Precious Movies.

I love this time of year. Yes, for the subtle California seasonal changes - the golden afternoon light, the need for a sweater at night, the smell of fireplaces burning around town ... but the real way you know the seasons have shifted in Los Angeles is by the GOOD movies finally coming out. I don't really like it that they save all the good ones until now so that they can be fresh in Award Season voters' minds - spread it out a LITTLE! - but it's just the way it is, so now is the time to be ensconced in a dark theater ... if you can't be at the beach that day, that is.

Yesterday was an especially trying day for some reason, and I don't think anything is in retrograde? Technical difficulties all week;

{Dear Verizon High Speed Internet Customer Service: You can suck it. And by It, I mean the yawning abyss left empty by the vanishing of my business. Losers. Bye. CJG}

... delays of all kinds; rejection letters; a three day headache; and general disillusionment. I'd finally had it with trying for the day, and went to the movies to escape it all. We were going to see the new Coen Brothers' film - because one must - but only front row seats remained. Precious: Based On The Novel "Push" By Sapphire was starting at the same time, and it was also high on my list. WHOA.
If I thought I had even ONE problem before seeing this astounding film ... it all dissipated about three minutes into entering the life of Clarice "Precious" Jones. The things that she endures are so horrifying ... we were shaking with held-back sobs at one awful point ... but she keeps going. The spirit inside of this 16 year old girl is so strong, I was instantly ashamed at myself for thinking I'd had an inkling of a bad day. The performances by absolutely everyone are so honest and touching - and EVIL, in the case of Mo'Nique (who I'm telling you, will win an Oscar) - that you are firmly in their world for every frame.
Lenny Kravitz and Mariah Carey each play small, but important roles, and excel. (Mariah Carey! Acting well!) But the lead performances, for sure Mo'Nique, but also Gabourey Sidibe as Precious, will just tear your heart out. I left the theater, first shaking my head and wiping my face of tears, but then skipping and clicking my heels that the cards I've been dealt have not ever come near the absolute trauma of this titan of a girl. Who keeps going forward no matter what happens. The movie ends with the dedication, "For Precious Girls Everywhere ..." - and that's about the roughest part of the movie - realizing that these scenarios DO exist. We could all do well to remember that ... all the time. That even though stuff happens that shakes your head up and ruins your day, it could always be so, so, so much worse.

Don't shy away from this movie because you think it will be too sad, either. It's actually laugh out loud funny in a few parts ... but inspiring all the way through. Go.

On another movie note ... I like when you go to Netflix and there's the little section that says "Local Favorites For Venice, CA". I always find it kind of reassuring to see the ones that people whom I live around watch - decent movies. What an interesting way to check out demographics. I'd be interested to know what other areas have in that section ...


That's how I first heard about the one I watched the other night, Anvil. What a great documentary! It's great for how METAL it is (Anvil is a metal band from the 80's that never blew up, but the guys are still going for it up in Canada, hoping they'll still break through and be huge.), but also for, again, how really inspiring it is. (It would be a swell double feature with American Movie - similar dreams, equally touching). Though it seems unlikely that these rockers, now in their 50's, will ever be massive (you do find yourself wanting to order their cd's just to help), they love what they do, their families support their dreams, and they never give up hope. And isn't that what it's all about?

View, reflect, and count your blessings.

High!

There is a great place to watch the Sunset in Venice these days, high above the Boardwalk at High. It's the bar on top of the Hotel Erwin (used to be the shoddy Best Western), and the view is so gorgeous you can't even barely stand it.


You enter the Hotel Erwin lobby (centrally located on Pacific and almost Windward) and take the elevator up to the Roof. You walk down a long Hamptons-like wooden sidewalk that leads to the seating areas, where you set up camp in one of the comfy couch sections, and Behold! The entire Venice Boardwalk, and the mountains and sea beyond. stretch out to infinity. There is nothing left to do but toast your good fortune to be in this moment.

As with any decent place with a view, High gets its fair share of Tourists and Tools, but if you and your posse of locals can finagle one of the front couch areas from the very nice manager, Tom, you will pat yourselves on the back as you keep your eye out for the Green Flash. The sun sets over the vast Pacific .. the Santa Monica Mountains turn purple before your eyes.

