Making me CROSS(walk)

So on the heels of hearing that more people (at least in California) are killed in crosswalks than while jaywalking - here's more proof that He Who Loves to Jay, Lives to See Another Day.

In theory, crosswalks are supposedly designed to make it safer to cross the street, right? In reality, they offer a false sense of security and visibility for pedestrians. Frogger, anyone?

I used to (selectively) kick cars when they violated crosswalk rules (next blog) and common sense. Now, I realize that - with almost every crosswalk crossing containing unacceptable chances of death and injury, drivers who practice sensible and safe behavior at these intersections of People Vs. Machine are all too uncommon.

From Yesterday's Almost Hit Parade:

Picture me and a very Old Man attempting to cross Washington Boulevard at Culver Center from opposite sides of the street - WITH A SIGNAL. On my right, as I step into the street, I see a car languidly moving into the intersection, turning left, hoping to proceed through the crosswalk and head towards Sony. So far, so good, right? Left? Indifferent? So was I...

Flash forward a few precious seconds. The car is now out in the middle of Washington Boulevard and we're well into the crosswalk when the latest example of stupid, selfish, ASSuming drivers rears its ugly cylinder head. To give you a picture: The car is where it should be - minding its business, waiting for the foot traffic to pass. We're where we should be - IN THE CROSSWALK. (Here's where, once again, the bets get made and things get dicey. Fast. The Old Man is halfway to the middle of the boulevard and I'm AT the middle of the boulevard now which leaves a gap of maybe 15 feet and closing which this moron is now attempting to shoot. (Why do I think of bullets and cars as inextricably intertwined? Deadly power at the fingers of idiots? Metal vs. flesh? The inability of "Oops" to stop the Laws Of Physics in their tracks and repair all the resulting damage to flesh and bone and families?) Anyway. Just so you understand - she's not idly, casually, slowly taking this turn towards the gap (which might, in the moment, at least inspire confidence in her driving ability, if not her judgement) - NO - she's actually revving up from her rolling position - you know, the typical I'm -waiting -for- you- dumb- pedestrians -to -cross -and- just- as -soon -as -you're -clear-I'm -comin'- on- thru position (ie: the middle of the road) and gunning it like a hitter in baseball exploding out of his slow and expected turn a few feet off of first as he decides then and there to catch everyone by surprise and stretch a pedestrian single into a risky and oh-so-thrilling double. I'm stunned. I can't believe she's doing it. It's like the fat kid who can only hit homers deciding he's Charlie Hustle . It's a Volvo. You're a Mom? Are you kidding me? If she wore a different face - say Young Guy In A Truck, Young Gal in a Mustang, Cellphone User In A Coma, I might understand her - I'd certainly fucking recognize her having seen this crosswalk gambit too many times, in too many places, but look at her. Late Thirties - Educated, Upper Middle Class, Horn-rimmed glasses, Kind of dweeby and with a Gal pal, both hands on the wheel, perfectly sane looking. And STILL - doing this." At this precise point where the Old Man's life flashes before my eyes, I see she sees him and also see her now go into that doubly-dangerous Waffle Face. You know the one: the face your friends or siblings made just as their feet left the diving board and their braingears attempted to turn that routine, planned-to, perfect Jackknife into something else in midair. The look that hung there suspended between two beautiful possibilities and caught staring down frozen at the cold reality awaiting them. You watching bemused, suspended in time along with them, as their confidence went slack and the result was a gutsmacking, balls whacking hybrid of both maneuvers, an ugly and painful bellyflop smashup of mixed intentions and sudden changes of mind.

So,just as her Waffle Face pops out, all confidence in her ability vanishes and the Volvo seems to (ever so slightly) buck, as she now (far too late) starts to calculate just how close she can still cut it. I stop her. And seem to make the Volvo - if not her - change its mind. Even though she doesn't apparently see me, she hears my HEY - not screamed - just barked - and looks up startled, like the nice girl caught passing notes in class by the Substitute. The Old Man looks up from his shuffling feet as the car brakes decide to lock completely. ARE YOU IN THAT BIG A RUSH? (I slow to a stop now, point at my watch) HUH? IS IT THAT IMPORTANT TO YOU? She blinks at me like a frightened rabbit. Like I'M the crazy one. ARE YOU IN THAT BIG A RUSH? I repeat - just for effect. (I pause, stand there, reclaiming the area between the white lines for all mankind. Now she's uncomfortable. Awwww. Silly Rabbit. Tricks are for you. I can see/feel her friend muttering shit under her breath about me, a "Yeah, yeah, buddy, whatever." I stare on at the driver, from behind my bugeye, black sunglasses and she looks back at me, blankly, busted. I point at my head as I pass her bumper and The Old Man reaches safety THINK! (disgusted) MAN... (shake head as I walk away). The Volvo skulks past.


