Zig Zag

I've shown you these vehicles before--well, Boz showed them to you. They're a popular mode of transportation on our block, though some little legs will soon grow too long to push them.

I'm thinking of safety today, and the people who protect us, and the odd, awful story of a man who lost his hold on himself, hell only knows why. What unbearable heartbreak, that police officers die for us. How I dislike being glad that the perpetrator is dead.

I don't care what anyone says. Hand guns and automatic weapons are for murdering people. If we don't outlaw these guns, we need to change our laws about murder.

For instance: If you pass the background check, you are obviously allowed to commit murder, but who are your victims, legally speaking? Should there be priorities? Like, for example, schoolchildren are #1, law enforcement officers #2, families of the above #3, etc? Or maybe your own family gets first priority, your spouse's family second, and so on.

It's going to take Congress a long time to iron all this out.

Gratitude can't begin to describe what I feel to the officers who died, and to those who live on. That's much too simple. I am also grieving, and angry, and glad this one's over. There will be a next one, and a next one, and a next one, before we get this thing solved.

Stress

The Station Fire has seriously stressed me out. The smoky air, the online discussions about bad (or nonexistent) news coverage, the talk of costs in money, not to mention lives. And now that we know it was arson my mind is completely blown.

It's all relative. I live in Pasadena. My home has not, at any point, been threatened by the fire. Yet I'm stressed to the point of near-illness because of the effects this thing has on my community. My stress is nothing compared to that of the people who live up the hill in Altadena, or over the hill in Acton, or across the valley in Sierra Madre and Monrovia--the people whose bags are still packed in case they have to evacuate.

And the animals. It's too horrible to contemplate.

Then I think of the people who did have to evacuate. That's stress. But those who lost their homes are going through worse. Real people. I don't know them but I can put myself in their place, or lack of a place. It's devastating.

Real lives have been lost, too. Two lives, two firefighters. My heart goes out to their families. I'm so glad I married a guy who works at his computer. Having him here, now, is a great stress-reducer.

We talked about the firefighters last night. I imagine you have to love fire to be a firefighter. You have to love the challenge, the teamwork, the danger, the heat. The kudos, too, when you get them. You have to be able to deal with some major stress on that job, I would think. Maybe you even have to relish that stress.

We can never give them kudos enough, but we can try.

Nothin' But Blue Skies

Yesterday was particularly clear in the Los Angeles basin. The views were endless. You could see for miles. It was nice while it lasted.

In the afternoon there was a brush fire in the hills just above the intersection of the 134 and the 2 freeways. It looked pretty bad on TV: bright red flames, close to homes. Smoke.

Climate change and three years of drought are a great combination if you're a fire. They say we could have a pretty bad fire season this year. Not that fire season any year is what you'd call good.

I was in Hollywood when I heard about the Glendale fire. My usual route home is via surface streets through Silverlake, then up the 2 freeway and east along the 134 through Eagle Rock and on into Pasadena. I checked my online source then headed home, listening to the KNX traffic reports.

In Silverlake, I saw two water-dropping helicopters lift off from the reservoir. Didn't have my camera ready but it was exciting to see! And lucky for me, the worst of the traffic was on the westbound 134. The 2 was fine, as was the eastbound 134.

I pulled off the freeway in Pasadena and took this shot, facing west on Mountain near Lincoln. A lot of smoke had come our way. Lucky for us, the threatened homes weren't Pasadena homes. Not this time. The sky will be clear again soon.

What Now?

We had some excitement in the neighborhood yesterday. Lots of police cars, helicopters, noise. It went on for hours.

The action was on the next block. On my street we hung out with our neighbors in the front yards and wondered what it was all about. When John and I finally wandered over to ask what was going on it was all over, and I took this photo.

The wide shot gives you the neighborhood, the day. The street had been evacuated and the subjects were alone.

A closer look:
The uniformed officer on the left folds his hands in front of him. He seems almost deferential. The detective on the right leans on the cruiser, hand in his pocket, focused on the young man at the center of it all.

This young man, shirtless (easier to search), head hanging--what now?

I can't learn anything from the picture.

Celebration Day

Forgive me for indulging in a photo that could have been taken in any city, if it weren't for the fact that few people besides my husband are likely to have a "Local 3 Gore for President" 2004 campaign button. I think we got that while passing through Eureka, California (a great town). During the 2000 and 2004 elections we happened to be on the road. This time, we made it a point to be here in Pasadena. Not that we believe in jinxes or anything.

We're having a few neighbors over for brunch this morning to watch the ceremony on TV and toast our new president. In preparation I went back over to Wayne Nelson's store on North Lincoln Avenue to buy t-shirts so John and I could dress appropriately. Guess what? Wayne's in Washington for the inauguration. Another person I featured on the blog, Alice Gandy, wrote to let me know she was going. TWO Pasadena Daily Photo stars are at the inauguration today. I'm bursting with - not pride, but joy. What a thrill for Alice and Wayne. I can't wait to hear their stories.