There are blankets and space heaters for your coziness as the night air turns brisk, and the menus light up so you can see what you're in for. Innovative. One drag is that the bathroom is two floors down (via stairs or elevator) and that can seem like a haul, but there are worse hells.

I haven't had any of the food really, other than little appetizer things, but I can vouch for the drinks - good and stiff (though a little pricey, like most Hotels with a view. Perhaps not a nightly hang spot). There is a restaurant on the street level called Hash that looks pretty good too. High and Hash. The Erwin seems to be familiar with much of its Venice clientele already.

I haven't seen any of the rooms in The Erwin yet, but have heard that they are clean, well-designed, and affordable. The art on the hallway walls seems pretty beachy and cool ... I will for sure recommend the place for my out-of-towners to stay (when my own Hostel is full).

We had a fun and fantastic High Happy Hour last Friday, and the colors of the sunset were mind-blowing. It put us all in an excellent mood to carry on to First Fridays over on Abbot Kinney (aka Food Truck Alley - weird). The lights came on all over town, and from the High vantage point, it looked so charming, that all just had to be well.

Check it out when you want to impress someone with the stunningly beautiful side of Venice. I'll clink to that!

The Good, The Bad ... and The Venice.

The Good:

A Bi-Coastal Skate Summit! My brother, Paul, and our Brother-Friend, Aaron, met and grew up together skating the mean streets of Minneapolis. Paul moved West (Venice) and Aaron moved East (Brooklyn), and whenever one visits the other, it's still mainly about skateboarding. Aaron even turned a spare room in his last New York apartment into a "Spare Ramp". Yes, a skateboard ramp built in to fit the room. One time I was in NYC and booked a hotel room. Aaron was offended. "Never do that again. You can always stay in the spare ramp. It's good for your back." These guys clearly love their skateboards.

So it was with great anticipation and joy that the two old friends got up early ("to beat the kids") to skate the new Venice Skatepark together. It was like Christmas morning as a kid (if you had a slight hangover then), and the smiles were wide. I quote Aaron, "It's like butter." Everyone thinks so, and everyone loves it. There was even a very attentive guy down there with a big Dust Buster type thing, blowing away any traces of sand in the Bowl, dodging the skaters taking their turns. Everyone seems to be very courteous about that too - it's very civilized the way people observe and respect each other, and the order of runs. I was impressed.

There was one really quite elderly man down there, all padded up and waiting his turn. I was both proud of him, and a bit worried - it's not really the sport to take up in older age. Paul finished a run and said, "I feel like an old man." You would not know that to look at him here:


Still wrecking it! Aaron's style is very smooth, like surfing, and almost too quick to capture.

It warmed my heart to see these two old friends out there on a glorious Venice morning in early-November. After all the years of skating outside in winter slush, taking the guff of jock dudes that were threatened somehow by skaters, and being harassed by the Cops, Paul and Aaron had their reward this morning ... and are still out there now.


The Bad:

Well ... whether this is bad or not is controversial, but it's been eating at me since this time yesterday, and my friend Steph said, "You need to write about this and get it out of your system." So I am.

I was sailing across Abbot Kinney on Venice Boulevard yesterday on my bike, hair blow-drying in the wind and sunshine, dressed in my Technicolor Tunic, smiling and waving at a friend who had honked as they drove past. Not an antagonist figure in the least. More like Happy Venice Poster Child. And I WAS Happy Venice in my mind too, looking forward to a sunny lunch with Jen at Casa Linda ... Blessed.

I curved past this woman on her bike, (Mom's age-ish, in a bike helmet) and as I swept past her, she yelled at me, "HAVE A NICE BRAIN INJURY!" I DID almost crash my bike hearing that. I think she just wanted her 2 cents heard as someone flew by, and didn't count on me slamming on my brakes, turning to her, and saying, "What did you just say?" She smiled this strange smile and said, "I said have a nice brain injury. Enjoy your cracked skull." I was so taken aback, I just looked at her for a second, and then said, "That's not a very nice thing to say." She replied, "Well, what nice way would you like me to tell you that you're going to die? Falling on your head on concrete from three feet up is absolute death, and you're higher than three feet on that bike."

