Stairways To Heaven

Back in the days Silver Lake was a desirable location for film studios. We are talking 1910s to 1930s here and the area where Silver Lake is situated today was – well, let’s say rural. Plenty of space, plenty of sun – ideal for building studios and filming. From roughly the 1920s on it also became quite the place to live, because the city encouraged developers to build there. The lovely hills and the Silver Lake reservoir as a focal point served as an additional lure. With the terrain being as hilly as it is, a lot of houses were reached by staircases being built in lieu of “proper” streets and they are still there today.

The most famous one is this one:

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Yes, everybody has seen it – that is where “The Music Box” with Stan and Ollie was filmed.

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Many of the staircases are beautifully kept, with tiny gardens planted left and right, and nearly all of them are cool and shady.

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The reward after climbing up – and up – and up a bit more – is an amazing view over a green and hilly neighborhood so very much unlike the stereotypical idea many out-of-towners have of the city.

But psssst, we better not tell them, or we will have hordes of tourists trampling up and down the staircases. Or maybe not – the staircases of Silver Lake might be a tad too quiet and serene for them.

The Invisible Sport

Considering that the US is the reigning Olympic rugby champion, the sport itself is rather invisible. If you now do a double take and say “what?” – this fact is little known outside of rugby circles, but true.

Rugby was played at the Olympics in 1900 (Paris), 1908 (London), 1920 (Antwerp) and 1924 (Paris). 1920 the US team competed for the first time. There were only two teams, France and USA; the US team won. 1924 three teams played, France, the US and Romania. The US team won again, whereupon some nasty fighting started in the stadium. One US player was even struck down with a walking stick. When finally the American anthem was played, general jeering started.

After 1924 rugby was struck from the list of Olympic sports and never reintroduced. Hence, the US is to this day… well, I already mentioned that.

Rugby is truly an invisible sport in the US. Which does not mean that it is nonexistent. It is just not on the radar for many people, even though there are so many clubs around. A complete list of just the clubs in California can be seen here.

My favorite team logo is the one of Eagle Rock:

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It is witty on so many levels and always makes me smile.

Tournament Odds 5,000 : 1

The Eagles (aka the US team at the Rugby World Cup) socked it to the British side: UK 28 / 10 USA. That would be the equivalent of a bushman shooting down a fighter jet with a blowgun. Well, nearly.

The US rugby team is currently ranked 15th on the world scene, just below Tonga and just above Romania. This is a far step up from the 30s rankings of a few years ago, but is still nowhere near the elite levels of the top eight. For an example of that level of talent see England (rank # 7).

England, as with all the top teams, fields a squad of professionals, some of them with million dollar contracts. The US on the other hand can boast only a handful of professionals with the majority of the squad filled out by weekend warriors with day jobs or college students. It was found out before the tournament that seven of the US players had to quit their jobs in order to play in the World Cup.

So it was easy to see why England viewed this match as a warm up before the actual tournament. By the end, though the score belied the emotional result, the US was seen as the winners of the game and the British press was reacting as if to Bunker Hill II.

So, soar, Eagles. You are on the right track. Congratulations and we’ll all be watching you against Tonga this week.

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Things With Wings

I used to not mind flying. In fact I clocked up many a mile, both on business and private travel. Of course that was in the good old days prior to excessive “security measures.” Even though I am all for security – well, who isn’t, we all want to arrive safely at our destination – some of the measures border on the ridiculous in my opinion. Hence, if possible, I avoid flying. Especially from and to major airports. I am not a glutton for cruel and unnecessary torture in the form of demeaning demands one has to oblige and an endless waste of time.

Which does not mean that I am no longer interested in aviation. In fact, Southern California and aviation go hand in hand. Aviation was one of the growth factors, an industry which drew people from all over the US to come here and find work. On average I would assume that those folks had more luck than those who came here to seek their luck in that other huge industry, the movie business. But that is another story altogether.

