Archive for July, 2010

Faded and torn and worn, the time finally came to retire our Old Glory  and replace her with a new one, pictured above. Funny though, I couldn’t bring myself to throw out the old one, purchased on September 12,2001 and proudly waved since. And though I believe you’re technically supposed to burn old flags rather than just pitch them into the recycle bin, I wasn’t about to do that either (for nostalgic reasons as well as what I’m sure are municipal statutes against backyard-based incineration).

So I did the only thing I could do:

I was greeted this pre-dawn with a tweet from my friend Walt, saddened by the death of the man well-known as the Silver Lake Walker, otherwise known to his patients as Dr. Marc Jacobs.

In shock and abject sadness over the sudden loss of such a fixture of the neighborhood I then went about posting up on a bit of what he meant to me as a treasured community icon who I encountered numerous times since moving to Silver Lake in 2003, such as in the series of images above (click for the bigger picture), captured as he passed by me and other cyclists outside Trader Joe’s as we readied for a ride.

I’m going for a walk today at lunch in honor of him.

UPDATE (3:46 p.m.): Well, I did it. Took an extended lunch and logged five miles walking in honor of Dr. Abrams, stopping at Trader Joe’s to pick up a couple  bouquets of flowers in hopes of recognizing his house on Moreno Drive and leaving one there and leaving another at the mural on Sunset. Alas, I couldn’t recall the house’s location so both bunches of flora ended up at the mural.

And if there’s anyone reading this who thinks I’m making too big a deal about the man’s impact on this neighborhood, here’s a short and wonderful documentary from Lauren Malkasian made about the Walking Man a few years back:

From a humble seed not even a third the size of my pinky nail planted at the end of May, our first lemon queen sunflower has finally thrown open its petals this morning (click for the bigger picture).

Few things demonstrate the magnificence of life to me more than such an incredible and complex transformation.

UPDATE (1:33 p.m.): A customer arrives.

Call it coincidence, but it’s an interesting one. Like many dreams, I can’t quite remember when it exactly began, but an awareness about my lack of them has been in place for quite some time, and as someone who previously dreamed pretty regularly the prolonged dearth was a bit disturbing.

Well, in a curious case of timing wouldn’t you know after seeing the mind-blowing dreamscape epic  “Inception” over the weekend I blew my own mind with a remarkably vivid and detailed dream the likes of which I haven’t experienced in a long time — if ever. So intense was it that I awoke with an actual pounding headache. Or maybe the headache fed the dream? Whoa!

In it I was in trouble for something big and scheduled to surrender to authorities. But instead with Susan’s help I fled hoping to evade capture at the hands of a top-notch bounty hunter who was hot on my trail. Holed up in a dingy second-story flat straight out of film noir on Pico Boulevard in the Mid-City area and feeling the dragnet closing in, I arrange for Susan to come get me. But my attempts to get undetected to where she’s parked fail and I end up in a bullet-filled footrace to Susan’s SUV (foreshadowing of the Ford Escape hybrid we’re going to get soon?) with the bounty hunter in hot pursuit  and closing  — a chase so fear-filled and lifelike I can recall consciously acknowledging the physicality of how heavy my dreamself was breathing as I ran, very much like a spectator to my own movie. I dive into the truck and we make our getaway, barely evading my nemesis.

As a bonus the dream came to a conclusion, with me next sequestered out of sight near to the stark, post-modern hillside house that was our home, watching the bounty hunter try desperately to convince Susan that if I didn’t give up I’d be dead and she’d go to jail as an accessory. Doing the right thing, I step out hands-up from my hiding place and turn myself in.

The moment I feel the handcuffs tighten on my wrists, I wake up, eluding capture once again. But oddly left with a throbbing headache.

And in case you’re wondering, I thoroughly enjoyed “Inception.” Exceptionally original, wonderfully performed, masterfully directed and fully immersive, as an adult I haven’t so jaw-droppingly reveled in a motion picture since “The Dark Knight” (no surprise since they both were directed by Christopher Nolan), and “The Matrix.”

It looks like the first of our backyard sunflowers (to survive being stealthily beheaded by marauding squirrels who’ve de-budded three of them — the damn varmints!) is juuuuuust about ready to open up. The bud’s been playing peek-a-boo this way for a couple days and I’m hopeful we’re but a day or so away from it opening up and saying aha!

The evenings have brought us a bloom of another variety entirely. Beginning the first night of the heat wave last week, we’ve been sweetly serenaded by crickets, at a level unlike anything I’ve heard in the backyard in the six years I’ve lived here. Have a listen:

Recorded and sent directly to YouTube from my iPhone4. Sorry for the vertical letterboxing. I was trying to hold the device “properly” like a doof.

Yesterday at lunch I let Buster out of her hutch for a little backyard R&R (Roam & Recon), and apparently tortoises trigger some sort of allergic reaction in Ranger — located about the head and neck.