Tag: Los Angeles

 

(k)needful things

I guess my most eventful day in Los Angeles in October was my last day in the city. It was not out of enjoyment, but out of “this would only happen to me — lets see how I handle the challenge.”

Yeah, Johnny got himself into a bit of a predicament in La Cuidad de Angeles. Again.

One of the stories I bestowed upon readers of Stonegauge was my venture to the T-Mobile store at Hollywood and Western. What I didn’t happen to mention is what caught up with me upon leaving the store.

Walking is something people take for granted, and knowing I haven’t done all that much of it prior to the trip (though I was in much better shape than a year earlier) I sort of set myself up for my body reacting in an adverse way after the umpteenth mile was registered on the old pedometer.

As I left the store that Friday afternoon, my mind was on lunch and trying to decide where I would go to at the 7th and Fig plaza once I got back downtown… I was leaning towards California Pizza Kitchen and maybe having a cocktail with lunch while blending in with the business crowd. I reveled in mixing in the the business people and seeming like I was just part of the normal financial district workfor–

Ow.

I didn’t trip. I didn’t stumble. I did not fall. I didn’t knock into anything. I did not get hit by anything or anyone. There was no pop. There was no snap.

Ow.

Every step I took started to result in a knife-like pain near my knee. My mind wanted to be on other things but…

Ow.

I was hungry, I thought it would be a good choice to get lunch and rest and figure out my next move after I had sat down for a few minutes and put some nutrition in my belly. I crossed Hollywood Boulevard with a limp while leaning on my cane and headed towards the Metro station.

The escalators down to the station were halted and I looked around for the elevator down to the station to no avail. Walking, climbing stairs, generally further stressing the knee with every step I took while scouting for that damned elevator.

I soon gave up and climbed the concrete stairs down to the station, and hopped on a train back toward Downtown… Of course, the train was packed and I had to stand the entire time.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

…and upon arriving at 7th Street Metro Station, I learned a tactical lesson that I need to heed from that moment on. My mind was on lunch, my mind was on my knee, my mind was on the pain… My mind was not, however, on the fact that there are two platforms at the Julian Dixon Transit Center. Taking the wrong escalator will lead you to an exit point on Hope Street — several blocks away from where you intended to be at the 7th and Fig exit point.

“I think that cancels lunch,” I said with a huff in the empty Blue Line section of the station. I couldn’t make up my mind several times what to do — retrace my steps and correct any mistake I may have made or just leave and deal with what is in front of me — and must have walked another quarter mile inside the station while trying to make up my mind.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Stupid. Ow. Ow.

Back at the hotel — after a few hundred Ow’s from my elongated walk — I tried my best to sit still but couldn’t quite relax. I grabbed lunch in the Galleria and tried to figure out how bad things were. I knew it was likely just a strain but I still had plenty of walking to do before I’d be back in Tampa. Sometime later in the afternoon I asked the concierge desk where the nearest pharmacy was — and after explaining my situation, they pointed me across Flower street to the Uptown Drugs and Gifts shop. They didn’t say WHERE across the street… just across the street.

Now, if I had more free time, I would have loved to have gotten lost and walked around downtown and explored things. On a bum knee? Walking and walking up several stories of steps from Flower street to teh base of the Library Tower, back down to the intersection of Fifth and Flower… Well, it was a lost and found experience that I could have done without.

This Shoulda' Killed Me

Upon arriving in Los Angeles, I was greeted by clear blue skies, temperatures in the 90’s and smog so thick that I couldn’t tell where it ended and the mountains began (that changed as I rode FlyAway closer to downtown).

Yeah, I was happily back in the City of Angels and thinking about the steps ahead of me… Get to Union Station and walk down the ramp to the Metro subway terminal, take Metro to the Julian Dixon transit center, walk up Fig 4 blocks to the Bonaventure. Check in.

Easy enough, right?

Oh, some of that went off without a problem. That walk, however, proved more difficult than it should have been. I employed my cane (which I’ve basically stopped using back at home) because of how uneven the ground would be. Between uneven sidewalk (not steep, just uneven) and a backpack stuffed full (along with a long sleeve shirt stuck in the top loop of the bag), that walk was a challenge. Oh, add to it the heat and you have the makings of quite an undertaking for someone like me.