Day in, day out, people driving 3000 pound missiles around and how many of them are doing so consciously? Consistently? Even in f'n crosswalks. Terrifying. And they're they go zzzzzoooooom...crossing the line(s) of right and wrong and gambling with your life as they roll on through their deluded dayze. I'm inclined to agree with the statistics and take my own proactive chance where i can with jaywalking, picking my time and place to leap across the squash zone rather than rely on rules no one gives a damn about and the Average Driver.

Me, angry? No, me cross. Safely.


Ribbit.

Weren't "nathan" goin' on here fer awhile...

Yes. it's official. Regarding this blog - the wheels definitely fell off.
But now they're back on and so am I. Obviously, I wasn't driven to post anything and...
if it takes a few gratuitous puns and clumsy transportation metaphors to get back up to speed, so be it, damn it!

Let's see...it's February 12th. WTF??!!! FEBRUARY?!!! How long HAVE I been away? Did I miss the Super Bowl?!(Hey - speaking of cars - maybe they should change his name to "Wrecks" Grossman. Or rename the mistake-prone Ursines as DUH Bears.) The answer: no - I didn't. But in the interim,I did miss a wide variety of buses, MTA, Culver and Blue, too. And by that much. But I didn't miss everything...

Some random observations from the field:

Despite the warning posted to the contrary, every bus driver I meet loves to talk. As long as you don't stand in front of their mirror.

I'm starting to learn their names. (Their routes, no. Thank goodness, the paper maps on board give me one more way to avoid the Internet.)

I'm beginning to see the wisdom in the monthly pass and the complete lack-thereof in the "in-flight entertainment" playing on the bus monitors. (Oooh - an idea for the next blog! I am soooo BACK!) Of the bus, that is. Where it doesn't smell like ass. Much. (Too bad, I can't say the same for those puns and metaphors.)

le beaujolais nouveau est arrive!

today is the annual launch of beaujolais nouveau!! all over the world, vino lovers like us are toasting and sipping the freshly harvested fruits from the beaujolais region of france.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! it is on mornings just like this one (rare, sadly, lo they are) that we are glad to have our drivers in waiting (specifically the Culver 6).

the worldwide awareness for this juicy juice is due primarily to Georges Duboeuf. in the '50s, he gave up studies in Paris to travel around the Maconnais region via bicycle to help sell his family's Pouilly-Fuisse.

today, we joined the US importer -- WJ Deutsch & Sons -- for a sampling of this year's vintage. at the tasting, Georges Deboeuf and Deutsch presented a check for $7,000 to the LA Food Bank!

and now, to nap!

PS: lil' bro: your bday goodies are en route!

being home on Halloween rocks!

some of the all-time best outfits haunted our door last night. lil' chillens from far and wide made their way to Culver City for a helluva take on sweets.

just think, if i'd had an auto, i might've felt obligated to attend a party here or there. instead, i sipped vampire wine, laughed with friends in front of crackling fire place, cuddled kittens and doled out jelly eyeballs, skull pops, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate ... even a cupcake or two.

why is halloween only once a year?!

things to do without a car:

1. walk by Kirby's Pet Store on your way home from the Farmer's Market and exit with a new bundle of fluff & sass

2. throw a "cracklin" duraflame on the fire and watch Batman Begins with your pals, lolo and po

3. join your significant other on the walk home from work in the quiet of the late, late night

4. hop the bus to see Jack in 3D (with new & improved Roy Orbison styled glasses)

5. watch a meth junkie tweak and twitch on the bus as she multitasks and begs for quarters

So...Vegas

Not our favorite city.

• Smoke
• Ridiculous airport
• Are-you-kidding-me taxi lines
• Non-stop noise
• Sensory confusion and overload
• The general smell of ass near the slot machines

We recently discovered that you can do Vegas and avoid some of the nonsense.
Item 1: Flexcar
$100 roundtrip, including gas, insurance and any maintenance.
No line, no early check-in and wait.

Item 2: Don't fuck around
Go directly from your hotel room to dinner. Vegas has upped the ante on stellar restaurants. One of our faves is Craft. The room is much too large but the somehow the service team makes it fun and the sides are amazing.