Again, Wow. "Did you get a brain injury or something?", I asked, wondering why she was on such a crusade with a total stranger. "No, because I wear a helmet.", she answered snippily. "Well, there's probably a better way to say this to someone.", was all I could come up with to say, as I was torn between wanting to push her over and hoping this wasn't some Omen Lady sent to warn me against imminent paraplegia. She just shrugged at me, and smiled oddly again. I was done with her, so said, "Thanks for the advice, I'll look into it {No, I won't}." She gave me two thumbs up and said, "Good Girl!", like I was a little retarded already.

I rode off, but fumed about it a couple more blocks and spilled it all to Jenny, and we both think she was super out of line, and freaky for even putting that negative energy out there on me. We're kids of the 70's, Man. I get it about helmets and pads and everything, but I've made it this far, and I really don't see myself pedaling along The Boardwalk in a helmet anytime soon. So ... was it bad? Was it good? Was it none of her business? I'm leaning towards the latter. I'll ask the expert on me, my safety, and moral manners ... Mom?

The Venice:

I was unable to attend the Venice Neighborhood Council meeting last night on Medical Marajuana and the Dispensaries around town, but Jim from the Farmer's Market, and Jenny from the Block went and said it was a great meeting, all in favor of legalization and regulation. Everyone was super informed and had data to back up their comments and concerns ... and nothing was really decided. Stay tuned for more on this when I can listen in for myself. But be encouraged that California may soon solve many of its problems (Economic, Prison overcrowding, Buzz-killing ...) through the simple and obvious act of legalization. This is a historic time in our state, and once more California finds itself on the leading edge of stuff that just makes sense (except for Prop. 8 ... but we'll get it next time!).


Happy Weekend!

This Is It - Michael Jackson's Final Gift To His Fans

The new movie about Michael Jackson's last show, This Is It, opens with the words, "For the fans", and that is exactly what it is - an absolute gift to anyone who ever danced along to "Billie Jean" or "Beat It" ... who sang along to The Jackson Five ... who watched the "Thriller" video 3,000 times ... who stayed home from the Circus to watch Michael perform The Moonwalk the first time on t.v. (me) ... or just someone who can appreciate an otherworldly talent that we'll never see again. This is truly it.

I'm so glad I saw this film, because now the lasting impression I have of Michael Jackson is not at all the tabloid freak show our society turned him into ... instead, it is of a man who LOVED what he did, and who was still the very best at it. This was not a man who wanted to die. He is firmly in charge. He is clearly excited to, as he put it, "show people talent they've never seen before." This live show would have been the absolute best show that ever was. The movie succeeds in blowing your mind with anticipation for the real deal, and then crushing your heart to know that it will never happen, and the world has lost someone incredibly special.

The movie (and the show) goes through all the stages of Michael's career, and he still sings a lot like the little kid we all fell in love with. It's all rehearsal footage, so he's just marking a lot of the dances, to save his energy, but when he cuts loose ... he shows you exactly why he was dubbed The King Of Pop. At one point, he does a kind of dance solo that leaves all his backup dancers laughing and falling on the ground in admiration, and from getting schooled. The entire movie I felt my body twitching while watching him, like you just want to get up and try his moves with him. They're not just the old, familiar ones either - this guy was always pushing forward: new dance moves (sideways Moonwalk!), so precise they're like robot moves, aerial artists, film technology (new "Thriller" segments!) you've never seen in a live show before, fresh new costumes (new, pointy shouldered jacket!), and best of all, Michael Jackson showing you how it's done. As everyone is left gasping at his moves, he humbly says, "At least that helps you get a feel for it." Everyone laughed out loud in the theater at the understatement.

It also rocks. It's a great movie, and would've been a great show, because you know every note and beat of each song, so you feel it more. "Beat It" is as rock as ever, only now he has a cute blonde girl shredding the guitar solo instead of Eddie Van Halen. Michael sort of shadow boxes at one point during it, and looks strong (almost buff?) for a second, instead of the frail guy that you just hope will get through it all. Which he did not - but when you watch him singing and dancing, it becomes pretty clear that there was some serious foul play involved, because no one works that hard and puts up this big of a production to not want to see it through. It is tragic for everyone involved on screen that this show will never come to pass. I applaud the decision to share this footage with the world, because it shows the sheer artistic mastery and perfectionism of Michael Jackson, and his desire to "Put some love back into the world."

