No one really likes Meg Whitman, for numerous reasons. So she got the bright idea to open up an office in East L.A. to ‘target’ the Latino community. Frankly, if you’re ‘Latino’ and are voting for Whitman, then your off your rocker. Her office has been picketed since day one and almost once a week by unions, orgs or people that just plain don’t like her. It’s become a regular thing, so much so that her office staff have started counter-protesting. It’s quite hilarious.
I’ve had my fair share of bikes stolen. Usually it happens that one time I stray from my normal routine. Whether it’s locking it up right and in a “safe” location. Putting it inside my house because most bikes are stolen from peoples houses and back yards over night. Point is, theft happens when you fall asleep at the wheel and let your guard down, which is exactly what I did. Granted I had a few chelas and I didn’t want to ride my bike drunk or buzzed because it’s against the law. Even though I only lived a few blocks away, there is no excuse for riding any vehicle drunk. Unless you’re at someones house, then it’s hilarious.
But the point I’m trying to make, which is also a friendly reminder to everyone else too, is to make sure is that you should always secure your bike and be mindful of it. Have a nice, strong lock on it and lock it right. Don’t ride drunk or buzzed, even though I did that once from Chinatown and it was a blast, I could have gotten seriously hurt. And don’t make the mistake I made in thinking that just because you don’t have the best looking bike, no one would want to steal it. Take it from me, these bike thieves will steal ANYTHING. Putos. More and more people have been telling me that they’ve have their rides stolen too. Supply and demand I guess. It’ll take me a while to find another bike, but it’s the principality of the thing you know ? That and me being stupid for one minute, which is all it took. So, learn from my lesson and don’t get too comfortable cause that’s when they’ll get ya. And it sucks that I have to say this because I would like to have faith in people and trust them. But sadly, that’s not the way things are.
FYI ~ My bike was stolen from the front door steps of Corazon del Pueblo Friday evening. It was locked to the light post. It’s a woman’s, red Murray, 10 speed bike. Covered in taxi cab stickers in the back and various others on the frame. It had those plastic things that make noise when you ride. Only one brake on the left hand side, duct take on the left handle bar and went by the name “little kramer.” If you see it, holla at me. It occurred to me to make a report at the Hollenbeck PS, but I realized that the cops had better things to do than worry about my stolen bike.
I was flipping thru the latest issue of the LA Weekly, when I came upon this sad article in which some newbie Canadian gives us his North of that other Border take on LA. Do these people that keep moving to Los Angeles not have any knowledgeable friends here to give them an introduction to the city? Cuz the poor sap wrote his lil’ article with some abysmal word choices.
“South-of-the-border folks, Guatemalan or Mexican perhaps, see the sidewalk vending as a livelihood, cooking sausages and onions on a cold Echo Park night…The sausages steamed; the Echo Park clubgoers, unstoppable with their appetite for music (and sausages), were beautiful.”
Uh, sir, those be hot dogs. Bacon wrapped to be precise.
You can consider me a friend now, guiding you along as you make your way in and out of LA. And another thing…
I grew up on “Yo’ mama …” jokes. In junior high and high school, being able to defend yourself verbally clowning other people on any subject with lighting quick wit meant you escaped some ridicule yourself. Being a little chubby myself, I had a good rapport because I needed to defend myself. I could always hold down my own and there’s only soo many fat jokes someone call tell before they get old.
“Yo’ mama so stupid she got hit by a parked car.”
“Yo’ mama raised you on ugly milk.”
For me, it was never with the intention of making fun of someones mom because we all love our mom’s. It was just the way immature young men communicated with each other in a testosterone driven environment. Anyone else have good “yo’ mama” jokes ? I wanna hear some good ones that I might have not heard before. What were some experiences y’all had growing up with these type of jokes and bagging ?
So you thought you were going to check out the Grito downtown tonight, like you do every couple of years in front of city hall, eh? I sure did. But you forgot that this is the city that thrives on terrible ideas, replacing simple traditions with stupid media events that nobody can enjoy. That’s what’s happening today, the lil’ celebration to mark Mexico’s Independence has been moved to something called the “Nokia Plaza” in the totalitarian wet dream of developers known ridiculously as “LA Live”. A public event moved to private property.
Oh, and you thought you could just show up asi nomas? Ja ja, pero que menso eres! Nope, you have to buy tickets for a show of Los Temerarios, or you can go today to the Mexican Consul to get some wristbands. Because, you know, you don’t have to work or anything.
I’m not at all surprised by this selling out of our Grito tradition, but is anyone else as pissed as I am?
Screw that business, I suggest you go to Huntington Park instead.
