Right now I’m working in a fairly corporate/industrial area, and when I went for a walk around lunchtime, my surroundings were pretty bleak. Until I came across this on the sidewalk:
Thank you, Vaudeville gag-style litter. You always make me laugh.
This weekend I re-found a house that I first visited about 25 years ago but hadn’t been able to find since. At some point over the years I decided that the house had either been razed or had never actually existed outside of a dream, but it turns out it was only one block over from where I had been looking the whole time. Hooray!
At first I was thinking it looked like that house in the 1980 TV movie of Brave New World, the lighthouse where Keir Dullea hangs himself.
But then I started looking at stills of the movie and this house
didn’t seem like it was that house at all, and then all the stuff in the story about the Alphas and consumption and conformity (not to mention the people worshipping a businessman and a big gold “T”) really started bumming me out and I had to stop looking at images from that film. Dang it. What beautiful futuristic dystopia did this house look like it came from? Then it hit me: Sleeper.
And that made me a little happier. Sure, there’s still a totalitarian society ruled by a despot who drugs his subjects into complacency, but at least the food’s better.
From various posts on social media and whatnot, it seems that a great deal of my friends are taking tropical jungle island vacations. Even Benny is off someplace chasing/getting chased by monkeys. Well, there may not be any monkeys around me but it’s pretty humid and I just discovered these guys
a block away from where we go to vote, so I’m okay. Seriously, the telephone pole here
runs wires up to my street. And actually, if I had waited around long enough I probably would have run into some monkeys because I noticed that these monuments are a designated Pokemon Go pokestop. Monkeys or zombies.
I didn’t stick around though, because 1) that skull on a stick,
2) I already saw some zombies playing Pokemon at the old zoo the other night that were kind of scary even when I was with a group of friends, and this time I was alone, and 3) the occupant of the house was lurking about, using a leafblower in sort of a menacing manner when he spotted me eyeing the additional moai head in the driveway. I thought it best to scoot before this turned into a Most Dangerous Game or Spawn Of The Subhuman situation.
There are actually eleven of these little bungalows on Hollywood Way, lined up on one side of the WB Ranch (formerly the Columbia Ranch).
The eleventh is pretty far down the block from the others, which makes me wonder if there were a whole bunch of other ones that have since been torn down. On the other hand, I think you would have to be an awfully evil witch to tear any of these down. Seriously. They have built-in shelves on the outside of the house. I mean, come on.
According to the Burbank Historical Society*, these were not constructed as backlot dressing rooms or offices but to be used as ordinary homes, for normal people. Here are some of them as they look today.
Up on a hill above Santa Barbara, amongst the blue dicks and the golden shower tree and the other plants that might make you giggle, there is a crumbling house covered in medallions honoring thinkers and artists and scandalous women. Also a house or two. It’s not entirely clear what all these things have in common, but it feels like there is some sort of connection. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s a bit of mystery.
William Harvey, another William Harvey, King Philip, Kate Dickinson Sweetser, Leonard Robbins, Will Durant, Captain Thomas Abbey, the “Tent of Mars,” Peter Ochremenko, Violet Oakley, Vuchinich, Nan Britton, George Record, William Jennings Bryan, Emma Goldman, a prairie schooner, William Penn, Thomas Paine and Mary Wollstonecroft.
The title of this post is not technically correct, as this log cabin
is in Montecito Heights, just northeast of Lincoln Heights, but the John Lloyd Wright-designed building toy isn’t called Montecito Logs, now is it? Actually, unless my set was incomplete, this house has a lot more going on than the Lincoln Logs I had growing up. Bricks. Stones. Metal security doors.
I know John Lloyd Wright didn’t design this particular house, but his influence is definitely here and I think it would be neat if it were included in architectural tours of Wright homes in the LA area. If nothing else, it would really cheese off John Lloyd’s dad, wouldn’t it?
A couple of friends of mine used to live in this middle eastern-themed apartment building in Silver Lake
and while I thought it was cute with its odd conglomeration of onion dome and towers and terraces, I never considered it worthy of much serious attention. But a Facebook group called SoCal Historical Architecture recently posted a photo of it and pointed out how very unusual its asymmetry was for a mere apartment building
(that’s taken head on; look at the towers!), and now I’m feeling bad that I didn’t give it the respect it deserved earlier. I don’t remember if your interior contained any similarly unique elements (from the looks of your new vinyl windows, I’m guessing not), but no matter. 2016 is the year I start giving you the respect you deserve, middle eastern-themed apartment.
Normally I’m not too hep on viral marketing disguised as lost pet notices, but in this case I’m happy this is fake because it means little Laila doesn’t really exist.
You see, if little Laila did exist, I’d be compelled to scour the streets trying to find her so that I could buy her a Big Mac and a large Mountain Dew and I just don’t have the time to do that right now.
When I grow up, I want to be Alison Martino. It’s possible that I am older than her, but I still want to be her when I grow up. If you don’t know who Alison Martino is and you’re interested in pop culture, Los Angeles history, or interesting architecture, you should check out her blog. Be prepared to fall down a rabbit hole or two, but don’t forget to come back here at some point. I don’t think she posted this video over there (though she did call my attention to it), and it’s a perfect example of my “Around the World in Los Angeles” category.
Oh, Lindy, I do love living in this land of bathing girls and whatnot. Wait – who’s Lindy?