So if you ever sang along or mimicked MJ's moves, (or got into a fight with your neighbor over the photo of him in the "Say, Say, Say" yellow vest and hat that there was only one magazine left of - again, me) go see "This Is It". As my friend Kwaku said, "Michael Jackson is our Elvis." He really was. There will likely never be anyone bigger, or more culture changing, in the world again. Sad as it is to see this life force snuffed out and gone, the film celebrates everything spectacular that Michael Jackson contributed to this planet. And it remains thrilling.

44.

Do you remember how you felt on this day last year? This HISTORICAL day?! I do. But it can be easy to forget the absolute JUBILATION of that momentous day ... especially if you listen to the way the media does its daily spin. Two states win Gubernatorial elections yesterday for Republicans, and suddenly the country is rebuking President Obama. Last night we watched the remarkable new HBO documentary, By The People: The Election Of Barack Obama. All the flooding emotions roared back ... the angst of the campaign, the chin up despite the nay-sayers (I was on board from the BEGINNING. I have emails from Obama's Illinois Senate Office before he ever decided to run. I BELIEVED.), the drama, the anger, the fun, the HOPE, and finally, the TRIUMPH! Man. What an epic day. For ALL time.

There are some who want to bag on our wonderful 44th President, (Honestly. The positive difference between him and our last joker/War Criminal is so stark it's alarming. And laughable that there are people that have the nerve to complain one iota about the elegant man who is 44.) for not having done enough yet, or to their personal liking ("We do not see things as they are, we seem them as we are." - Anais Nin), or they are afraid, or straight out racist. What they fail to realize is how FAR we've come around the world in the one year since the election. Rather, how far we as a Nation came OVERNIGHT from the election. The world-wide celebration, hope and support for our new President and we citizens exploded in a burst of heart-felt JOY, that is still being felt today, if you open your ears beyond the network news. And that IS a feat deserving of a Nobel Peace Prize ... certainly if you traveled or listened to anyone from anywhere else during the last reign of - literally - terror. We are a NEW nation, from November 4, 2008 ... and for always. Remember - and CELEBRATE - that fact. And join together to help our President not only clean up our huge messes, but better us as a Country, and as a People.

So ... to help you conjure up those elated memories ... I share my piece from the day after last year's election with you now:
"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America."

That was how PRESIDENT ELECT BARACK OBAMA (!!!) began his historical victory speech last night ... and that is how I too shall begin, as I DID have my doubts and my fears, but I also had my hopes and my dreams - and last night, November 4th, 2008, Hope beat Fear.

It's been four long years since Barack Obama burst into my life, when I heard him speak at the 2004 Democratic Convention. I have not wavered an instant since then in thinking (and being pretty vocal about), "THAT is who I want as my President". Twenty four hours ago, it finally happened ... and I'm still an elated, happily crying mess of joy.

I am only one of 63+ Million American voters who made this day happen. There are as many inspiring stories, and am proud to have my own to share when I'm an old woman looking back on this monumental day.

After being SO inspired by hearing Senator Obama speak at the '04 Convention, I looked him up online. I donated a couple of bucks, as a thank you for giving me chills. (I still have the 2005 email response, thanking ME!) I read his books, growing more impressed. I started talking to my friends and relatives about this guy from Illinois, who talked about America like I remembered THINKING about America as a kid, but had lost in the last very dark eight years. I knew (or was told) that it was probably "too soon" for him to run, but I've always had big dreams. I kept hoping.

Buzz grew, speculation whirled ... and then early in 2007, Obama announced his candidacy for President. I was on board immediately. Interestingly, my thoughts and feelings are still pretty far to the left of Obama's ... but it didn't matter so much, because underneath it all was and is my desire for the States of America to truly be UNITED - and I saw this unique man as interested in that unity above all else.

So began the blog writing, the emails to friends who'd never heard of the guy (and probably weren't that interested at the time), the squeezing into rallies, the phone banking (and getting hung up on), the donating every chance I could, and the constant chatter, trying to get people to listen. It was interesting and challenging, trying to get people involved, when while most of my friends think along the same lines as myself, many are more radical and don't trust any politician. Or they liked Hillary. Or they didn't think Obama had a chance.

I was scoffed at - "Yeah, good luck with that, Carol. America isn't ready for a Black President". I was told that my letters of support for Obama were "Hate Mail" by an old friend. I traveled abroad and had to defend my hopes for a new America to people that had given up on us, and really now saw us (the Government, not the people, I hoped) as the Evil Empire. As I was beginning to myself.