Item 3: Stick with people you dig
Head back to your room with wine and champagne. Spend time talking with people you love. You get to talk in your normal voice; you aren’t jostled, or hurried. The smells are up to you.

To quote the ubiquitous credit card ad: priceless.

Well, blow me down (the road) or Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

In my last post - about our Flexcar jaunt to Palm Springs - I mentioned
something about having Willie Nelson along for the ride. Well, as bad
as yesterday's errand-running adventure was for me, I think Willie had it worse this week. All for having Mary Jane along for the ride in his tour bus.

I mean, come on Louisiana! I know Bush and the Republicans screwed you and now with noone coming to New Orleans y'all are a little desperate for revenue but busting Willie for pot is just UnAmerican. And well, just plain MEAN. Pulling over Willie's tour bus to look for marijuana is like pulling over Popeye's boat to look for spinach: OF COURSE he has some on board. Where do you think Willie gets the strength at his age to play music for the masses three hours a night and god knows how many nights in a row? (Hmm. Given this weeks e-coli scare, maybe Popeye would be happy to switch places with Willie. I bet Bluto's been kicking his ass non-stop.)

No doubt Wille and the Family were (pardon the pun) ROLLING thru the state trying to spread a little good cheer in these hard-luck times and backwater bayous and this is how you thank them down there?

Oh and if you think a pound and a half of marijuana in this case means "Intent to Sell" not only do you not know jack, you sure as shit don't know Willie. That was ALL for the boys and girls in the band. Or in the Family. Hell, it was probably just enough pot to get 'em thru to the next whistle-stop. Maybe the DA should change the charge to "Intent To Share." Regardless, once again, I'm rooting for the Outlaw.

learning from the kiddos

our culver digs provide a long sidewalk in front of our house and down the side yard. on weekend mornings, wee ones scoot by on their own four-wheeled chariots. they get especially excited when they come to the end of the sidewalk and the sloping ramp that gives them some acceleration. always elicits brrreerrrrurrr sounds followed by giggles and hoots.

how much more fun would our city streets be if we were each using our own internal horsepower to propell our scooter along and, at the same time, making our own engine noises?

vroom, vroom

right place, wrong stuff

advertising and messaging on the bus makes sense. you've got a captive audience who actually can take their eyes off the road and focus on what you have to say.

inside the LA metro bus system you'll find printed display panels and small, LCD screens. the printed display panels are, for the most part, really well done and provide a tasty mix of art and useful tidbits (Poetry in Motion and the schedule changes for corresponding routes, for example). there are a few cheesy ads from ambulance chasers and debt consolidators, but these seem almost demure in their quiet printedness.

the screens show content managed by TransitTV. folks, this is some of the all time poorest use of full motion video and place-based media we've ever seen. the content is obviously repurposed from use on traditional networks. we say obviously because the logos, show titles, web sites etc. all get lost when shown on the little screens. the few slides that are printed in large enough type to read from a bus seat typically contain multiple typos and are random headlines culled from front pages. and, most of the content is in English; this might shock you, but English is not the primary language on the metro bus routes.

we might mind the lame ads for the “work from home” scams less if the content on the screens was even a smidge better and more relevant. why use this valuable time to showcase snow boarders at a competition in Utah? why not publicize LA-based events? theater shows, art openings, new restaurants, local sports scores, and cultural celebrations, to name a few. (to be fair, there is often a print ad for the Hollywood Bowl, but it doesn’t include the schedule (which could be easily updated via a digital, visual program)).

or, here’s a thought: communicate the location and availability of programs that are useful to the onboard audience such as business development workshops, ESL classes, car sharing programs, bicycle repair tips, job postings and more.

yeah, yeah ... we know that TransitTV probably thinks it's saving money by just using the same programming on all screens across the states. and that going after national advertisers is the best way to make bank. well, it might be but only if the advertisers are chumps and don't care about actual ROI because we've never seen moving images get so little attention as the screens on the LA metro.

cultural immersion

we hadn't ventured onto olvera street before. so with tickets to Culture Clash's new show at the Mark Taper in our pocket, we felt today was the day.


we strolled in the sunshine. listened to music. watched kids play and families gossip. grabbed lunch at El Paseo, along with a tasty margarita (as you can see from the blurry pic, our table neighbors may have had more than one).

