My Pal Sweet Pea

Animals are a joy to have. They light your soul and warm your heart like nothing else can. My Sweet Pea is one heart warmer, full of love who, from the moment he wakes next to me, wants nothing more than to be my pal for the whole day. He is there for me on good days and bad, doesn't matter, he'll bring me a squeak to toss in the air for him bringing it back with a dash for another toss. He lays down next to me when I take a nap and ready to go as soon as I wake. His favorite activity is a brisk walk when we canvass the hood looking for something new. He walks well with a strut in his stride, tail up and wide eyed, especially when squirrels comes his way.

Every animal I've known had their own unique personality, just like people, and all of them respond to love and affection. But I think some have a tad more love to give than others, it just depends how they match up with you. Sweet Pea and me match up pretty well and I can tell because Millie the cat and Sweet Pea got along just fine right from the day they met. That says a lot about Sweet Pea because Millie isn't real fond of other dogs at all except for this one. They sleep together, play together which is really fun to watch one chasing the other and then they switch until they tire enough and lay on the grass next to one another.

I love them both. Millie is a very special cat who watches out for everybody, patrolling the property on a regular schedule. If a gate is open, she'll get me and cry until I follow her where she will sit and stare at the problem until I realize that something isn't right and then fix it--thanks to her diligence. Sweet Pea knows the sound of any car. If a friend pulls up, Sweet Pea knows before we do because he recognizes each individual car. It's amazing what the little guy can hear but when you have ears like a bat it must be quite easy to know when butterflies come around. 

Bar Fly News From LaLa Land

The Pikey Bar and Grill

I like bars. It can be high end or low end, doesn't matter to me because it is the people that go to them that make the bar. It's a place, especially if you're alone where for a while you have companionship in the mix of drinks and conversation. Then there is the eavesdropping of other conversations that are of interest. The hookups, the failed hookups and the subtle seducing that draws your ear and thoughts away from your troubles while listening to theirs.

People come fresh from work to unwind, and hopefully before the end of Happy Hour. They open their collars and wallets as they ease into a chair at the bar. They come in groups and solo to join all the others wanting a moment away from the world. For that is what a bar brings people, a time to get away and be free of constraint. Bars are probably the first social experience man has created. I'm sure the caves of Lascaux France with the painted scenes of wild animals was to entertain guests waiting for some kind of alcoholic concoction served to them after a day of hunting. What could be a better experience than to sit in firelight drinking grog from a horn and recanting the great hunt pictured on the walls all around.

Even during the darkest hours in America when bars were closed and raided, people found a way to gather. Sure they could get a drink at home but why? It's not the same as when you go someplace else to drink because it is the social event that matters. It's in our genes to gather at the watering hole and spend time with complete strangers mixing thought and word with one another. So go on, find a place nearby and take part in this time honored tradition of our species to find a place with a sign hanging out front--Cocktails.    

Keeping Chickens in LaLa Land Is A Tradition

Plymouth Barred Rock pullets in their run at home

In the novel, the Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain, there is the telling of directions to an area of the Santa Monica mountains by a man who raised rabbits in Encino to the murderers in the story. In fact, my uncle raised rabbits in Encino, something he learned as a kid growing up during the depression era to put meat on the table. My own family, in the same neighborhood, raised chickens and probably for the same reason initially. We still have the chickens, not the same chickens but a clutch of hens I get when they are pullets for their eggs but not so much for the meat. That I leave to an immigrant family from Columbia who can't wait for the next meal of a healthy Encino raised chicken. The hens lay well enough for three years at most, after that it's time to start a new brood.

We in Los Angeles, though thought of in rural areas of the country to be city folk who couldn't survive without the farm produce raised in conservative rural areas, would be surprised to know La La Land has a vibrant farm community.  For us, we use the refuse of the chickens for compost in our vegetable garden that brings us apples, grapes, lemons, guava, peppers, tomato, lettuce, squash, herbs and anything else we wish to grow. Even those in apartments will grow something to eat or smoke in containers near a sunny window or balcony. Farming goes on everywhere in the city including bee keeping.

We not only raise enough produce and eggs to give to our neighbors and friends, but they in turn have reciprocated by giving us something they farmed as well. There is an added bonus that our produce brings, fish when a neighbor or friend has extra they caught in exchange. Nothing like fresh tuna with a homegrown salad to share it with. There too are the friends and family who dabble in beer or wine making. Sometimes surprising in content but always accepted and enjoyed because that's L.A. You learn to share space and with that--food.

There is a special beauty in seeing home garden plots. Dotting our city are open areas rented to those who want to get their knees brown and their thumbs green. A place to socialize and have friends visit with a picnic basket in hand. That's La La Land, unabashed liberals greening up So. Cal. So now that Spring is here. Get out your hippie jewelry and join in growing something for your table to enjoy with friends and family now that you're on the farm.

La La Land Has Football

I've wanted to see live football in L.A. for a long long time. The Galaxy club is not really in Los Angeles proper, you can't take Metro to Carson that I know of, at least not without several hours on several buses. You can take the dreaded 405 to get there but at a  mind numbing crawl. Not now though with the new kid in town and he is a very bad boy.

I bought season tickets for me and my buds. We have shirts, caps and pins. We're ready and we can have a great time getting there without driving much and using the Expo line. It is the new Los Angeles coming of age with a hot football club with a very cool name and a sellout brand new stadium in the heart of Los Angeles. Welcome soccer fans everywhere, it's football that the whole damn world plays.