But then it caught on. Volunteer meetings ran out of chairs. People stood for HOURS to get into rallies. People stopped hanging up, and instead volunteered their OWN time. Obama's fundraising went through the roof. Everyone started PAYING ATTENTION! Feeling the same HOPE that I felt.

And then the Iowa Caucuses happened last January. I vividly remember sitting in the car, listening to NPR, fascinated at the process, needing to go inside to a dinner, but unable to tear my ears from the radio. When the news came that Iowa, among the whitest of states, gave their voices - loudly and proudly - to Barack Obama, and gave him his first victory of the Primary Season, I put my head on the steering wheel and cried. Happy, hopeful, anything is now possible tears of joy!

Iowa opened the flood gates, and started the bandwagon. Songs were written, art was made, shirts were worn, and a strong coalition of hope and possibility was formed. It became more a movement than a campaign. EVERYONE felt the darkness of the past eight years, and we all shared the same desire to move in a positive direction. That is, everyone but the opposing factions, who did everything in their power to squash the momentum, to no lasting effect. Sometimes I think things had to get so bad in this country in order for us to wake up and finally come together to DO SOMETHING about it. It's very Star Wars, when you think about it.

It's been a long, LOOOOONG journey since then, full of emotional ups and downs, scandals and wretched tactics from Obama's opponents - but he never wavered in his grace, wisdom and calm. Because of that, neither did we.

The work intensified, making MORE phone calls, talking about it more in everyday life, writing about it constantly, traveling to former Red State Nevada (which WE WON!) to knock on doors, and making more phone calls. Honestly, the "Community Organizing" which was mocked by Republicans, is exactly what did them in. That, and a transcendent candidate named Barack Hussein Obama, whom we truly believed in.

Yesterday dawned (not that I slept) sunny, the most beautiful day possible, and I took that as a good omen, though the knot in my stomach told me not to trust it. I had a text message from a friend/neighbor before 7 a.m. that our polling place had a line of 250+ waiting to vote. That news prompted my first sob of the day ... surely all those people weren't waiting in lines like that to vote Republican again?! I turned on the morning news and saw that those lines were happening all across the country ... It was happening! People were using their voices!

But as a friend pointed out, "we've been bitch-slapped the past two elections", so I held down my growing excitement, terrified of being ruined again. In all frankness, I think I've been in somewhat of a depression ever since Kerry lost to Bush. Not that I held any of the same high hopes in that election, but just that anyone could POSSIBLY have voted in that other direction TWICE. I think the whole planet may have shared in that depression - unless they were profiting from the war and terrible economy in some way.

When it was my turn to get in line, my excitement grew. I couldn't stop talking to strangers in line about what a great day it was (my brother Paul said, "I think you might be electioneering"), and they all agreed. When it was time to punch the hole for Obama/Biden - I had more tears. When I walked out with my "I Voted" sticker on, the whole long line smiled. I allowed myself the tiniest glimmer of hope - again.

I ran from phone calls to computer screens to MSNBC and back around - all day. One pundit would boost you up, only to have another give you a gut punch. This went on all day long. I couldn't eat. I paced. My friend and fellow long-time Obama supporter, Jenny said, "Here, take a chill" - and handed me a glass of champagne to calm the nerves. (It didn't work, but it was delightful).

Finally, having passed up the big parties around town to focus (and rock back and forth) in relative calm, it was time to gather around the television and await the returns. I wondered if my drinking champagne was a premature curse. I hoped that my taking the garbage out that morning symbolically meant the Washington trash was about to get thrown out (everything had much deeper - and possibly sillier - meaning yesterday). Still ... I dared to hope.

It started to look good .. but then Chuck Todd said that it was the original projected map, and no surprises had happened yet, so people should "cool their heels, it could be a long night". UGH! You started to see people arriving in Chicago's Grant Park - nothing but smiling faces of all colors and ages - rushing to get a good spot. Obama would take one state, but then McCain would take another. Then they called Pennsylvania for Obama, and I choked up again - no McCain upset - hope! Then a bunch more, and then - Minnesota, my home state - WON! I danced and hugged and another cork popped. But nothing could be taken for granted until the last polls closed on the West Coast - where we were. Sitting on the very edge of my seat, I watched as the time clock clicked down the seconds to our 8 p.m. poll closing. I was aware of nothing else around me but that clock.

