213 FB Hikers

Late last summer I saw that some of my friends were in a group called 213 FB Hikers. I read their page and asked to join. The page said they hiked every Tuesday night and Saturday mornings in Griffith Park. The first night I went happened to be a full moon. It was also my first time hiking in the north side of the park and at night. It was beautiful. The moon lit up everything. We were about 30 people ranging from late 20s to about early 40s in a single file line. We started up a small dirt path. About 200 yards from the parking lot where we had started, I looked to the side of the small dirt path we were on, and there standing in all its glory in the moonlight was 6 foot tall deer. I was hooked.

Since that first hike in late summer I have gone almost every Tuesday night. I went to one or two Saturday hikes, but I much prefer the night hikes. The first time I went it was a little tough. I had been going to the gym, but hiking works out other muscles, your balance and brain (especially at night) in ways you can't get at the gym. I didn't know how to breathe and my calves were burning from scaling a hillside. With people in front of me, that I didn't want to let get too far ahead of me, and people behind me that I didn't want to slow down, I had to keep up with the pace, so it was tough.

The leaders of the group encourage everyone to push themselves to their limit, to work it! They encourage us to try to move up in the group: if you are in the back, get to the middle; if you are in the middle get to the front, and most importantly, "we leave no one behind." The encouragement, kindness and patience given by the leaders of this group to people that are really having a hard time is another huge plus of this group. They keep a good steady pace, but if someone falls behind, because they are having a hard time, there is always someone in the very back with a walkie talkie communicating with the front lead to slow down or to wait up. I've seen a couple of people get picked up by their elbows and helped up some exceptionally hard parts for them. Thankfully I was not in that bad shape when I began. By the fourth week I was up in the front and loving it.

Every week it gets a little easier and you get to take in more of the beauty of the park at night. The creatures all make appearances or sounds like the hoots of the owls, the coyote debates, the bats sonic beeps, the misunderstood potato bugs, the super cool rabbits and I heard about, but haven't seen any hairy, tarantulas. They should be out by the summer. I'm looking forward to catching the city lights come on around dusk.

I have found a peace in these hikes and from the benefits of knowing the trails and gaining the ability to go through them with relative ease. The physical ease allows my mind to function on other levels. The Tuesday before my father passed I had to hike. I missed the week before because I was at the hospital with him. All week I had been there and that day was the last day he was most conscience. My body was racked with stress, my mind filled to its brim, my heart in pain, I needed to work my body. Pump my blood by breathing, pushing and pulling my self up those darkened paths.

I was quiet. At this point no one knew my dad was in the hospital except for very close family. I flew up the paths like they were nothing. My body loved the challenge, and I stepped up to it. I pictured in my mind the 'strands of light' that Casteneda wrote about, pulling me up. My eyes in harmony with my legs, helped my feet land on the perfect spot(s) to launch from. At some points it felt like I was gliding up by pure will and thought.

When I made it to the top, I knew my dad was with me. He had brought me up there as kid by scaling the south side of that same hill. The same hill I would climb up after Philosophy class at LACC to read my books and watch the largess of my city. Standing there that Tuesday night, I knew I would be ok. I knew my dad was going to be ok. All is as it should be. All is as it could be. All is as it will be.





213 FB Hikers rock! I've met some very nice people and each week new hikers join. Some return and some don't, but they all learn where they are hiking wise and usually it encourages them to get into better shape so that their next hike won't be so hard. Others get hooked and join other hiking groups. Those folks say 213 are the funnest and most challenging compared to other groups. For now I'm happy with the Tuesday night hikes.


(most photos courtesy and copyright David Negrete, all rights reserved)

munchies: T.V. Cafe

The T.V. Cafe, open 24 hours, on the corner of Olympic Blvd. and Alameda has been a truck stop diner for many, many years. When I was a kid it was one of the last "Sambo's" restaurants before they went bankrupt. For the last twenty years as T.V. Cafe it has served all types of Pachucoville residents, but the majority is mostly working class Raza who during the day have lunch, or at night are stopping in on the way home from a club.