But lets flash forward. After that walk my head was clearly out of place — not discouraged but I didn’t think I was paying well enough attention to where I was going and what was right in front of me. That brought back memories over and over again of my LAST visit to Los Angeles and my last stay at the Bonaventure hotel.

Not paying attention, poor balance due to uneven surfaces, etc, etc. It had all contributed to my literal downfall.

I checked in, unpacked my stuff and was hungry. I wanted to not only get a bite to eat but maybe snap some pictures somewhere. But the only place that came to mind was on the Bonaventure property. The skybridge crossing 5th street to National City Bank Plaza.

Post lunch (which I had at Flower Street mall underneath National City Bank plaza), I take the sky bridge across Fifth and behold the scene of the crime:

Lemme use my own words from what happened to recount the accident:

So I find this exit to a skybridge — whoo hoo! — and start walking down a long corridor with skylights. I ignorantly think I am on the skybridge itself (the Bonaventure has several and ALL are uncovered) when in fact I am walking beneath the pool deck/patio of the building.

So I come to the end of that hall and find a pair of double doors saying thank-you, leaving-the-hotel, blah-blah-blah…. I can see a flight of stairs down and a flight of stairs up a short distance in front of me. I swing those doors open and walk a few steps — never observing the two steps down immediately in front of me.

Anarchy ensues.

I tumble and smash my face into a concrete-ornamental-edging at the side of the wall. I wither and moan in pain. I’m shaking, I’m bleeding, I think I’ve broken my nose.

2400 miles from home, no family in the greater Los Angeles area… The gimp-with-a-limp has worked himself ineptly into a fine mess.

You look at that edging, you look at those steps… It’s all poured concrete, that’s a two foot drop between those steps and the next solid level. I may have called myself a “gimp-with-a-limp” but that was only partially the truth. I was a gimp-with-a-limp who had a major operation just about 3 months previously. Major neurological surgery and then an accident like this where you miss two steps and smash your nose into the edge of a solid concrete curb with full body force?

That fall should have killed me. Not could have, should have.

I commented on that post from last year, saying I’m barely swollen, no black and blues or anything. Just a little tender in the shnozz but that’s that.

I’d like to say, John, that you are one lucky son of a bitch. Someone out there likes you…

Westward Ho!

Come this time next week, I’ll be preparing for a flight to Los Angeles on my yearly sojourn out of the Humidity of Tampa Bay and into smog (and drier, cooler temperatures) of LA.

Yet I’m curious about a few things — and would love some input…

For example, for those of you who have been to LA before (or perhaps live there), where would you suggest someone go for a good breakfast downtown? I’m more of a pancake person than eggs person, and I have heard and seen more offerings of omlets and egg specials than of a good stack’o’jacks. Sure, I could order room service at the hotel, but I’d rather get out of the building.

Number two, where would you go? My options are limited as I am depending on Metro to get around (no car) so while I can get to Hollywood, Long Beach, Pasadena and some points in between, getting out to Santa Monica or Beverly Hills is a bit more difficult.

And here is a complication that may or not be remedied through comments: I don’t own a laptop, right? I do own a Blackberry and can be kept abreast about problems with work or things that need to be done. If I DID need to get on a PC – where should I go? (Bonaventure business center?)

Smashed

One time of year I always love is when I have to depart from the sunny and just-too-damn-humid climate of Tampa Bay and wind my way to the original sprawl-town-USA locale of Los Angeles — which has actually started to go back to the concept of rail transportation and it makes getting around a snap compared to Cars-only-screw-pedestrians Tampa Bay. The trip takes place in the fall as part of my annual checkup and ABI tuning at the House Ear Institute near downtown LA.

I’ve stayed the last few years north of the Mid Wilshire center, not quite Hollywood, not Downtown, not Wilshire and not that great a hotel but it worked in it’s simplicity. This time around, I pampered myself and stayed downtown at the Westin Bonaventure. I haven’t stayed at a hotel that nice before and a three star rating from certain online travel companies seems cruel. At any rate, the location is extremely centralized — blocks away from subway access, shopping, Union Station (Flyaway is a blessed thing) and what not. It was a bargain compared to my normal hotel – so I paid a few extra bucks to stay there.

What I didn’t take into account was being out of shape in my post-op condition. I also didn’t take into account my unfamiliarity with the building would lead to blood, pain, and embarrassment.