When it hit 8:00, I heard nothing. I just looked at the state percentages, saw California go for Obama, then it switched to say "United States" and the percentage, and then the word PRESIDENT under Obama's name. I literally fell to my knees, then leaped up into a World Series worthy huddle of victory, friendship, relief and pure, unadulterated JOY! Tears streamed down my cheeks and I cried like you did as a kid, shaking and quivering ... SCREAMING! WE DID IT! In lulls while we took breaths, you could hear the same happening in pockets all around outside. VICTORY! DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD!!! AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL! WOW!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!! AMAZING GRACE!!

We calmed down long enough to watch the incredible scene unfold in Chicago. A crazy wind whipped up suddenly outside (it was seriously crazy, making it very hard not to make "Winds Of Change" jokes, or think of the ghosts who we hoped would somehow be able to see this wondrous event) as we heard Obama give the victory speech that not only inspired us, but also called us to action. Because this is just the beginning, people. We have WORK to do. We have had great, great damage inflicted on us as a people, and as a nation, (and inflicted it upon many other people and nations, I'd regretfully add) and change is not going to happen overnight. We know this. We accept this. We SHALL overcome! So just for today, let's get back to the celebration!

We had sent out the word to all friends to meet in the parking lot of The Brig, a local bar, to join us on a victory bike ride. People we didn't even know were there waiting with our friends, as we rode up around the corner, screaming and ringing our bells. EVERY car that drove by was honking, with people hanging out the windows screaming. As our large group took over the street with our bikes, blue star balloons streaming behind us, EVERYONE we passed screamed along with us. I've never ever seen anything like it, and tears streamed down my cheeks to meet my gigantic smile. I hadn't felt that pride of country in a long time, maybe since I was a tiny kid at the Bicentennial ... or maybe the Miracle On Ice ... and so it made perfect sense that we celebrated like kids last night.

YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID!!!

After that, it's all a blur of happy mayhem. But when I woke up today, it was not a dream, rather, it was the FULFILLMENT of a dream! The headlines shouted triumphantly, and photos of people celebrating around the world nearly brought me to my knees again. It made me feel almost exactly as profound as 9/11, only in the exact opposite way - ELATED, as opposed to devastated. The whole world rallied around us again ... this time in joyful celebration! I can barely see through my now-welling-again eyes to type further, as I've wanted so, so badly to feel this way again about my beloved country, and now I, WE, can.

I think today of Madelyn Dunham, Barack Obama's Grandmother, who died ONE day before her Grandson became President. I think of Obama's parents, who never lived to know of their son's transformation of a nation. I think of Martin Luther King, Jr, who died so that yesterday we DID judge a man not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. I think of Bob Marley, who sang "Get Up, Stand Up" ... which we DID yesterday, to join together and CREATE CHANGE and say NO MORE! But most importantly, I think of all of us. We who are still here, who created and saw this wonderful day happen in history, but who can now also be here to back it all up in the days and years ahead.

One day, one party, one man ... can do NOTHING to change the world beyond the initial celebration. We must now ALL come together to live up to our best ideals, and really, to save the world. Things would have been drastically, ruinously, different had things gone the other way last night ... and I think we all know that. No matter who you voted for, there is no way you can be against the outpouring of joy and unity that happened last night in The United States of America, and around the globe. This is our time to lead again, by GOOD example. To truly live UNITED, as one people, and one nation ... we cannot forget that THAT is why we were founded as a New World, not to be split down the middle by things that really don't matter so much in the end. Taxes, abortion, etc .. those things that divide us aren't the things that made us great. It was the idea of a true Democracy, and that all people are created equal. What made me cry and shout in triumph last night wasn't that my guy won ... it was that we as a people SHOWED that our Democracy DOES work, that we ARE all created equal, and that America really IS beautiful. That out of many, we are truly one.

Last spring I stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the exact spot where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have A Dream" speech, after a day spent at the Walter Reed War Veterans Hospital, and choked up to think of how far we had gone astray since Lincoln's day, and thought we had maybe failed for good. Next January, a million people will again fill that same space, and know that they helped make a national dream come true.

