When living in a city entirely based on car culture (exceptions given to Critical Mass groups and those subject to public transportation), we see our neighborhoods in a very particular and distanced way. Driving by quickly, through the windshield or side window, abstracted by whatever weighs most heavily on our minds at any given drive-by moment. Last Friday we did a walk about with our friend A in our own neighborhood, and not only had a wonderful hot summer evening kind of time, but saw things from a very different vantage point.
The magical realism of our local liquor store is both a landmark and a beacon.
One of many of the Los Burritos chain:
No one in a car would know they have a mascot. Go figure.
The Gold Room. One of the last local hold outs against the encroaching hipsters. Is there a reason the word "roach" is embedded within the word "encroach"?
I never even knew this taco truck was here. And it was here three nights last week. It is just far enough off the boulevard that it might fly under an autoists radar.
Apparently, time travel is for sale in Echo Park. Where or when do YOU want to go?
The Echo. The current heart of indie music in Los Angeles.
Is there a subliminal message here? Purposefully, or just coincidence? And what is the message?
And finally, we arrive at Taix. The best French sports bar I have ever been to.
Playing at Taix that night was this woman, whose name escapes me. Her music is a lovely little cross between Jewel and Hope Sandoval.
Next act up, Fifty Cent Haircut. They were great. I would buy a CD.