The first two games had winning scores. We watched the action unfold with our home team on television when they beat Seattle by one and then on to Salt Lake where they trounced Real Salt Lake 5 to 1. Our team is doing pretty good without yet having their stadium ready, but we are.

La La Land welcomes everyone from every place on the planet. Our multi-ethnic cuisines blend tastes and talent from far and wide. Now we have added to this wonderful mix a real football team and we can be proud for it. 

Dancing With Ghosts In LaLa Land

DANCING WITH GHOSTS ARTWORK BY CLEMENTE GUZMAN

 
I've been doing that a lot lately, remembering those that are no longer here. It's part of aging, you begin to remember more about what you did with those deceased than the living. For me it's not bad because for the most part, I only remember the good times. Once in a while a memory of something terrible occurs but as time goes on, the mix of memories mellow and become a balm when you feel lonely. That's when you sooth your psychic with memories from another time.

That's the thing with aging, you will feel alone at times because most everyone else you know is either dead or close to it. It's all in how you want to look at it. I don't mind it myself for it gives me the time to remember, and in doing so for that brief moment, relive a wonderful experience. Each of us has in them beautiful memories culled from our past and groomed to fit how we look at ourselves and our lives. These selected memories are there to enjoy as we dance to a rhythm timed just right for us. Let the old have their dance, let them sing to songs of long ago and let them remember through a prism of their own.

I do miss the days in Topanga Canyon, especially in the cold season when we gathered at someone's house to keep warm and play musical instruments to entertain ourselves. We fixed dinners from whatever was on hand and laughed through it all. Each adding a story or two from where they hailed or adventures shared while we listened to old rafters creak and a stream surge into a river below us.

For in these memories I am young again, full of piss and vinegar ready to pit myself against the world. And that is what some of chose to do. Warriors that fought battles in our own worlds, we tried to bring understanding of ourselves to those that didn't know us. Isn't that what we all want? Understanding of who we are.

In A World Gone Mad Kindness Prevails

It's hard sometimes to watch the news about families torn apart for political gain along with a  mix of crude and vulgar language coming from the highest office in the land. It's hard to think the country I love wants to cast out those that yearn to be free because they come from a destitute land. But here in La La Land, life is a little different for this is where dreams can come true.

Sweet Pea and I think about the day on our walks in the hood. How people have shown kindness to me in a variety of ways when I tell them of Wally's passing. There is no judgement of our life style, no callous remarks of my loss but only sympathy for what I'm going through. It helps. For some days are really tough from beginning to end.

What I thought would be easy to adjust to, the freedom of  only caring for myself, isn't so easy. I'm so use to caring for Wally that it became who I was, and now I can't remember to take my pills because I'm not measuring out for the both of us in my morning routine. It's empty here, so very very empty. That too, I thought I would like but it is at times uncomfortable. Though Wally couldn't talk toward the end he was there to talk to, and now those little things that come up in a day that you would only say to someone you love can no longer be said. 


But something magical happens. People, strangers in fact, are kind to you with smiles and pleasantries. It doesn't take much to brighten someone's day. These things we do for one another connects us, makes us all better people, for in that magic moment of kindness we are not alone and that is very important for human beings.

I know that someday this will be behind me, I will feel more at ease and that all the legal issues concerning Wally will be over but right now that is not the case. Right now, he is gone and I miss him to the point that my guts hurt. We met at a dance class and I suppose someday we might dance again. Wouldn't that be nice. 

One Door Opens And Another Closes

For years now I have cared for my spouse who suffered with dementia. He died last month from complications caused by this terrible disintegration of the brain. But it was at great cost to me taking this journey to its end. I'm recovering now from the stress and exhaustion of the final ordeal he went through. A door closed on his life and another opened for mine.

To go through the grieving process, and at the same time, deal with the arrangements for the remains and the legal issues that arise, are the toughest thing a husband or wife has to do. And there is no choice in the matter. No one can do it for you. You can plan, you can have all your ducks in a row but when it comes down to when it happens you are vulnerable as if you were stark naked. You are bewildered to the point of insanity and desperate for a normal of some kind to occur.

I expected his death for a long time. The doctors and nurses told me for years that he wouldn't live another year and yet he did. Even to the end, his body fought for life days longer than the doctor's proclamation to me, "Now is the time, if anyone wants to see him, because he will be gone within hours." That was on a Wednesday and he stayed with us for three more days.

Now I'm at the point of picking up my life, most of what was needed to close Wally's is done. There are still some things left but each day brings less that I must take care of and a bit more for me to get use to. I still look for Wally in bed or his chair that is now gone. The schedule that ruled us everyday of my life for years is now empty and ready for things new.

There was an article I read once on getting over grief. Basically it is replacing old memories with new. Try to do things you didn't do with your partner which would give new memories to have, not that the old memories pass but you're not reliving them without your partner. That was the problem I was having while Wally was still alive. Everything was, "We went here," or "We did this." It becomes unbearable after time and with that I've been looking into forming new memories. I bought season tickets to the games of L.A's new soccer team, the L.A. Football Club.

Season tickets for four at the new soccer stadium, Banc of California Football Stadium that is being built at Exposition Park. It gives me something to look forward to, something exciting I can do with my friends that I never did before. It's very much La La Land to have something new all the time. Only now, for me, it is opening a new door, to new beginnings and new adventures, a new way of life.

I'm hoping I'll do okay. That I will adjust, like so many other things I've had to adjust to, with time and with the help of friends, to a new way of life. That is what makes living in La La Land special, we have taken the golden rule of the universe, adapt or die as a motto to live by. There are no other choices when you think about it.