Growing up in So. Central, I would pass that corner on my way to my aunt's in Boyle Heights or my uncle's in El Sereno. I remember when I was like 6 or 7 seven years old asking my mom about it when I saw the little kid as the logo when it was part of the "Sambo's Restaurant" chain. She told me that people were mad because it made fun of black people by calling them "Sambo" and showing a little kid with pancakes and syrup, and something about Aunt Jemima. At that age I didn't get it completely, but I knew peeps could get upset about stuff that others thought was ok to make fun of. We never stopped to eat there, even when it briefly turned into a Denny's.

In my late teens my friend Manglor, a photographer, moved into some lofts on Molino off of 4th street. This was during the Al's Bar era of the area. After one night of partying at Manglor's he suggested we go try the best vegetarian burrito in the world. So we piled in to the Fox and rolled up on T.V. Cafe. I have not stopped going there for the #31 veggie burrito since then.

Manglor was also a fan of the "Works Burger." Over the years friends of mine like Johnny Blaze, love the breakfast that is served most of time at anytime. I have also tried their cocido and it's pretty damn good. What seals the deal with T.V Cafe is their hot sauce. It is hot and tasty. Not for the weak.

As the gentrification of downtown continues to ooze east, we'll see how T.V. Cafe handles the changes. During the day the corner is bustling with semi trucks and all sorts of commercial traffic. The Los Angeles Produce and Flower Marts are just two of the large industries orbiting Olympic and Alameda. There is also large swap meet/insta food court growing up down Olympic. In the last ten years, American Apparel opened their main factory and Farmer Boy's opened up down Alameda, and also open 24 hours, has given T.V. Cafe a higher profile.

I go there to get away from B.H. There is always a family there eating when I get there. I sit alone and watch TV or listen in on conversations. I was once there for a small earthquake that made the lights sway above our heads. We all looked around and after a few Chingaos! Agus! and an Aye Carey! we all went back to our food.

November pics n tales

After the DoD festivities and winding down a lil bit there was work and play to be had.

One last DoD event was the Tropico de Nopal annual fashion show. These two were my favorite not just because I know them but both had subtle political and personal statements within the intricacy of the fashion.







































The following week was the monthly LA Art Walk. These were found at Crewest.



























































The opening of the Eastside Gold Line extension was reason for a good block party around Mariachi Plaza.









































































This past weekend I hit San Francisco with a fun crew of peeps. We got to Chinatown, Plump DJs @ Mighty, Ferry Building, Blue Bottle Coffee, Saulsalito, Jeno @ Mars Bar, The End Up, Lime, Lembic (sp?) in Haight, and back on planes, trains, and automobiles.








































































On Monday I went in to get my last wisdom teeth pulled. It was nasty. Dr. had to break one of them because it was weird.

Happy Halloween

Growing up my family used to decorate our old Victorian with cob webs, fake spiders, rats, ghosts, and make of dummies with old clothes stuffed with older clothes. Everyone would get into it. Dad would be at the door which led to the walkway to our house. He would let only small groups of kids in at a time. Some kids would be too scared to come in. I would be on the roof with a speaker next to me blasting screams and moans from a special effects record and dropping a basketball wrapped in a sheet on top of people who came to the porch where the candy was. My mom and cousin would be there dressed up giving out candy to the brave one who made it. Sometimes one of them would pretend to be one of the mannequins and lay still until a group of kids would get close then just move an arm or make a noise. Grandma would be on the sides in a white dress waving her arms 'ghost' like.
We made a kid pee in his pants once!
When the numbers would die down I would get to play my music loud from the roof top and do a little dance in south central.

Summer pics in between the rest

Cal Tech Turtles
















EOP picture day











Q bday









Art Walk LA












































good party





















Good people



Tech-ila

Passing

She will be passing any day now.
Since April she has refused anymore treatments.
Signed off on not resuscitating.
This is the fourth day she has not eaten any food.
She says she doesn't feel like eating.
Her stomach doesn't want food.
She is skin and bones and big bloated stomach.
On the plus side she is not in any pain or discomfort, just weak.

It started last November, she was having trouble breathing.
She had fluid in one lung.
A form of breast cancer.
They would stick a long needle in to drain out fluid.
Eventually fluid would accumulate also in her stomach.
This was repeated.
Pulling several liters each time.

Chemo A, failed
Chemo B, failed
Back in hospital in March because she would throw everything up
Now was too weak to drain fluid.
No food for a week and she bounced back.
Fluid left and was able to eat.
Then they offered another chemo and she said "No more."
It would now be a countdown.