Let us continue that line of work, dream-making. Let's give all kids the dream of college. All families the dream of affordable/free health care. All workers the dream of jobs. All economies the dream of thriving. All eco-systems the dream of surviving. All nations the dream of peace.

Why not dream? Last night, we as a WORLD, learned that anything is possible.

Dia de Los Muertos at Rose & Roger's!

Years ago I was reading the LA Times and was struck by the absolute beauty of a house that was being profiled for the Home section, or whatever it was called at the time. It was painted all sorts of Kahlo colors, with exquisite tile mosaics throughout, and looked like just about the most serene and happy house on Earth. I actually cut out a huge picture of the front door and glued it into my journal as something I would like to aspire to one day in a home of my own. I would think about it from time to time, and wonder about the woman who created such a haven for her family.

I met Rose Portillo and her man, Roger Bowers, through my good friend, Shane. We'd see each other at various Shane functions over the years, and I would always find myself raving about her from our fun and enthusiastic conversations. Then Rose and Roger offered to host Shane and his Bride To Be, Jenny's, engagement party at their home. The night arrived, and as we parked on the steep road in Silver Lake, and walked up the sidewalk and through the gate, my jaw dropped as I immediately recognized the front doorway from my journal all those years before! I KNEW the cool lady with the cool house!!!

Who got even cooler when she told me that every year she and Roger host a Dia de Los Muertos party on November 2nd. Which I've now attended each year since the discovery, and it is so beautiful, warm, welcoming, and touching that I find myself looking more forward to it than even Halloween. (Especially this year for some reason, I was kind of a Halloween Scrooge. The Grinch Reversed.)

The centerpiece of the house, and the party, on November 2nd is the Altar to honor all the Lost Loved Ones. You can bring a picture, a bottle of their favorite hooch, a letter, a candle, whatever item you choose to remember your dearly departed with. Looking over the photos - some yellowed and bent with age and handling - and reading the notes ... brings on emotions in you, but then you look around at all the LIFE and COLOR all around you in the house and you realize that life is a CELEBRATION - and that is the very best way to give tribute to those people (or pets! There's a whole little altar for a pet rabbit!) now gone from our lives. So we party!

Rose, her Mother, and friends make home-made tamales and salads, and other delectable dishes show up all night to join them. The entire house is decked out with Day Of The Dead people and paintings, and the yard is an array of color and sparkle too. The house is from 1927, and is the same house that baby Rose was brought home to, as it was her Grandparents' place. When they passed on, she moved in and has been creating her masterpiece inside since 1995. Your eye cannot stop moving - even in the bathrooms - as there are tiny details adorning literally every inch of the walls, ceilings, floors, all of it. She has also taught the art of mosaic to at-risk L.A. youth, showing them that things that are broken (tiles, pottery, humans) can still be useful and create beauty.
Rose is also an accomplished actress, and has a production company, About Productions, with whom she is this instant in the middle of co-directing and writing the play, Bleeding Through, running now through November 22 at the Shakespeare Festival LA. It's about the ghosts of Angelino Heights, where more cinematic murders have taken place than anywhere else in the world. I'm going. Come with!
The ghosts were out at Rose and Roger's house last night too - in a good way. The colorful warmth of their home welcomed revelers both living and not. And a good time was had by all.

Bike Retrieval Vigilantes!

OK ... so the more I relay the happy story about the return of my bike, Delores, the more I hear about other bikes having been ripped off. So ... The Free Venice Beachhead - which was so instrumental in my getting Delores back (see September Blogtown or Beachhead) - Collective has agreed to run photos in the paper with descriptions of the stolen bike for the low, low, Beachhead-sustaining cost of $5.00 US. It really can work, so spread the word. Let's run these photos and keep our eyes and ears open so that we can share the story of happy reunions all around town.

We're still on the hunt for Nathan's (BON VOYAGE, NATH!!!) Purple Stingray:
He's out there somewhere. The Audacity of HOPE!!! But for real, it worked for me, and this town checks out bikes and is not afraid to say something to that low, low form of humanity - bike thieves. Blech.

Send photos and bike descriptions to Beachhead@Freevenice.org.

Send your check for 5 bucks to Free Venice Beachhead, PO Box 2, Venice, CA, 90294.

Let's do this.