Anyway, aviation. Airports. Naw, not LAX. The only nice thing I have to say about that location is that one finds the Encounter-Restaurant there. I mean the very first airport with a paved runway west of the Rocky Mountains. That would be Grand Central Airport in Glendale. Although the runway existed since 1923, the actual terminal was not finished until 1928, when the airport was officially opened. It operated until 1959 and was then closed, as the runway was too short for jet planes. As a funny aside, the site, where LAX opened in 1946 for commercial air travel, was called Mines Field. And yes, I can just image what a smooth ride landing and taking off from a runway must have been with a name like that.

So Grand Central Airport closed down. The terminal is still standing, although it is crumbling a bit around the edges. The details of the tower are quite, quite beautiful.

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No, in comparison LAX does not quite cut it. No winged creatures to be found there, decorating the tower.

Tales Of The Island

One of the nearest getaways for Angelenos for a few days of peace and quiet is Catalina Island.

Surprisingly enough most Angelenos I know have never been there. They know about it, they always wanted to go there, but never got around to it. Might it be because Catalina is too easy to reach? After all, it takes only 45 minutes to drive to San Pedro (provided the hellhole on the 110, aka Downtown does not live up to its name) plus a bit more than one hour on a ferry or 15 minutes in a helicopter to get there. One can not milk that for stories of woe and strife getting to the desired destination. Unless the hellhole lives up to its name, which it does – occasionally – oh, the stories I could tell.

But I digress. Catalina Island is a small paradise some 20 miles off the coast, the largest of the Channel Islands. It is a rarity insofar as about 90 % of the island are a vast nature preserve, given over to flora and fauna. The Santa Catalina Island Conservancy does a good job here, a very, very good job. Thank you!

The best time to go and visit the island is outside of the main holiday season – until the beginning of May and after the end of September the crowds of visitors are comparatively small. During this off season even on a weekend one has the feeling to be far away from the pressures and demands of life on the mainland.

This is not a one-off moment:

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It is a normal evening scene in Avalon (not during peak season, I have to admit).

Makes bracing the hellhole worthwhile, doesn’t it?

The Good, The Bad And The Ridiculous

The Good: Nearly all of the states in the West of the US are Paradise when it comes to food. Whatever cuisine one has a yen for, whatever the time of the day one feels peckish, whatever ingredients one needs to cook up a storm to delight the palate (or shock same of some), one can find it without going on a lengthy excursion. From the 5-star-places (for eating out and shopping) to the delightful holes-in-the-wall (for eating out and shopping), eating out and shopping for food is fun.

The Bad: Even after all these years I have not grown used to the heaps and heaps of food one is served so often. Maybe it is just me, but heaps of food, no matter how tasty, do not appeal to me. I look at the plate and my stomach (S) and I (I) have a little conversation along the lines of:

S: You’re not going to make me tackle this, are you?

I: Gosh, no. Just a bit of it.

S: Why did you order this anyway? You know it’s too much for me.

I: Well, I thought it would be different this time, smaller portions, you know?

S: Geez, will you NEVER learn?

Actually, I did learn and pretty fast – the best friends of a person not used to eating until bursting are side dishes. So I learned to combine them to form a meal. Another lesson: the more upscale the restaurant, the smaller the portions. (We will leave all irony aside and accept that as a fact.) And there is always the trusty box for the leftovers – many a dinner has made a reappearance as breakfast the next day and oftentimes the leftovers of the leftovers even made for a nice nibble at lunchtime. In Entertainment Industry parlance that would be: Texan Barbecue, Texan Barbecue / The Sequel, Texan Barbecue / The Final Chapter.

The Ridiculous:

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The size of this… thing… was roughly 6″ x 6″ with a width of 3″ at the widest point (15 x 15 x 6 cm). And that was dessert. After a delicious meal in a top-notch restaurant where the rule “the higher the price the smaller the portion” just for once did not apply.

I assume it was delicious. I would not know, because my outlook has always been: “Cakes are cakes and carrots are carrots and never the twain should meet.” (But again, that is just me. And I don’t like sweet stuff anyway.) I know however that a slab of cake this size after a full meal is more than even the heartiest American can manage. I swear they can’t – I saw how defeat was declared. And I chuckled.

Yes, I know I. I shouldn’t have.