Water & Power is really good, filled with great characters and terrific performances. the three founders of Culture Clash, also leads in the play, work amazingly well together. their closeness is palpable and necessary for the storyline.

there is a timeline titled "how'd we get here?" in the program. it begins at 8,000BC and chronicles Los Angeles-area milestones. here's an entry for 1954:
"the police swarm through Mexican American neighborhoods searching for illegal immigrants in 'Operation Wetback.' agents locate over 1 million illegal immigrants. some American-born children are deported along with non-citizen parents. agents begin stopping 'Mexican-looking' citizens on the street and asking for identification."

clearly not one of our best moments.

the route home was detoured due to filming which involved a huge, smoldering hole in a downtown city street, complete with a taxi on its side. a crowd had gathered for the free entertainment ... a very lovely, diverse Angeleno crowd, brought together in the afternoon heat by our natural inclination toward human interaction and the uniqe surrealness of this city that we share ... just the way it should be!

Hybrid to Hell?

Driving on Labor Day has always seemed like work to us, so we’ve avoided it. Of course, living just off the beach in Santa Monica for 10 years made that easier. It seemed those car-obsessed masses fuming and reeling from the congestion of the 10 Freeway and the 405 were all headed to our neighborhood anyway, so most of our efforts on the long weekend went toward avoiding them.

This year, we decided to join the rest of the lemmings and hit the highway, but driving in the opposite direction. We may be just as crazy, but we’re a smarter kind of crazy. Or are we? Palm Springs this weekend was easily into the triple digits and apparently still “off-season” so when our old beach buddies from Santa Monica invited us out to their new digs in the desert, we fired up the Flexcar in the cool belly of its Batcave and took off toward the desert heat.

And liked it. Of course, it’s all in the timing and having Willie and Waylon and Dwight Yoakam along for the ride helped.


Yet, the best driving (for me, anyway) came on the Westin’s Mission Hills Gary Player golf course – where the rates are still cheap because the Golf Rat regulars have yet to come out from under their rocks. There the fairways are fair and square and more forgiving than most and the deserted course was devoid of party-pushing pinheads and sputtering putterers as well. Kevin and I quickly breezed through 18 holes before the cicada-drone heat and the humility got to us. Back at the Rancho ranchero, the pool was cool, the golf widow wives were too and the margaritas frozen.



And when it was time to leave, the cumulus clouds provided cover for our trek back with the American masses. No blinding setting sun in our windshield sights but a quick flash of lightning (!) was a sure sign from the Gas Guzzling Gods to hit the Drive-Thru Starbucks for a jolt of caffeine. Safety first/thirst. And save for two fender-bender slowdowns (not involving us), we made good time and shockingly HAD a good time Flex-ing our Freeway muscles. Equally amazing, Flexcar’s new Hybrid Honda Civic still feels like the first easy-to-drive Honda I drove back in 1980 . For just over a hundred bucks (gas included! insurance included!) we got our communal little Hybrid for more than 48 hours which meant a lot of cylinder-bang for our bucks. And for little work. Of any kind.

by nature or nurture, we tend not to be "joiners." one friend wiser than we recently recommended that we stop belittling ourselves for not joining more groups and to be loud and proud weavers, weaving together the ideals that work for us from the various groups we check out.

however, make no mistake that by choosing not to own a car and therefore curb the whims to hop in and drive when the mood strikes (as it inevitably will) is our way of joining the peace movement. choosing to find new ways to be less dependent on oil is our way of joining with parents who want their kids home and out of war. it is our way of joining with back-to-the-landers who work to reincorporate locally and mindfully produced agriculture into our societies. it is our way of joining with other likeminds who say: we can do better, simply because it feels better.

fourplay

if you put up a fete within a rock's throw of the Green Machine 1, we're pretty much a sure thing. we like to get out and about; ain't no lack of four wheels gonna slow us down.

so last night we trekked to the marina for the fourth of four parties given by monsieur hotcakes, Fernando. yes, that's no typo, four soirees.

it was an easy trip down washington but we were left waiting due to the weekend schedule. fortunately we have a new toy. prepare yourself, this blog just went full color. we've got a digital camera and we're not afraid to use it.

if you see a flash and some goofy looking folks posing at a bus stop, you've got a pretty good idea who it be.

enjoy!

flexcar as magic carpet ....

anyone else out there rented a flexcar and then began manifesting everything they've been asking for?

is the flexcar magic?

or, is it just that we took this leap of faith, tried a little somethin new and the universe is serving up all the tasty morsels are hearts desire? can it really be that simple?

