Squeaky Wheel


Last week, in the run-up to the city council election, I posted of the ongoing problem of the crackhead encampment blocking the Bear Mural on Roscoe Blvd.

Two days later, the crackheads were gone.

Whisked away, as though by some kind of municipal rapture.  Only tagging and little heaps of discarded clothing remained.

I’m not sure how I feel about this.

To have a cranky blog post turn the gears of the City machinery in a helpful direction is…satisfying on the one hand.  On the other….really? Really? This has been going on for over a year. I tag Nury Martinez’s name on election eve and suddenly somebody who matters picks up the phone and calls Street Services?

Okay, I choose to be grateful.  Full props to whoever made the call, whatever the motivation.

I have keyboard, hear me squeak.

Snapshots of Sepulveda and Roscoe

Three photos,  one intersection, 20 seconds apart.  Thursday afternoon, 5:53 pm, while crossing Sepulveda on my bike.

Napping outside Fatburger,
Catatonic on the sidewalk outside Fatburger
Fatherhood. Why don't more men do this?
Fatherhood. Why don’t more men do this?
Flores, para su esposa
Flores, para su esposa

Degradation, honor and hustling for dollars co-exist within one hundred feet of each other. The welfare state vs. the family. The working class surrounded by the products which will kill them early.  A mid-Valley triptych.