She is the strongest woman I know.
Her mom, my grandma, lived to 98.
I remember seeing my grandma pick up one of those old bathtubs alone.
My mom has that strength too.
When I see her I try to maintain my composure. When I think I'm going to break
I get near her and its not so bad. Like her strength carries me.
She shouts orders to my dad all day.
My poor dad has really stepped up and serves her every wish,
following her overly detailed requests.
If she hadn't moved the bed into the living room, and laid around all day,
you wouldn't know she was dieing.
Even today her voice is still strong.
She told me that some people would always think she was mad because of her strong tone.

Most of my days I am sad and in tears.
I have seen this coming.
Have made peace with it, to some degree.
She didn't want my alternative medicines, ever.
I know I need to respect her wishes.
But its still hard.
If I get out at night, I can be normal.
Its like a routine among my peeps and beats.
When I go to work, I should get an Academy Award for the acting I do in there.
The mornings are the hardest.
I don't know if my father is going to call me and tell me...
I don't know if I'm going to call and hear...
So driving to work is rough til I make that call and even then its hard to hear, its another day of waiting.
I don't know if I will get that call during class and wonder if I will just walk out.
What would I say? Who would I tell?
I've been driving up instead of taking the train because if I need to leave I don't want ask anyone for a ride.



Today she asked me to call the priests for her last rites.
They came within the hour. Nice guys.
She cracked a little bit and we both shared a moment.
I asked if she wants to see her brothers and sister and she said NO.
According to her they are in almost as bad shape as she is.
One is fighting a losing battle sliding into Alzheimer's. Another can't stand for too long because his legs and shoulders hurt from carrying his now deceased wife up and down several flights of stairs of their hillside El Sereno home. She died of a bad case of diabetes. Her other brother is just tired, he lost his wife 4 months ago.
She doesn't want anything.
She wants to be cremated and that is all.
No memorial, nada.
I don't think it's fair, but I need to grant her final wishes, even after her passing.
I will most likely take her ashes to where she was most happy, her childhood home in Chavez Ravine. Well the home is not there anymore, but the hills are still there.


I want to thank my friends who have knowingly or not been good distractions for me.
My students who keep my mind flying to places to take them and show them how many paths this life can offer. My co-workers who are understanding about my mood swings, care for me, entertain me, feed me and are just great people. My inipe brothers and sisters, Wolf and Lisa thank you for praying with me and having that space for all our relations.

This is all passing.
We are all just passing.
See you on the other side, someday.
I love you mommy.

(love and blessings to the Rodriguez family who is also saying bye to their Papachus, lo siento mucho)

Summer 2009

Summer is always a lot of stuff to do. Here are some pics I took with my phone of what I have been doing.



I kicked it off riding the Marathon route with Random & Softwind.

















I bought tortillas at Cinco Puntos where they hand make 'em








I made this at a blogger b que. It's a chile relleno, with guacamole, hot salsa, salvadorian chorizo, topped with pico de gallo.













I rode off freaky food like that with these good people, the Eastside Bike Club.







I went to the DREAM Graduation at City Hall. That's Wendy Carrillo giving one kick ass speech in a day filled with kick ass speeches on why we need the DREAM ACT NOW.
(check out her keynote grad speech)












This bad boy belongs to Doc Martin













LA's very own.












Then I would make fun food.













Ride some more...




















Go to my drumming circle and this time we had hula hoopers!!!











Swedish Egil at The Standard Hotel dwntwn










Good times : )

I want my latte in East LA

Recently I popped into a conversation that basically pointed out how we only have Mexican food, some Asian, and corporate chains like McCaca in the areas surrounding East LA. They wanted good French Toast and coffee.

I felt their need.

I ran through my head and checked my "Around Me" app. and yes we don't have any bar b que joints, a soul food spot, a Peruvian restaurant, French (nouveau or otherwise), or good old American food (biscuits n gravy? eggs benedict?) in the barrio within walking distance.

At the same time walking distance for who?

I could walk to Chinatown, which I have done several times, but can and will my friends further from the river be down to hike it?