2400 miles from home without anyone to hang out with – I go stumbling around the Galleria in the first few floors of the hotel and try to find a skybridge to other buildings and there shopping offerings.

Cuz what else are you going to do when you’re bored and have a little cash to spend besides shop?

So I find this exit to a skybridge — whoo hoo! — and start walking down a long corridor with skylights. I ignorantly think I am on the skybridge itself (the Bonaventure has several and ALL are uncovered) when in fact I am walking beneath the pool deck/patio of the building.

So I come to the end of that hall and find a pair of double doors saying thank-you, leaving-the-hotel, blah-blah-blah…. I can see a flight of stairs down and a flight of stairs up a short distance in front of me. I swing those doors open and walk a few steps — never observing the two steps down immediately in front of me.

Anarchy ensues.

I tumble and smash my face into a concrete-ornamental-edging at the side of the wall. I wither and moan in pain. I’m shaking, I’m bleeding, I think I’ve broken my nose.

2400 miles from home, no family in the greater Los Angeles area… The gimp-with-a-limp has worked himself ineptly into a fine mess.

I try my best to collect myself. Standing up — no, more like staggering to my feet. I get my bearing and see those stairs I missed, I also see the blood all over my hands and mutter a whiny “Oh shit” in response to this. I stagger up those steps back to those doors I mentioned… I find them locked from the outside. Imagine that.

Looking back, it feels like an eternity trying to decide what to do — go upstairs to who-knows-where or down to street level? I chose the former as to the latter and I find the pool deck of the hotel. I’m too shook up to really know if anyone who I passed spoke to me or even acknowledged me as I walked back to the hotel with blood flowing from my nose.

The fallout of all this is me walking bloodily to the lobby and asking for help, and the hotel springing to action to take car eof one of their customers. I appreciate the hell out of that but I’m stille mbarassed by being there while a convention was gathering and people checking in and out and what not. Of course, hotel security took care of that by getting me behind closed doors and takign care of me…

Probably the most anecdotal happening in LA in my time visiting the City of Angels on my lonesome. This would only have been better with company

Server the Servants

What web hosts have servers in Tampa Bay?

No, I’m not talking about Tampa Bay web design and hosting companies who re-sell server space that is located in Maryland, Washington DC, Atlanta, Los Angeles and the like… I mean a web hosting company with tangible server assets here in Tampa Bay (that I can prove that be true by running a tracert on domain names that on said local servers).

I’m curious because I’ve searched in the past for local companies with web hosting packages, and I’ve only found resellers — design companies that sell parts of their server space that they own with third parties.

Wire(d)less

My annual forray to the West Coast is approaching fast. Yep, it’s been a year since I went to Los Angeles last and I’ll be heading back to the City of Night in early October. While the schedule is nothing I haven’t done before (Tampa to Dallas to LA and back again in 4 days, same hotel that I’ve stayed in the last 2 years) there is a bothersome logistics problem I need to solve between now and my departure date.

Basically it’s some form of communications between LA and home.

For the first time since 2001, I need to stay connected with things back home. Certain groups and parties are counting on the ability to get-in-touch with me so I can do some work while away from the Bay area. That’s good, that’s fine. This isn’t a vacation after all. Also I need to stay in touch with family so I don’t show up on a milk carton if no one hears from me in 12 hours or more (yeah, the fam gets frantic if I don’t stay in touch).

So what are my choices?

I’ve looked at older laptop computers being resold on Ebay and by Dell itself as a possible solution — though my hotel doesn’t offer Wireless access, nor are their dataport connections free. I’ve been casually looking at the Danger Sidekick 2 – which would give me both IM and Internet access while on the go — but I’m not so keen on the huge purchase costs as well as a nice large monthly fee to keep the thing usable.

My Ogo is a joke — barely holds a charge, and I canceled the account anyway. Most other IM devices are extra costly…

I’m in a land of wonderment, without much cash to throw around and solve my dilemna.

Lucky Hat

I bought a hate in early 2004 — before I officially launched Boltsmag, before the Lightning had cemented the fact they were on a run to immortality and the Stanley Cup. A tan hat by Nike with the Lightning emblem on it, a velcro fastener in back with “LIGHTNING” embroidered on it and the Nike logo sown into the bill.

It’s a little small, I almost think it’s a woman’s cap… Never the less, I wore that thing from January until I attended game seven of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and saw the team hoist Lord Stanley chalice. This is my good luck cap for the Lightning… Or it was at least… or is it still?

