It’s available at local stores all over the Eastside, ECHO PARK and SILVER LAKE. I was trying to post them up, but those damn pdf files take forever to load, so yeah. We’re going to be at the Gallo Bakery celebration passing out copies and stuffing our faces with 10 cent conchitas. Stop by and say hi and who knows, you may get a special surprise. (Special surprise not guaranteed.)Â
Okay, it can’t be that bad. Let me tell you what it reads:
1. Sevende ropa exclusiva interior para hombre.
2. Masaje de hombre para hombres y mujeres, que quieran salir de la rutina experimentar algo nuevo, llamadas serias por favor $ open
And if you read between the lines (literally) in english it reads:
Sale interior man ander weres different sizes & models.
Man to man masage women’s welcom IM BI
And if you read between the lines figuratively, it’s an ad for sex, complete with phone number and address. Sex for pay is nothing new but I thought it was a bit desparate to see it at a crosswalk, with so much information on where to get these services. And I thought knock-on-my-door-pupusas were brazen! Salir de la rutina indeed.
Sas!
PS. info blurred to protect the job seeker.
The infamous tumbleweeds of Lincoln Heights. This one was found at the foot of Holgate Square.
Botanitas is an ongoing feature bringing you stories and news from various sources, upcoming events and other bits of ephemera that might be of interest to LA Eastside readers. Suggestions welcome!
Read below for ten-cent conchitas, North Broadway nightlife, CNN tacos, the Eastside extension, details on who is Taking Over and a bonus guilty pleasure!
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A conversation has been growing concerning whether we should be promoting our beloved Eastside and all its treasures for others to come over here and like it so much that they move here and bring their gentrifying ways with them.
Some say we need to use our voice to tell about our streets from our P.O.V because they are coming either way and they will begin writing about our streets from their P.O.V and will bring their fellow gentrifiers anyways.
Others say we should keep the fear of the Eastside alive and tell folks who ask about all the gangs and drugs and loud parties all weekend with banda music and other ‘weird’ music playing all night, which usually end in gun shots, celebratory or not.
Other voices say we need keep it secret and not tell them so they won’t come and outsider will coninutally believe we are full of gangs and stuff they don’t want near.
I remember meeting one of the first few gentrifiers of Echo Park saying he liked it because he “liked to get dirt under his finger nails.” You know because Echo Park is soooo dirrrrty. It made me think I didn’t want that type coming to BH, so everytime I see someone who looks lost or not from BH I look at them and when they see me, I eye ball a local, homefully a homeboy and give him a nod and then do that chin point at the non native and nod as in “You see that foo’, right. You know what we gotta do.” Usually I don’t see them come back. Luckily Sleepy is always walking up and down my block looking to help a se~ora bring in her trash cans or help with groceries or something for a couple of bucks. When Sleepy turns on his vato loco face it’s ON.
I like writing about what I see on my streets like the beautiful gente, our traditions, how we adapt and change, deal and see life, struggle and survive, get by and thrive, but I am aware that sometimes I do sound like a promoter and my words could be used to sell BH to peeps who never even heard about it.
One of the homies said we are can’t have ‘security by obscurity’ they are coming, we are on the map. I hope we can keep them at bay with fuchi faces and homies like Sleepy who walk around and keep them second guessing.
What do you think?
If you want something else to read, check out this post I did about a new mural in LH. I guess I could have posted it here. Oh well.
Ji Chou 己丑-Year of the Ox-æ–°å¹´å¿«ä¹
It’s the Lunar New Year’s Eve and here in Lincoln Heights, the normally dark houses are lit, the front doors are open, the altars are decorated and the smell of incense wafts through the streets. The firecrackers started up around 4pm. They are not so numerous as in years past when the rat-tat-tat seemed to go on endlessly for days ahead of time and the acrid smoke drifted in the windows. Perhaps US customs is much stricter with checking for illicit cargo or maybe many of the Chinese and Vietnamese families have moved on to the easterly suburbs such as my neighbors who recently moved to Rowland Heights.
