Saturday w/ Q

I was up puttering around the house, heating canela tea, wondering what to make for breakfast. My Q was still asleep when her greatgrandma called to invite us over for hashbrowns, eggs and bacon.

After a great meal, showers and a few rounds on the PS2 we headed out with no particular destination.

Filled up the tank and thought for moment that we should be taking public transit, but we did have to end up in Burbank to drop of PT sometime.

Heading west on Sunset, south on Glendale, west again on Beverly, I was thinking the Beverly Center for some people watching. Q was telling me about her Spring Break camping trip with grandparents and cousins. I told her about the latest break up. She mentioned that she was getting hungry, she barely touched her hashbrowns, so when we hit Fairfax it was over to Damianos for a slice of peperoni pizza.

Across the street I saw an old face of an all too brief minor celeb in the house music scene. He was now panhandling out front of Canter's. He was homeless back when he recorded his seminal track. The track got him into all the clubs and made him friends with all the DJs and promoters who were in the know. He seemed happy to be always happy in those days. He would always tell me about the DJs we had on PT and how he liked the deep stuff over the trance. Sightings of him in the clubs diminished, but his visits to record stores to talk to peeps, who talked to me let me know he was still out and about looking for another producer to capture his voice. He is a very nice guy. We went over to talk to him and see how he was doing. He was glad that later that night we would have some deep house on the show for him to groove to. We gave him some money to eat with and continued our journey.

Over at the Beverly Center it seemed like Christmas time with all the traffic and chaos. Seems NOBODY walks into the Beverly Center. My Q mentioned how weird the architecture of the BC is. 'It goes all over the place, and no place at all. Parking this way and that, but boring at the same time." Getting on the elevator was an exercise in squeezing in, but once inside the place was fine. "Where did everybody go?" We went to the new HnM and thought that the clothes looked nice, but cheaply made. I'll take my chances at Marshalls. Walked in to Godvia to get my Q her Easter chocolate, since I didn't see her the week before. I get her one great chocolate versus a ton of cheap chocolate. She wanted a chocolate covered strawberry, fine. The associate on duty offered us a Godiva scratcher to see if we would win anything. We did! 'A free chocolate.' She looked a little dissapointed, but then got nice with us, after I said "You didn't think we would win." She then gave us another one. 'Buy one get one free.'

We sat in the ultra modern seats and couches they have throughout the mall and ate our goodies: one chocolate covered strawberry for Q and one dark chocolate bar with dark ganache inside for me. The people walking around the BC were so United Nations. Africans from Ethipoia and Senegal, whose accents I learned so well back at LACC. Asians, Europeans, and Latinos, from every country, and of course a smidgen of tourists all getting along in the sacred confines of the Church of American capitalism: the mall. Passing the Ferrari store Q asked "Why would they have a Ferrari store where they don't even sell Ferraris?" I said some people need just a label to feel better about themselves. We then decided to leave.

Getting out of the BC was worse than getting in. I'm sure this was by design. We stood and watched as three elevators filled with people opend their doors and forbade anyone getting in, even the super fine 6ft tall model with legs for miles. I decided we need to go up to get down. We hopped on the next one going up, then rode back down. When the doors opened on our starting floor, I looked out to see the super model girl laughing at her predicament. She had been waiting there before we got there. She saw me laughing at her, and then she ran off looking embarassed and upset at the same time. Sometimes you gotta go up to get down.

North on La Cienega to Santa Monica I pointed out Norms, Barney's Beanery and then Gardens of Taxco, all places I've taken Q but she might not remember. North on Crescent Hts. to Sunset, La Brea to Hollywood, to Highland, the energy level was on high in this heart of LA as street performers, tourists, bachelorette parties crawling out of oversized Hummer limos, mixed with Latino workers, cops, kids in pocket rockets, and residents, like us, who drove/strolled through and soaked it up.

Through the Cahuenga pass we made plans for the Hollywood Bowl and John Anson Ford. Hitting Barham we enter another region of LA, where the traffic thinned out, the people thicken slighty (compared to the BC), and things slow down: Burbank.

Back home to Boyle Hts. for homemade burritos and watching George Lopez and LOST on tape from the last two weeks, we settled in for the night.

Sometimes we stay in all day in our pajamas. Other days we go to events where history, art and culture collide. A museum here, an aquarium there, a movie, a hike, trip to the mall. All of them are a little sweeter with my Q.