I'm a little concerned, though. My friend Lisa gave me the Bush's Last Day key chain in the center of the photo. It was supposed to count down to today and for a while it worked fine. But about two weeks ago it went haywire. I don't know what happened. Maybe I walked by a magnet or Mercury is retrograde or...I don't want to think about it. Not that I believe in jinxes or anything.

A Day Without a Bag

You know those web searches you start, thinking you're going to find one thing and you find another? I was searching recycled gifts. (Go! Look! I found some great stuff.) I also found out that today's a holiday! Whoopee! December doesn't have nearly enough holidays in it.

Today's A Day Without A (Disposable) Bag, "Our Holiday Gift to the Environment." Heal The Bay sponsors this second annual "Day" in an effort to address a huge problem. For folks who haven't tried it, now's your opportunity to see how it feels to BYOBag when you shop. Kinda like the Great American Smoke-out. No commitment, just a toe in the water.

Here's a quote from the website: "More than 6 billion plastic bags are used in L.A. County each year. Disposable bags cost our fiscally strained cities up to 17 cents per bag for disposal (this does not even include the environmental costs). Plastic bags are made from fossil fuels. Americans use over 380 billion bags every year, throwing away this precious, non-renewable resource."

I took this photo in the hills above Santa Paula. It's beautiful, empty country. In the middle of nowhere we stopped so John could take a picture with his cell phone. I turned and there was this...bag.

I don't think the problem's insurmountable. I'm seeing more and more reusable totes at the farmer's market, the grocery store and other retail shops. People make fashion statements with them in all kinds of styles. So while you're calling me Pollyanna (or some other moniker of your choosing), do the world a favor and pick up a reusable tote bag for your shopping today. Then use it again tomorrow. And the next day, too. And so on. You get my drift.

Drama

I don't know about you, but I've had a week of ups and downs. Kind of like the financial markets--wait, that was mostly downs, wasn't it? I've had ups, but you get my meaning: drama. Sometimes it makes life interesting. Those ups are lovely, aren't they? But sometimes I'd prefer boredom.

While we catch a break this weekend I wish you serenity, time to relax and a chance to collect yourself from all those corners you've spread into. By the time Monday rolls around I expect you to be whole again and ready to celebrate Zen Monday here on the blog.

I know. I know. I'm expecting a lot. But I wouldn't ask it of you if I didn't ask it of myself.

I'm going to spend my weekend catching up on little things. Email. Errands. Housework. Lists. Maybe wrap a present or two. Stuff. If I plan it right, it will be quite, quite dull.

Weston DeWalt

When I met Weston DeWalt, he said "Nice to meet you, Petrea Celeste."

Celeste is my middle name. I don't use it much, and it's not exactly all over the web. I said so.

"I'm a researcher," he said. No kidding.

Gary Weston DeWalt is a Pasadena author who came to worldwide notice in one of the most compelling stories to hit recent Los Angeles headlines. It began when his imagination was sparked by a single sentence he'd read about a boy who went missing near JPL in 1957 (on my 2nd birthday). Tommy Bowman was never found. DeWalt's idea was to write about how that loss affected Tommy's family over the years. But his research led him deep into a complicated tale involving bulldozers, bad men and even, peripherally, Charles Manson.

Mostly, though, DeWalt came across more and more unsolved cases of missing children, and all those children pointed their fingers at one man: Mack Ray Edwards.

The Pasadena author with a penchant for research helped solved a case that had gone cold more than 50 years ago. And along with LAPD Detective Vivian Flores, DeWalt may have unearthed even more crimes and at least one more criminal. The full story hasn't been told. Yet. DeWalt and Flores are writing the book.

Weston is no stranger to headlines. In 1997 he co-authored The Climb with Anatoli Boukreev, partly in answer to charges made against Boukreev in Jon Krakauer's bestseller, Into Thin Air about the 1996 Everest Disaster. The Climb sparked controversy which DeWalt had to answer because Boukreev died tragically soon after publication.*

It's a delight to converse with Weston DeWalt. He's smart, engaging, well-read and full of stories, some about his research. And after an hour or so it becomes clear that though crime and controversy may intrigue him, it's the people who hold his deepest interest. He cares about Anatoli Boukreev, who saved lives on Mt. Everest then didn't live to fully answer charges against his character. He cares about Eldon Bowman, who after fifty years has experienced little closure regarding the loss of his son. He cares about Detective Flores, who worked so hard on the case of the missing children. It has affected her career, DeWalt says. "It's affected her whole life."

There's more to know about Weston DeWalt, but this post is getting long. I know how Weston feels when a subject just grabs you.

