Me : Hey ! I saw Rosannas facebook and it said there’s aztec dancers at Self Help right now, is it still going on? 

Victoria : Yeah dude I was there earlier it was crazy. 

Me  : So why didn’t you tell me or announce it !?

Victoria : I forgot. I’m too busy writing up blog post that I can’t keep track of everything. 

Me : Yeah cause you post SOO much hahahah

Victoria : Anyway I though you worked on the weekends ?

Me : I do, I just got out and I was checking facebook through my phone at work. So i’d figure I’d call you and get the down low. 

Victoria : Well go down and check it out. I bet your girlfriend Pachuco 3000 will be there. I know you guys hang out together as if your lovers.

Me : Sigh…just cause we hang out every now and then doesn’t mean we’re lovers. Besides I’m sure he’s up to something already. 

Victoria : Ohhh I see.

Me : So did I wake you up just now ?

Victoria : Not really. I was taking a power nap because I rode my bike six miles today. Man my ass hurts.

Me : Damn !! you rode around that much ?!?!

Victoria : Nah, I have an exercise bike in my house. My knees are killing me tambien

Me : Ohh so is there anything else going on tonight ?

Victoria : Umm I’m not sure, but I’ll just end up staying home or doing something.

Me : Aight. I’ma head down to self help then and go take pictures.

Victoria : Ok puez. Give us your report about it.  

Follow the link to see my report….

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In Quotes: “What’s Good for Boyle Heights”

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Working Class Historian Gifford Hartman (a white guy that grew up in East Los by the way) sent me this link to a fascinating piece about the Jewish influence on radical politics and multiculturalism in Boyle Heights during the 1950’s. For those interested in the history of the Eastside, it’s a must read. There’s lots of good quotes I could pull but this has to be my favorite:

Frumkin already saw the distinction between his community of Boyle Heights and the growing Jewish community on the Westside in 1945. There was “an unspoken solidarity among all the neighbors” on the Eastside, including the 60 percent of his neighbors who were Mexican. “We never had a lock on our door, never had a key. You just didn’t do it. I don’t know if it was unspoken, but as poor as we were, nobody stole from anybody else.” In this working-class solidarity, a certain level of contempt was reserved for the more middle-class surroundings on the Westside.

“When we would smoke, for instance, we would keep the cigarettes in the car. We would never dump them out in East L.A. When we used to go to West L.A. to the Jewish Community Center to dances, we’d dump all our ashtrays out, because we knew the streets were going to be cleaned there. But we never did it here.”

Wow, even in the 50’s people were complaining about the disparity of service in our communities. Some things never change. Is ashtray micro-resistance an action we can learn from our Eastside ancestors? It couldn’t hurt!

The full title of the article is “What’s Good for Boyle Heights Is Good for the Jews”: Creating Multiculturalism on the Eastside during the 1950s by George J. Sanchez

Download the pdf from Muse here

or from us at LA Eastside here

The Rough Rider

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Get your mind outta the gutter you freaks !!! This is a family site. Ok. So last week I paid a visit to the staff of the Roosevelt High newspaper, The Rough Rider. And lemme tell ya, these kids have moxie. I’ve ran into a few of them here and there, mostly at the classic because as a reporter, we can smell our own kind. The nature of my visit was to talk about how the media portrays undocumented residents and how I, as an undocumented resident, use the media to champion my crusade. That’s what I should have talked about, but when I get the spot light I tend to trail off. In fact, the whole time I was there I spent it talking about my life experiences, how I hustle my writing and other adventures I’ve lived through. 

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The Magic is in the Meat

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Torta review by Victoria Kraus

If you haven’t already discovered East L.A.’s best kept torta secret, you can stop shelling out your precious American dollars for crap and start getting more for your money, at least Monday through Saturday between 11:30 a.m. and 7 p.m.  Taco Real is nestled in the business complex on Mednik and 3rd in East L.A., across the street from the East Los Angeles Civic Center.  A few doors down from the franchises Coffee Bean and Quizno’s, this small-sized kitchen and four-stool counter seating is a secret waiting to explode on the LA Weekly and Times foodie scene.  I’ve been a loyal biweekly, sometimes weekly, customer for over a year now.  I stumbled upon Taco Real in January 2008 unwillingly on my way to work.  I thought it was another one of those Mexican food places that are too many in East LA.  I was debating whether to eat a familiar Quizno’s sub that would be pseudo-satisfactory or try something different.  I took a leap of faith and went into Taco Real, indulging myself with the best freakin’ torta on the planet.  I took a bite of my first Taco Real order – a carne asada torta – in front of Victor, the restaurant’s owner and fellow Roosevelt H.S. alum.  I could not believe a simple six dollar Mexican sandwich would satisfy me beyond description.  It was better than any overpriced $10+ gourmet sandwich or panini at a chic Los Feliz/Silverlake café.  I told Victor that I’ve had many a torta but this torta was magic.  “It’s the meat, man,” I told him.  “I can taste the quality.”  He said I nailed it on the head.

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Carwash Compadres

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Assumption youth group, Boyle Heights (1970s)

My parents met in the early 70s when they were both active members of the Assumption Church youth group and choir. They never left the tight-knit group as some of the members were their own siblings and became lifelong friends and compadres.

When they got married in 1977, several of the kids from the group got all dolled up and joined the large wedding party. Thirteen couples! I think my mom was still sore about not having a quinceañera.

Late the next year, my parents welcomed their first son, Danny. Of course, he had to be baptized. Danny’s padrinos were los Padilla, a couple my parents had met and befriended in the youth group. He was baptized at Assumption, as were the rest of us kids even though our home parish was in Hacienda Heights. They were now more than friends, they were compadres.

Growing up, I saw the youth group members — whom my parents called los Marcianos — frequently for birthday parties and camping trips. Somewhere along the way, the visits became less frequent. The last time I saw many of the Marcianos (save for my tío Johnny, seated in red) was for my Madrina Bertha’s funeral five years ago. Los Marcianos and their now grown children gathered at a church in Lincoln Heights for the Mass. They recreated the choir of their teens and early 20s, but this time the songs were much sadder. It was quite the bittersweet reunion.