Inexplicably flocking and circling the REI outlet, twenty miles from the ocean. Or so one might think. Rudimentary Wiki-browsing suggests this might not be so unusual. Gulls are kleptoparastic by nature, and have been known to gather where the getting is easy, e.g., shopping centers with patio restaurants. A closer inspection of the roof line reveals an absence of anti-pigeon spikes. Nature abhors a vacuum.
4 PM, Valentine’s Day…clusters of teenage girls….hair neatly ironed, good shoes on, bling phone tucked into the pocket of their best jeans, clutching heart-shaped balloons….happily getting mauled by lunkish boys in sagging cargo shorts and droopy skater pants.
Let’s see…how many days until I can have a Bombay Sapphire Martini again? Oh, that’s right, 40. Wait a minute, March 31st….that’s longer than 40 days! They don’t count Sundays? Hardly seems fair. They get to pass the plate, but I don’t get credit for time served? Could that bag under my right eye be any bigger? That’s a double bag. Like one bag made a hammock out of the bag below it and went on a permanent siesta. Please tell me there’s a procedure for that, one that won’t make me look like Bruce Jenner. Something affordable. Holy guacomole, are you listening to yourself? Vanity, all is vanity! Repent! Yeah, like that worked so well last year…what kind of hamster wheel have you put yourself on, anyway? Did I just say hamster wheel? Christ has entered the desert and you’re complaining? You should repent for that. Double repentance! This is exhausting. Time for bed.
He followed her up the 170, under a gray sky…but she kept flooring it, putting distance between them. Erroneously, he chased her down the Roscoe offramp, only to find himself stranded at a red light next to a bus bench across from Grace Church.
He made haste for the freeway. She was just getting further away.
From the dog bed in the garage to the fenceline in three seconds. Nevertheless! Eager to make friends as Giles passes by. Gotta love the mug on this guy.
Fernando. Not a saint, but a namesake.
Freddy contemplates simple pleasures after a day of yard work, his first Tuesday at home in eighteen years.
A short walk through beautiful downtown Reseda:
Postcard courtesy of Valley Relics
Classic rock albums were once recorded here. You can learn all about it in Dave Grohl’s new documentary.
From the Daily News:
“I am a total Valley Girl,” Grohl clarified. “I love living in the Valley. My wife was born and raised in the Valley.” How did that happen to, arguably, grunge rock’s biggest icon?
“I moved to Los Angeles in 1997 and lived in Laurel Canyon for a year,” Grohl added. “Basically, I just drank my way through the Sunset Strip and (slept with) anything with a pulse and then I thought, yeah, I gotta get outta here.”
After some time out of state, it was a recording studio conversation with fellow musician Beck that convinced Grohl to settle north of the hills.
“There’s that funny stigma that is the San Fernando Valley, that it’s not a cool place to live,” Grohl noted. “I never understood that.
“So when Beck said `I think I’m gonna move out of Silver Lake.’ I said, `Dude! Valley! You’ve gotta go Valley.’ And the engineer in the studio said `The Valley? You don’t want to live in the Valley.’ And I said, `Well, why?’ And he said, `Because it’s the f— Valley!’
“That’s when I realized, that’s exactly where I want to live. Let everybody have the other side of the hill. I have the f— Valley! I love it here, it’s great.”