*(I recommend Wikipedia as a beginning, not an end, to research.)

Chicken Rights

I took at least a hundred photos at the anti-Proposition 8 rally on the steps of City Hall yesterday. It was a peaceful part of a nationwide protest. The sign in the photo above refers to Proposition 2, which passed.

I think I'll let the signs do the talking.
In Pasadena, 57% voted no on Proposition 8. I love this town.

Barack and Wayne and You and Me

I thought about simply encouraging you all to get out and vote today. I thought about not mentioning my choice in a candidate, although anyone who reads this blog knows I'm voting for Barack Obama. Then I thought, if I can inspire one person to go vote, I've got to do it. And if I can't inspire you, maybe Wayne Nelson can.

Several months ago Mr. Nelson hired artist Harmon Mandigo to paint this mural on his Altadena clothing store, Wayne's Fashion. The Pasadena Star-News did a story about the mural and quoted Nelson as saying, "I figured I'd do whatever I can to help..." (I'd like to read the rest of the article but the charge for reading archived articles on the PSN website is unbelievable, outrageous, even despicable. But I digress...)

Timothy Rutt of Altadenablog was the first to post about Wayne Nelson's mural. I found it while tooling around Angela Odom's State & Lake. (I particularly like her photo.) I hurried on over to be third in line.

Nelson's small shop at 2808 N. Lincoln Avenue in Altadena is a busy place. The shelves are piled high with all things Obama. When I arrived the store was packed with customers buying Obama t-shirts, hats and buttons. People want to represent. But Nelson was able to take a minute to pose with his prized mural. He even took a picture of me with it.
We are excited, Wayne and I. We are two seemingly different people brought together by our hopes for America. We like Obama's message of hope and tolerance. We like his world view. We like the way he's taken the high road during his campaign, unlike the other candidate who degraded his own once-decent reputation by stooping to lies, insults and racial slurs.

We believe a President Obama can return America to decency in the eyes of the world and in our own, and lead America down the high road as a great nation once more.

A Family Proposition

When I saw little Hannah Hernandez carrying her Vote No on Prop 8 sign at the Farmers' Market yesterday I trotted after her family to ask if I could take their photo. They were happy to pose, just as I'm happy to say I oppose Proposition 8.

Proposition 8 would amend the California state constitution, eliminating the right of same-sex couples to marry. Californians will be voting for or against Prop 8 Tuesday in the general election. If you're not from California you may think we're all fine with the idea of gays and lesbians marrying, but the issue has been hotly contested.

The Hernandez family of Altadena reminds me of another Altadena family I know, where both parents of beautiful children happen to be women. I don't see why those parents and children shouldn't have the same rights as others. Or what about the gay couple who lives down the street from us? They've been a couple longer than John and I have, they keep their place as nice as we do. Well. Nicer. America is where discrimination is supposed to be illegal, not legitimized. I think San Diego's Mayor Jerry Sanders said it best: "No matter how people feel about marriage, using our state constitution to discriminate is wrong..."

I thank the Hernandez family for standing up for their beliefs. Plus I really like Hannah's boots.

Fire in the Sky

With three wildfires burning in the vicinity, our air has had an odd feel to it lately. On the worst days we could smell it. Mostly though, the air just feels close and hot. Not as close and hot as it feels to the firefighters. By the way, they have all the local fires contained now, and the cause found for at least one.

We can't complain here in Pasadena - I mean, the fire's not burning here. We've been warned, though. Fire season has only begun, so people are clearing dry brush and being careful. It's when the Santa Ana winds kick up that folks have to be the most vigilant.

In my part of town we have plenty of asphalt, and I tend to think that's a decent firebreak. But we should probably clean our gutters just in case.

In San Marino the other night, particles in the sky produced a stunning sunset.

In the Shadows of the Rose Bowl

Today is Blog Action Day 2008. This year's theme is poverty.

In a speech he made in July of 2000, Pasadena Mayor Bill Bogaard said, "the vast majority of Pasadena residents cannot afford the median priced home that exists in our community today." And that was before the housing price boom.

Things have certainly changed since then. The most recent statistics I found were cited in an article by Peter Dreier in Pasadena Weekly from September, 2007. At first the numbers make it look like poverty levels are decreasing in Pasadena. But at closer examination, Dreier discovers that there are fewer poor people in Pasadena because they're leaving. They can't afford to live here. Yep, Pasadena is a prosperous community.

I wonder how things will change in the days to come. I wonder, as the world's financial crisis plays out, if we'll need to do more than just write checks to charity to keep our communities afloat. Maybe the crisis will be a crisis by definition: short-lived. Maybe we'll all be fine. Or maybe poverty will hit home. What will we do? Serve food? Build homes? Get our hands dirty? Will someone do that for us if we're in need?