I remember hearing years ago that Starbucks didn't think they would do well in East LA or heavily populated Latino areas. Well the one in Monterey Park is usually packed, the one on 3 rd isn't hurting and the one in South Gate has a line in its drive thru all the time. I know the IHOPs near the barrio are always packed with families. So it would seem fair to believe that a non Mexican restaurant would do very well in the barrio, but who will take that chance?

My friends in that conversation and I obviously don't want more corporate fare but a good cafe like Antigua was (they could have used a bigger menu) awesome and desired on those Sunday mornings when good coffee and some pancakes would hit the spot. Of course I would want some cafe de olla and pan dulce on the menu as well.

Punk Rock G

Being a child in the 80's allowed me to experience some of the craziest music. Synthesizers and punk rock changed the sonic landscape pissing off the old guard and cutting a new sonic trail.

Yes I started with the pop Flock of Seagulls, Devo, Blondie, but eventually got into GBH, FEAR, Sin 34, and other punk groups of the era and area.

I would often go to the shows at the Olympic auditorium where you heard line ups like: The Exploited, Dead Kennedy's, The Addicts, X, Red Hot Chili Peppers and more.

I would roll with my cousin Steven and our friend David. We would sometimes put egg whites in our hair to make it stand up. I wore a dog chain around my neck. Trench coats if the weather wasn't too hot.

My dad was cool and would drop us off and pick us up. Sometimes he would go before the show ended and would sneak in. We would be waiting by the car and wondering where he was. He would come back and laugh at us saying we sure knew how to have a good time.

Many girls would often go in fishnet or topless and wear black electrical tape to cover nipples. They would ride on top of boyfriend's shoulders and scream and spit on people who stared too long. There were often at least three slam pits. The major one in the center where it was really crazy and people doing stage dives would often land on you. And one on each side of the stage where the younger kids like me could practice and not get too hurt and bruised. Punks cared, somewhat. I remember falling down and getting picked up by big dudes, who would ask if I was good, then throw me back in it. I only felt scared once when at a GBH and FEAR concert the lights went completly out during FEAR's opening number and they kept playing even louder. Lee Ving screaming "FUCK YOUUUUUU" for three minutes. You could just feel the fear and engery shoot through the place, and the pits got crazier. I jumped into the seats and tried to keep an eye on anyone coming at me.

The rockeros weren't welcome. Any long hair was not welcome. They would come three or four in a group. They would get beat in the pit. Usually they ended up watching the show from the seats where they were relatively safe. That was punk rock in LA.

To be honest I never made it to the Vex. Steven and David went and said it was very controlled and artsy. We liked it wild and a little dangerous. We loved it if our clothes got torn. Not if people liked what we were wearing. We liked the places that let you wear you spikes, but that eventually got banned from all places, too much blood.

I got my pants, belt, straps and t-shirt in the pic above at a place called Poseur on Melrose. We would ditch and make our way over their on the #10. Eventually we would end up at the Beverly Center and get free food and movies because David's sister worked on the top floor food court. She was fine so she got whatever she wanted, even if it was for her brother and his punk friend.

Good times.

Tierra de la Culebra

Over ten years ago I was at the right place at the right time to help set up the Tierra de la Culebra. We would go move out rocks, pull weeds and practice danza Azteca there. One day when it really wasn't that cloudy, the danza leader said we were going to dance until it rained. It rained within 5 minutes of us dancing hard. I will never forget that day and the magical place it happened. The other day I re-visited and these are some pics I took.

Elyisian Park

I grew up in Elysian Park. My mom's family had a home there and were forced out for development that never happened.

Then Dodger stadium came and took out others from the hills surrounding the park. I would be told stories of living there, the ghosts, the fun, the freedom, the people and animals.

I rode my bike as a kid all over that park. Hiked all its trails. Would have beers at the top above the reservoir or on the bridge high over the 110. It's a refuge full of memories, an escape where I can let my mind wander, and empty out what I don't need, sharpen what I'm looking for clarity on, and a good work out area when I need to get my heart and lungs pumping.

I have shared many great times alone, with friends and family there. These are pics from one path I recently walked. To all the people who've shared time with me there and others who know what I'm talking about, these little sights are for you. The park never lets me down.


The start or bottom of this path.














You can see a snow capped mountain, past the grass and trees

















Wide trails and thin ones


















The top and the flowers