As most of you know, I am an art activist regarding the femicides in Ciudad Juarez. After a caravan to and 3 day protest in Ciudad Juarez in early 2002, I came back to LA with a fervor for creating art and inviting others to join me in this dialogue—but mostly my choice of art as an activist tool was out of desperation to help in whatever way I could.
I have met many revolucionarias and revolutionarios on this long-ass, no-light-at-the-end- of-the-tunnel road. Many of the activists I have met are victim mothers and artists (like me) that dedicate many of their hours trying to figure out how to end these seemingly senseless murders through our words, our research, our writings, our appeals, our pleas, and our diligence not to forget these families. Its one step forward and one step back most times.
My friend and El Paso Times reporter Diana Washington Valdez (who I have mentioned many times on LAeastside) sent me a copy of her recent article for the newspaper. This week, which should be the most joyous and celebratory time for all Mexicans everywhere, because its the 100th anniversary of the 1910 Mexican Revolution—comes with a morbid reminder that drugs and power fuel the dark forces. They are the killers of any ray of hope and fairness in the world.
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So let me get this straight, for years the city has fought tooth and nail to condemn these culinary chimeras because of health and safety reasons. Some of the reasons behind this are that the vendors aren’t licensed and governed by the health department, their grills are not safe to cook on and because you can’t be grilling out in the open, they are undermining businesses that pay all kinds of taxes and taking away their business and because it’s just against the law. blah, blah, blah, blah it’s the same rhetoric over and over again. Well, Farmer John is funding a campaign to make the Bacon Wrapped Hot Dog THE OFFICIAL HOT DOG of L.A. Hmm … I’m not sure how this is gonna work, but for every vote they donate a pound of food to a food bank, so I guess that’s a good thing. If the hot dog does become official, I guess we’ll see a “gourmet” lunch truck selling them pretty soon, offering organic hot dogs with bacon. I haven’t been to the art walk in a while, maybe there’s already one out there, who knows. But what I do know is that this isn’t gonna happen and the bacon wrapped hot dog will remain the UNOFFICIAL hot dog of L.A. If the city makes this legit, then they’re full of shit, more so than they already are. It’s just another chapter in the story of how L.A. loves, hates, loves street vendors. Give us your delicious food so when can condemn you later for selling it.
In order for this post and semi-rant post to make sense, please watch this clip from Democracy Now, in which the documentary, “Yo Soy El Army: America’s New Military Caste,” a film about the military targeting Latinos, is discussed. You can watch the first part of the clip by clicking here. After you watch the first part, play the video at the top and skip to 3:55 in which the discussion shifts to the DREAM Act being a back door military draft.
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Hardly iconic
Lincoln Heights is proud home to a new youth center creatively placed in an inspired adaptive re-use of an historic church. I have yet to go inside but I hear it’s on the smallish side. No matter, the neighborhood needs more places where consumer consumption is not involved and youth are allowed.
I have one small bone to pick though, and I will digress a moment to let you know I have at times, been labeled an “aesthetic tyrant” for my critical proclamations of design, but what’s up City of Los Angeles with these tired old park signs? They might’ve looked good in the 80s or 70s or whenever they were first put together but nowadays they look just plain fuddy-duddy. The outdated thick italic font, the faux wood with pale mustard trim, it’s so…uninviting. It’s time for a make-over. I know, I know, the city is in one of the worst financial crisis in it’s history but still, graphic designers can’t be that expensive. I know a few that need work…
Each day we witness matters that mesh in our subconsciousness, swim around, merge and become ideas. Anyway, maybe that’s the way I think. Yesterday was difficult.
When I went to collect the mail at work yesterday morning, I noticed that the small bakery & cafe across the street was empty. I was not a frequent customer, but had a 13 year neighborhood relationship with the owner. Although a 4 lane street separates us on the 6000 block of Pico, we know each other and wave hello through the traffic and noise. We are a Jewish temple, a nightclub, a cafe, a new age store, a Yeshiva School, a home decor shop, an Indian grocery store, a Muslim cultural center, a beauty shop, a Gypsy psychic, a glass store, a hamburger stand and a cleaners. A typical block of mom & pop businesses in LA, with our neighborhood gossip, occasional fights, shared joys, emergency network, and 9-5 friendships.
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Its one thing for people to use some of the pictures I put online for their own purposes. A link back is the nice thing to do, though they often forget these basic manners. But its quite another when some lousy and supposed legitimate “news” racket borrows my stuff and they don’t acknowledge the source. And it’s even worse when its used for a purpose completely different then the original intent.
Take for example the pricks at Fox 11.
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