To escape this heat without end, I took the bike to the beach yesterday. After my ride, I topped myself off with a $20 kale smoothie on Abbot Kinney.
Twenty dollars! Strip club prices. Decadent. I’m sure I didn’t even spend that much on a premium cocktail at the posh Nomad Hotel last year but tis the season to do all we can to help small business.
The merchants of Venice are doing their utmost to bridge the distance between the necessities of commerce in a time of Wuhan, and paying obeisance to the woke mob, lest it erupt again in greater strength.
It’s a balancing act, meeting your monthly nut with limited customers while conducting socially performative capitalism.
Here’s the Abbot Kinney Straddle: make rich Wypipo as invisible as possible while marketing to said rich Wypipo.
Part of the gloss requires overlooking ironic facts…much of bungalow Venice was a black neighborhood not so long ago. It was also single story. Here I shall invoke UpintheValley’s Second Law of the City: the further from the actual friction points of urban life, the louder the virtue signaling.
In a synthesis of the cognitive dissonance in summer 2020, someone converted a vintage Porsche into a planter as an artistic statement…of indeterminate meaning. Guerilla marketing for a local garden store? Maybe. The backdrop for a fashion shoot? People assumed it was some kind of pop-up Instagram and queued up to pose in front of it.
While not as badly hit as DTLA or Melrose, about a third of the stores have gone dark…
…which might explain this banner. If the statement were true, though, would the banner be necessary? I sense a whiff of desperation. I have a feeling things are about to get cheaper.
On other end of the economic spectrum, 72 years after being cut from citrus orchards as a whites-only landing pad for returning GIs, 50 years after man landed on the moon, 30 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, thirteen years after the iPhone, my neighborhood this morning finally enjoys the benefit of street lighting.
We’re 17 miles from Venice. Hard to believe it’s the same city. There’s an upside to this. In the shakeout to come, we have a much shorter distance to fall. Our neighborhood doesn’t depend on $20 smoothies and sales of $150 graphic tees. We aren’t glossy. We are anti-fragile.