[sic]

Not sure why, but back when I was growing up I was always so much more an “Emergency!” kid, only occasionally watching the landmark “Adam-12″ series (1968-1975). Thanks to Netflix over these last six month or so, I’ve methodically marched my way across every episode of the first five years, and am about three or four into the show’s sixth (and second to last) season on the air.

Why? I attribute a fair share of my interest to nostalgia, but also to the fact that it holds up all these years later as a pretty damn good show. Of course, my main enthusiasm for it might have something to do with my present status as a trainee in a public safety program, and for sure whenever partners Pete Malloy and Jim Reed (Martin Milner and Kent McCord) inevitably do wrong by today’s law enforcement training standards, it reinforces how I should do things right. Whether they’re doing person searches before handcuffing, using the old “feet back and spread ‘em!” technique, calling for back-up and then not waiting for it to arrive before charging headlong after armed criminals into buildings, or turning their backs on suspects, the dynamic duo never fails to teach me what not to do almost each and every 24-minute episode.

Another reason is that it was filmed all around Los Angeles. Although the team was based out of the old Rampart Station on Temple Street and Benton Way, sadly most of the filming locations were in the San Fernando Valley. But Malloy and Reed certainly got all around town over the years and it’s an added bonus when I discover scenes filmed in my neck of the hoods. Take the following screengrab still from a scene showing Malloy with Sergeant “Mac” MacDonald (William Boyett) taking cover behind their patrol car from a shotgun-carrying robbery suspect pinned down in the then-open ped tunnel in Echo Park a block north of Sunset Boulevard on Montana Street between Logan and LeMoyne (click it for the bigger picture):

Then there’s this one from way back in the first season when the partners pull over a young socialite for speeding around the west side of Silver Lake Reservoir (click it for the bigger picture):

There have been plenty of others I’ve recognized (for example, the opening credits of the first couple/three seasons involved the vehicle speeding north on Hoover from 6th Street with historic First Congregational Church in the background and the countless stock shots of the station house), but I’ve been too lazy to screengrab them. If any more show up during the remaining episodes I’ll get into the habit of capturing and posting.

UPDATE (03.15): I remembered in an episode from Season Five (1972) during a protest scene staged in front of Rampart Station, the angle of the shot showing McCord and Boyett talking outside the entrance revealed the LAPD had a notable neighbor across Temple Street back then… the Church of Scientology. Interesting that they were as modest about their signage as they are now.

Went cumulative this time ’round since the backyard dealt with a relatively rapid series of storms over the last few days, ending sometime this morning when I looked out at a patch of sky and found it 57% gray-free. Given that the month of January has brought us almost three weeks of dryness, I’d say these systems more than made up for it, dropping 3.54″ into our backyard precipitometer.

Given that this season to-date still seemed drier than last, I was surprised to find more had fallen now than at this same time in 2012 — by almost a full inch, thanks to a 37-day-long dry spell between December 2011 and January 2012.

January 24-27: 3.54″
Season Total: 16.57″

UPDATE (01.28): Another weak system swept through yesterday evening, but did not produce measurable results.

In this Season Nine premiere of the never-ending dramedy we find our sleepy homeowner who has just pushed his trash cans out to the street early this cold morning for today’s pickup. In so doing he discovers a pearlescent green Honda Element SUV parked in too small a space at the curb by his garage whose late-for-yoga, mat/coffee-carrying driver is exiting and whose vehicle’s rear end is encroaching more than two feet across his driveway apron, effectively prohibiting his wife’s imminent departure from the tight, two-car garage, even though there are at least two curb spaces within the homeowner’s spitting distance  large enough to accommodate the vehicle.

The devil-side of our homeowner considers simply speed dialing parking enforcement and towing said illegally parked pearlescent SUV of said late-for-yoga, mat/coffee carrier, but goodness triumphs and instead homeowner attempts to spare the person the imposition of ticket and impound fees by requesting that the vehicle be relocated. Stupid him.