It’s not uncommon for people to sell stuff from their homes in working class communities; every little bit helps to make ends meet. And I don’t mean ebay either, though I bet that computer route is getting popular too. Often it’s food items, sold mostly via a mobile setup (ala eloteros, tamaleros, etc) or from a makeshift outdoor kitchen that hangs the open sign during the evening dinner rush. I’ve known of places where you can knock on the door and ask for a plate of something, and the lady would get to cooking. But since these sorts of kitchens are probably illegal, they were kept kinda quiet, advertising being done by word of mouth. But I guess things are really getting rough: in Lincoln Heights, Jose the pupusa vendor put up a sign with his phone and Apt. number so you can purchase some of his $1.50 Salvadoran treats. “Savado y Domingo Solamente.”
When you don’t have a trust fund to fall back on, parents that can pay your rent or front you the money for a house, an inheritance that’s just a heartbeat away, the right connections, or the various forms of plan B middle class people crazily assume everyone has, then you learn to be resourceful. Hats off to Jose and his knock-on-my-door pupusa solution, a self-bailout plan that we can all emulate!
Back around the time I attended Griffith Jr. High School in E.L.A., I recall that Hickeys were all the rage. A sort of Red Badge of Dishonor if you will. Some kids would wear them proudly,… Continue reading
Lately I’ve been going to work early in the morning, 6 a.m. early and that’s WAY too early for this hibernating bear. Even though I only work three days a week thanks to “La Crisis.” That’s why I stop at Jim’s Burgers and grab myself a sunrise burrito and a cup of joe. I know I’ve mentioned them before, but the burrito is soo good that it deserves a post of its own. Sometimes it’s so cold in the morning that I can see the steam float from the burrito at every bite. Almost as if the taste/aroma of the burrito is enticing me to take another bite outta of it, like in old looney toons cartoons when the aroma would form a hand and grab the character and smack them up side the head. That’s how it feels eating a burrito of this caliber so damn early in the morning. Hell, by the time I get there, there’s already a few old timers eating and talking shit like it’s just another day on the job. Last week as I was scarfing down my burrito, I noticed a father and son walk outta the place together. The kid was about seven to 10 years old. Both him and his dad got into their truck getting ready to deliver tortillas. Just watching them pass me by like that took me back to the days when my father and I were hustlin’. Getting up early to beat the traffic, getting our shit together and grabbing a bite to eat before we had to handle the days business. Amazing how the simple act of eating a burrito early in the morning can evoke such powerful memories and emotions. Damn that burrito is good. Â
1901 E 1st St.
Los Angeles, CAÂ
(323) 266-3886 Â Â Â Â
Before Flaming Hot Cheetos, Eastside kids coveted these – especially the saladitos with chile. They were sometimes eaten a little at a time and some of the macho kids bravely managed to consume them whole. I’m sure you can still find these all over the place but this package was bought at one of the last Japanese-American markets in the South San Gabriel area, Tozai Foods.
Tricks Are For Kids is a series based on the ramblings of an LAUSD substitute teacher. A former “regular” teacher in East L.A., CT opted for the mercenary-for-hire approach, after realizing Saturdays and Sundays also did not belong to him. Less cash money but more time to waste, he means, for himself. Tell him the options, again? He made his choice and there is no going back. “I’m going in!!” Now, live and uncut, so far, a drop-out teacher drops dime on the nonsense.
Dumb Interviewer: You’ve been in show business for awhile, so how old are you?
Dana Carvey: I’m 33 but I read at a 35 year old level.
So, the Miss had to leave prematurely due to a health situation. Old-school vet of some thirty years, most of ’em at Rooselvelt.
Could be seen as stoic and in fact some students, mainly girls, described her as this curmudgeon. Most boys got along fine with her. Her stoicism, when broken with a gigantic smile, was funny. I never really got a grip on her background but believe she had some Eastern European blood (thinking Serbian), and her manner sometimes reminded me of Eastern European Olympic athletes.
One thing I always liked about LH is the ingenuity you see when it comes to being creative with very little resources. This is one prime example. I saw it outside of the local Lincoln Heights Library. Furry & complete with huge plastic skull to scare off cholo ghosts, probably. I’m sure this cost about less than $10 to decorate but priceless when it comes to badassness. I was going to wait to see who was the owner, so that I can take a picture of this bike with her/him, but alas I had to go.
Another photo after the jump.