Back in March 2005 I was dating Jenna and went with her to Target to pick out another hatt. After all, my Lightning cap was soiled terribly and really bothersome due to it’s size. I picked out an Orange County Chopper’s hat and wore that from March until just a few days ago…. On rare occasions — like opening night – I wore the Lightning hat. The Lightning won on opening night but have been lackluster for most of the season.

So when Madeline chewed up my O.C.C. hat, I threw a shit fit and went out shopping for a new hat. I couldn’t find something I wanted at Target and couldn’t get down to the Mall to buy a new sports orientated hat… I sulked… I was wearing my smallish Lightning cap at the time… I’m still wearing the cap on a daily basis now…

…And the Lightning are winning again…?

They’ve looked like a different team in the last several days… I disregarded their victory over Los Angeles, was a bit surprised when they beat up Marty Turco and Dallas… Tonight’s game versus the Thrashers makes me wonder mightily about the powers of this ballcap… I know it’s not a can’t-lose cap, but there’s something to it. I’m sure of it.

Real Estate

It’s scary to find that there are more places I can afford rent wise in Los Angeles than there are in teh Tampa Bay region.

Unless I suddenly win the lottery that is :}

Laurel Oak germination

It finally happened a few days ago…

One thing I love to try to do is get a tree seed to germinate. I tried and failed with Slash Pine seeds. It’s tough enough to GET them and even tougher to get them while they are mature.

I tried and failed with Laurel Oak acorns for two years as well. I was getting them when they were dried out — had fallen tot he ground. Some of them were still good but most had lost their moisture and were basically dead.

So, during October after I came back from Los Angeles, I happened upon this little guide to colleciton and storage of Acorns. I had no clue that I needed to keep acorns I collected cool and moist. I also had no clue that I could indeed take them off trees while they were still there (which I had, orignally, but then allowed Acorns to dry out and blah).

So I planted an Acorn for shits and giggles in a pot a couple of weeks ago – oen that I had been storing — and lo and behold there was a little bundle of joy that had come into being just last week… Well, that is… Until the cats found it sitting in the sun… 🙁

The fact is I got something big to grow — big for me that is — that I usually can only find out in the wild. Now if only I knew someplace to PLANT these things where they won’t be mowed down while young…. :p

The trip

Where to begin, where to begin?

“I’m only sorta gimpy. I can get there by myself.” I told a curb side check in agent for American Airlines. He smirked and let out a laugh and I went on my way into Tampa International Airport to start my trip on Tuesday morning. I had my Eastman backpack swung over my shoulders, dress pants on and my “trusty” cane in hand as I navigated the terminal and made my way to the airside concourse.

American Airlines made it real easy on me and helped me out the entire way to and from Burbank. Being it lead onto the plane by a Stewardess in Tampa or the ticket-agent trying to get me a replacement flight to Tampa from Dallas if I didn’t make that conneciton flight (more on that later)… AA kicked ass in their service.

The big thing about this that upset my parents and extended family was I was going 2200 miles by my lonesome as my first trip solo. Not to mention I’m still a gimp to one extent or another, walking with and without a cane at times.

Not like I needed to care about being gimpy once I got on the streets of LA.

If there’s one difference that is night and day in La Cuidad de Angels compared to Tampa/St. Pete and the suburbs, it’s the fact that pedestrians have the right of way. Here in Florida, I’d get run down sooner than a car actually wait to turn during a green light. In Los Angeles? I got honked at for not walking and waving cars on at an intersection. That was the biggest adjustment, and the most pleasing.

The other thing that hits me hard every time I am out there is getting used to being surrounded by minorities. Mexicans, Japaneese, African Americans, etc…. One huge eclectic mix. Here in the south, people can only hold closed minded views and hold fear when thinking about situations like that. Me? I fucking LOVED it.

Sure, there is the idea you could get jumped by a gang here and there — that was before I did some thinking and observing. Grandma’s were out walking with canes, unmolested by teens hanging out and kids walking around with CD players weren’t being attacked… I think that gives you an idea it’s safe to be out and about during the daytime and not so intimidated…

At any rate, half the reason I was able to do this trip was my buddy out west, Mark Albracht who I know from SkyscraperPage.com. Me and Mark have known each other a while and have been friends for the past year +…. He had picked me up at the airport and we also spent some time in Hollywood looking around and stuff. It was fun to be out there and see some of the places that I have only heard about (the Kodak theater, the Egyptian….. The Walk of fame…).