Homeowner: Excuse me?
Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (walking away from locked car turns in surprise): Yes?
Homeowner: Your vehicle is blocking my driveway enough to make it next to imposs —.
Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (interrupting while walking to the rear of the vehicle and over dramatically throwing up the hand not carrying the rolled up yoga mat and cup of coffee): May I stop you there?
Homeowner (considers not stopping, but does): Sure.
Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (talks slowly to homeowner as if addressing someone developmentally disabled, accompanied with a deliberately irksome nodding): Yes. I seeeeeee that your driiiiiiveway is blooooocked, and I will reeeeeelocate my caaaaaar immeeeeeeediately.

A few seconds pass quietly as the Homeowner and Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier stare at each other, the latter oblivious to the fact that the former is intently considering the ramifications of bum-rushing the latter.

Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (breaking the silence): OooooKaaaay?
Homeowner (considers giving Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier the award for Best Extended Use of Vowels in Marked Condescension to the Wrong Person at the Wrong Time before saying, nonplussed): Wow. Inconsiderate AND patronizing.
Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (obviously irritated at being cross-condescended, as well as reminded the center of the universe is elsewhere, while also  being forced to be a couple more minutes late to yoga class): We’re done and you’re welcome!
Homeowner: Not quite. The irony is if I hadn’t given you consideration and gotten this STARTED you’d be returning to a vehicle that had been ticketed and towed. So it’s YOU who are welcome.
Yoga Mat/Coffee Carrier (unlocks door, gets in and before slamming door and starting vehicle repeats): We’re DONE!

Happy Ending: Pearlescent-green Honda Element seen below on StreetCam parked in a legal space (with another one across the street) that the late-for-yoga mat/coffee carrier could’ve and should’ve utilized aaaaaaaaall aloooooooooooong, Ooooookaaaaaay?!

I’m familiar enough with the history of this country to be aware of and repulsed by the prevalent use of racially restrictive covenants that prohibited property ownership and occupation — a completely legal practice that stood in place until it was overturned by the US Supreme Court in 1948.

A restrictive covenant is basically a legal obligation imposed in a deed by the seller upon the buyer of real estate to do or not to do something.

As an aside, it should be noted that it was a lawyer from right here South Los Angeles named Loren Miller — the son of a slave –  who was instrumental not only in winning many local cases against racial covenants, but also the most celebrated one: Shelley v. Kraemer (1948),  which he and partner Thurgood Marshall argued successfully before the U.S. Supreme Court. Miller would later go on to be named Justice of the California Supreme Court by Gov. Edmund G. Brown (our current governor’s father), serving until his death in 1967.

But back on topic. Cleaning out her files, Susan came across a copy of the original grant deed for our property made out by the parcel’s original owners George and Katherine Palmer, dated September 26, 1907. It starts off with some pretty standard normal conditions:

• that it be used for residential purposes only;
• that any out-buildings not be erected less than 75 feet from the front line of the lot;
• that the value of the dwelling built must be greater than $2,500 (remember that’s 1907 dollars);
• that anything built be not less than 1.5 stories in height;
• that the home should be built no fewer than 35 feet from the front of the lot nor within four feet of the sides.

Then there’s a cool one, specified:

“That this property shall never be used for the sale of intoxicating liquors.”

Then it gets repulsively nasty, see for yourself:

Click it for the bigger picture or read the transcribed abhorrence below:

“That the party of the second part, his heirs, administrators, executors or assigns shall never convey lease or rent these lots or any portion thereof to any negro or to any person of African or Asiatic descent.”

Despite too-regular reminders provided by our past, I am always ever-amazed and embarrassed at how those in this country so shamefully and selfishly managed to subvert and disregard the second line of its Declaration of Independence:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

On Christmas Eve morning Susan and I set out in the light rain for a Silver Lake walkabout that turned into an almost-six-mile loop around our wonderful neighborhood. We discovered new stuff, like this colorfully reborn parking meter we dropped a couple coins into where it stands just south of Rowena on West Silver Lake Drive. This one’s set up to raise money to keep lighted the lovely “Chandelier Tree” the property owner created, and represents a variation of a movement afoot in various cities across the country to re-adapt and reuse the defunct machines as donation stations for various causes.