rockin' downtown

so we bus-stopped into downtown Los Angeles last night to meet our gorgeous friend Pammy for an evening of music and art at MOCA's Night Visions.

yep, the bus to downtown. LA. and ya know what? it was pretty cool. there were people milling about, headed into restaurants, coffeeshops still serving on patios. it was, like, a city.

yeah, sure, there were still homeless folks setting up their cardboard homes for the night. but hey, it's a free country and LA's got that great climate. it is what it is.

but there was, dare we say it, a vibe. a feeling of energy, of happenings. and even though we were headed back to the Double C by 10:30pm, it was obvious that things would still be going down 'til much later.

we left with a promise to return for further investigation into this evolving landscape ...

We started this blog as part of an eco-challenge to ourselves ... go without a car, see what LA is like from the vantage of a bus, source new ways to get mobile, and at the same time, be a little kinder to mother earth.

Occasionally, and lately frequently, we are shown other reasons why NOT driving so much might be good for our health, too. Our lovely pal Lori and her little mustang were recently rammed by a giant F-150. Fortunately, she's physically fine; the same cannot be said for the 'stang.

Then, over lunch, you read a story like Rick Rielly's piece in Sports Illustrated, and tears well up so quickly there is simply no way to stop them.

Here's a link to the article. And, before you drive, please take some time to buckle up and envision a safe journey for all!

Schtuff for Safe and Savvy Sojourns

1. Handiwipes: Typically the seats and handrails on the buses and trains we've taken are far cleaner than the baskets and shopping carts at our local Ralph's. Still, occasionally, you’ll happen upon a substance that you simply don’t want to continue with on your hands.

2. Change: Duh. Though, if you’re going to use the Metro, a monthly EZ Pass ($52 per month) or all-day pass ($3) are better options (versus chucking in quarters each time). However, if you have extra change, you will be very popular with other less prepared passengers who only have singles.

3. Kleenexes: Public transportation is no time to touch eyes, nose or mouth at any time. Nuh uh.

4. Face Spritz: Waiting for the bus can leave you in the sun and exposed to exhaust, so it’s handy to have a small spritzer to freshen and refresh.

5. Reading Material: Helps the time at the bus stop pass more quickly (you’d be surprised how long five minutes seems when you’re waiting). And, prevents the unconscious stare at the occasional rider-as-human-oddity accompanying you on your journey.

6. Patience: Ha, ha. Well, we try.

7. A Bag: The perfect yoga mat bag for the bus...done. The search for a general tote-all continues. Backpacks smack other passengers in the face when you try to sit down. Suggestions and comments welcome!

8. Flashlight, whistle or some other talisman: While it's probably safer waiting for the bus than walking to your car in a dark, deserted parking lot, you should still carry something that helps you feel certain in your safety. Krav Maga training is useful, too.

See you 'round town!

welcome to socal ...

bus

beach

bbq

beers

buds

bands

buses

(followed by some other stuff that belongs on a tooooootally different blog ;)

our crystal ball for public transpo

if you are contemplating utilizing the bus for trips around town, there are tricks to be learned. one of the best is SoCal Metro's Trip Planner. it's like Mapquest, only accurate.

you just pop in the starting locale, where ya wanna go, date, time, yadda yadda ... and bing, bam, you've got a trip planned.

race ya to downtown!

Trip Planner link

Loco-motion

When we let folks know that our primary form of transportation around town is the bus, they consistently pause and then say “Aren’t there, like, crazy people on the bus?”

And, yes, you do witness the occasional turrets breakdown or hear discussions with invisible friends on the bus. Once there was a man in his late fifties who sounded like he might have been the inspiration for Beavis with a continuous loop of Buck, Buck Man, Flash Gordon, Buck, Buck, OK Buck, take over Buck, Buck Wheat, yeh, yeh, yeh, Buck, you’re in for it now Buck, Buck, Flash Gordon, Buck, OK Buck, yeh, yeh, yeh …

However, look around while you’re driving. Think about that slack jawed person, staring off into space, next to you on the freeway. Or the guy with veins popping out of his forehead as he wheels his monster truck in a fury through traffic, whizzing past yellow lights and tailgating. Or the woman, on her cell phone, gesticulating wildly with lipstick in the free hand, looking as if she’s been hungry for most of her life, driving (is that really the word?) a super-sized SUV on a neighborhood side street at a ridiculous rate of speed.

Our final analysis of crazy on the bus: Not enough.