Damn, there is so much to talk about and yet I am just rambling through it. And at the same time, there is little to talk about because I didn’t do much while out there. While I liked being on my own on a trip, I would have loved a peer with me (not a parent) to enjoy some of the things that I passed on or didn’t spend enough time with.

Of course, the trip did have it’s low point – my birthday . The day started off as it normally did in LA but I had an appointment that morning. A long overdue ABI checkup. What went so bad? Being forced into an MRI that i didn’t want to have done, having to sit around for four hours until I had the prodcedure, then being in physical and emotional pain with how I was dealt with by the staff… To summarize my birthday was to summarize my life: spent with me trying to look good, voyaging, meeting a friend, being duped by a faux ally, pain, humiliation and ultimately ending alone. Great attitude, wouldn’t you say? 😛 😉

Oh, I forgot to add the part about Burbank. Saturday morning I left my hotel (after barely getting any sleep) to encounter the worst fog I had seen first hand since I was a kid. The flight was grounded until almost 9 and could have made me miss my conneciton flight home… And like I said, a ticket agent stepped right up and arranged things for me if I did miss my connection. Luckily, once airborn, we made up time lost and actually came in ahead of schedule (but still not enough time for this guy to grab a meal while on the DFW International concourse.

I’m planning on getting away some more in coming weeks. A trip to NY for instance…. Who knows where else. Where I’m wanted and where I’m curious would most likely be it.

Six years of Silence

You know, I was going to brush off this anniversary as another one that was a major milestone but also something I could forget because my day-to-day is busy enough without having to nit-pick at the past.

But it’s an interesting anniversary none the less — one that goes from silent to booming in 4 years and applies only when I’m lazy now.

I went deaf 6 years ago to the day.

I had an acoustical neuroma (egad, did I spell that right or wrong for the umpteenth time?) removed out in Los Angeles at St. Vincent’s Medical Center by doctor Derald Brackman and company… I woke up – not sure when, can’t recall what I was told in the past – with the only sounds in my head a constant tenninus and my own voice when I spoke. Of course, I hadn’t been able to hear much before that, as I had been constantly losing hearing in both ears since 12 or 13, but six years ago — my world went totally silent.

I can’t remember all the details – I checked in the night before to the hospital. I didn’t shave my head, like I should have done, and that resulted in a gnarly haircut… I do recall me quipping about the Big One hitting during the operation (“what happens then?” I asked those who were prepping me) and I can recall the immediate aftermath of surgery – being chained to a bed and being asked to touch my nose with my restrained hands.

Of course there is more to it – my life now with sound and the Auditory Brainstem Implant has beaten deafness. There are anecdotes from when I went deaf and the immediate aftermath to regaining my hearing in 2001 with the ABI… And of course me aborting setting up the ABI in March 1998 and delaying having sound back to begin with… but alas, that is for another time because my computer is in need of help.

Kobe Bryant and the Spoils of an NBA Star

Saving a post from KillTheweb.com’s blog because we may be getting rid of it. Want to save this before it goes the way of the dodo

I think by now all of you Kobe Bryant case. Maybe you’re thinking his accuser is just a gold digger, maybe you’re thinking Kobe is just another sports-star-turned-human?

In all likelihood, this is a guy who’s spoiled life from the age of 18 has finally caught up with him.

Think about it – Kobe went in the NBA draft, forgoing college, and was selected by the now relocated Charlotte Hornets. What did he do? He whined, saying he wouldn’t play in the Carolina’s and manipulated his way to Los Angeles.

Nice start to a career, isn’t it? Being handed millions upon millions of dollars just to suit up for a team and then saying “No! I don’t want to! Not there! Nooooooooo!”

He’s played some great games but he’s also been a selfish bastard at times, complaining he wants more, wants more, “I wanna be featured!”

There’s no I in team, Kobe.

And of course, even if things get settled in his favor, he’s gotta patch things up with his wife… a 4 million dollar ring helps for starters but… Um… That just proves how materialistic a society we are, and if she really wants to prove that with him – take him for half of everything he owns in divorce.

Kobe needs a wake up call — and this experience will be that, unless things are manipulated in his favor once again.