And we stopped into a variety of shops catering to last-minute holiday shoppers including Yolk, Brightwell, Broome St. General Store, Casita del Campo (for a mid-route libation), The Cheese Store of Silver Lake, Pull My Daisy, Reform School, the 99-Cent store, Daisy’s Antiques and Danish Modern LA.

Before we left I loaded into my backpack a couple books because the one place I wanted to visit in order to give rather than receive was St. George Street branch of the Little Free Library that’s been set up for well over a year (and actual it’s stationed on Rowena between St. George and Hyperion).

Mission accomplished:

One of these years I’m going to add my own satellite branch to the extensive nationwide system.

Merry Christmas!

PS> For a few more snaps of some of the things we saw along the way, check out this Flickr set.

If I didn’t have other errands to run I’d've just walked the half-block to our polling place, but since I had to go to Glendale, I hit the start button on my handlebar-mounted GoPro, hopped on the bike and made casting a ballot my first stop, where I was pleased to find myself waiting behind about 10 other voters ahead of me. You’ll never hear me complain about having to wait in a line to vote. It fires me up to see members of the local electorate fired up enough to make me have to stand around a few extra minutes.

As I moved up, others fell in behind me. I asked if it was OK to bring my bike inside and a volunteer said sure. And though I thought I’d shut off my cam, it turns out it kept recording my neighbors and me (in the black knickers shirt and backpack) doing our duty as citizens. Kinda nice to have a physical record of it. I even had the pleasure of helping out a first-time voter in the booth next to me who was unsure how to put the ballot in the voting machine and asked for my help.

Sometimes real life reinforces the lessons I’m learning in the course of my public safety education. Take this otherwise unidentifiable fellow below, who triggered the motion sensors of my front porch cam this morning, and was thus digitally captured stealing today’s newspaper (click them for the bigger pictures):

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Thanks to the newspaper delivery person not tossing today’s edition high enough up onto our front steps, this male in a red long-sleeved shirt and black baseball cap, happened upon its accessibility. In the image on the left, he’s paused and is looking toward the street (perhaps to make sure no one is around to witness his impending act). Then, 18 seconds later in the frame on the right, he’s facing the house, having either begun to go down to get the paper on the lower steps or standing back up after taking it.

Coincidentally the exam we had last week was on property crimes, two of which this suspect committed: trespassing and petty theft (California Penal Code sections 602 and 488):

In class I learned that the elements required for the crime of trespassing to be complete are:

• any person who enters any land, whether unenclosed or enclosed by fence,
• for the purpose of injuring any property or property rights or
• interfering with, obstructing, or injuring any lawful business or occupation
• carried on by the owner of the land, the owner’s agent, or by the person in lawful possession.

And we also learned the elements that are necessary for petty theft to be complete:

• the taking and
• carrying away of
• personal property of another without consent
• with intent to permanently deprive the owner.

For those of you thinking it might be classifiable as burglary, that could only happen if he entered the actual residence to take the newspaper. Instead, for a $1 newspaper this fellow committed two misdemeanors, each punishable with six months in jail and a $1,000 fine.

But wait! There’s more: Upon discovering the paper missing shortly after 8 a.m., I saw that the twine wrapped around the paper had been removed and dropped on our bottom most step,  which means the suspect added the infraction of littering (California Penal Code Section 374.4) to such an illustrious resume.

If the overtly clinical tone of this post has left you wondering what’s been done with the Will who usually rants ballistically about such transgressions, rest assured, he’s still here — and wishing the images captured provided a clearer picture of the culprit for which to file a police report. In the meantime I’m simply deploying another crucial aspect of my training: objectivity.

And keeping an eye open wide for the next attempt.