25 Years Ago in Venice

from Call Someplace Paradise

July 1984

At the laundromat early this morning one of the local street people, a guy in his thirties, was wandering around inside. He was wore shorts and his bare feet were so encrusted with dirt and hardened skin they were like shoes or hooves. Later, when I left, he was out back with a female street person. They had a couple of shopping carts turned on their sides, for seats, and a plastic milk crate for a table, and he was feeding her french fries. They seemed to be having a fine time.

4th of July morning, along the bike path to Santa Monica, even at 7 a.m. the serious picnickers have started homesteading early. A large group has already staked out a whole section of lawn with a dozen tables and a bunch of shade canopies. They have six cases of soda pop, a table full of champagne glasses, etc. On the Venice stretch of beach another group is all over the kiddie playground.

On just a casual bike ride, not a search, I see more than thirty people sleeping out on the sand or grass or in the pagodas. In my imagination they band together like the rabble in the French Revolution, and march on Marina del Rey.

In the current issue of Los Angeles Magazine, Tom Nolan, "Mr. Los Angeles," devotes his entire "On the Town" column to Cafe 50s. He loves it, unlike Karen Kaplan in the LA Weekly, who calls it cute - "maybe too cute." The restaurant, she feels, obviously fills a neighborhood need, but "there's something missing....the feeling just isn't there." In a several hundred word review, she admits to being ideologically opposed to the carefree, prosperous era celebrated by Cafe 50s. Nor does she care for the food, although she acknowledges that it is a very popular breakfast place and there are people "who adore going there for lunch and dinner as well."

Last night there was a TV special, a salute to the Statue of Liberty. It was filmed in New York and Paris, like you'd expect, except for about five minutes at the end where they had extensive footage of Venice Beach: skaters, the weight pen, some masters of break dancing, crowds applauding musicians, etc. The narrator spoke of Venice as an example of freedom at work, and said we have no problems here.

On Rose Avenue a green bus was parked - the Green Tortoise Line, which is the outfit our neighbor the videographer made a documentary about. A man in a mechanic's jumpsuit had the back end open and all his wrenches spread out. The destination on the side of the bus said Shreveport and the one on the top front said Paris. A motto painted in flowing script: "The only trip of its kind." The wall in back of the grocery has a new slogan in bold white paint: THERE ARE ALTERNATIVES TO WAR.

This month's Beachhead has a couple of interesting items. On Page 2: A hand-lettered announcement stating: "Public Notice of Renunciation and Disassociation. This is to advise that: JOHN KERTIS aka JOHN F CURTIS is hereby and henceforth no longer related in any manner of affairs with Robt. Alexander, personally, and the Temple of Man specifically. R.I.P...(drawing of heart) John Kertis." Then on page 9, a nice announcement in 3 different typefaces: "Announcing the Ordination of Morris Moe Stavnezer - Minister of the Temple of Man." Do you get the feeling there's a story here?

I finally read Windowlight, not just an excerpt but the whole book this time. In lieu of a fan letter I called Information in various parts of LA and located Ann Nietzke in Hollywood. She answered the phone and we had a nice literary talk. She took great pains to specify that the character in the book is not her. The British edition will not have her photo on the cover, nor will it have the subtitle "A Woman's Journal From the Edge of America," so that should clear up the confusion.