I've heard pundits call it "the American financial crisis." What they fail to understand is that we're part of the world. Our economy is global. Our society is global, too. If society is global, then poverty has already hit home.

What will we do? What will you do? What will I do?

Zen Monday: #20

On Zen Monday you experience the photo and tell me what it's about, rather than me telling you what to experience from viewing it.
There's no right or wrong answer. The only rule is the truth. If the photo evokes something in you, then that's the answer.



(note to speed hump kings: tomorrow.)

Simple Things

Lately in America we've been fretting about our economy. It's scary when you're constantly looking at the big picture and that picture is blurry.

Sometimes I have to look at the smaller picture in order to focus. And in the smaller picture my friends and I can get still together on a warm, southern California afternoon and enjoy each others' company. A glass of bubbly, fancy cheese and fruit from local farms is all within reach.

I enjoyed the company of friends in this beautiful Altadena garden the other day. Our hostess provided the treats because she wanted to do so. But crackers and water would have been enough, and we were all keenly aware of that.

In frightening times its comforting to look around and see how much I have: my home, family, friends, enough to eat and a country where I can voice my opinions and vote. I remind myself that even now, even when things are frightening and it feels like we teeter on the brink of a terrifying abyss, that's only the hype of the hysterical who want us to buy or follow or fear. What's really true is that even when we live within our means we live like kings.

My Vote

Apparently not too many people knew about it, but there was a primary in California yesterday. Not as exciting as the presidential primary, but there was balloting for statewide offices, local judges, and a couple of measures about eminent domain that were hotly contested (at least on the radio).

I like to vote and I had time in my schedule, so I was one of the 16.48% who turned out in Los Angeles County. It was a low-stress kind of voting situation, and I got to vote for my favorite congressman and have my say about the issues. I hope the rest of you agree with what we decided for you yesterday, because you're going to have to live with it.

I'm Not a Budget Cut

Friday I arrived at Longfellow School too late to see the full demonstration against Governor Schwarzenegger's proposed school budget cuts. Citizens, parents, teachers and children had been outside all day in the hot sun, waving signs and chanting. I'm told the protesters filled the lawn from one end to the other, while motorists passing on Washington Blvd. honked their agreement: "Don't Cut Our Kids Short."

Already, the kids in my neighborhood sell candy and magazines door-to-door just to go on a field trip. When I was a kid I was a student, not a salesman. How can we give them so much less than what we had?

The smiling man in the middle of the photo is our new Pasadena School Board President, Tom Selinske. He's only just been elected, and he's jumping in feet first. Which is good, because his hands are going to be full. The Governator's got his hands full, too. A budget's a complicated thing and California's in deep financial trouble.

Some might say what happens in Pasadena's schools doesn't affect me because I don't have kids. But good schools in my town raise my property value, and in the bigger picture they enhance my quality of life. When I become a demanding and feisty old lady, I don't want a bunch of drop-outs hanging around, looking for feisty old ladies to pester. I want educated people policing my streets, governing my city and especially managing my health care.

I sound selfish, don't I?

I can help by voting to allocate money to schools, when given the opportunity on a ballot. What else can one person do? Your thoughts?

Theme Day: Numbers

The City Daily Photo blog family has a theme day the first of each month. May's theme is numbers.

The man in the background of this photo stands at the top of the freeway offramp at Lake Avenue. He's holding a handmade sign that says "Homeless Vet. Hungry. Please help." If I had a sign it might say, "Our dependency on fossil fuels is choking our economy." But that's not very original. I stole it from this article.

Click here to view thumbnails for all 181 blogs participating in this month's theme day. Go on, click on one you've never visited before! Have an adventure! I'm going to click on a bunch of them, and after that I'm going to go buy a bike.

Page 94 Girl

This man is reading a magazine. Pasadena Magazine, to be specific.

A magazine is like a blog, except it's not backlit. That's why this man is sitting in the sun. (Actually, it's more like a whole website, except you can read it in a coffee shop even if you don't have a laptop and they don't have wifi.)

What is he reading about? Why, Pasadena Daily Photo, of course. He's riveted on Page 94 where there's a teeny weeny blurb about this here blog that even includes one of my photos.

Oh no, I'm not bursting with pride or anything.

The May issue of Pasadena Magazine is on the stands. It's absolutely gorgeous. I left a few copies out there for you, but you'd better hurry up because I'll be out today buying more. (Tip: the newsstand price is steep but the subscription price is very reasonable, so since every single issue is fabulous, go ahead and subscribe!)

First Amendment Rites

Yesterday, twice as many people as expected showed up at the corner of Orange Grove and Hill to protest five years of war in Iraq.

Grandparents came with adult children and grandchildren. Ronda (above) brought her sons. Everyone came to have their say, in hopes that we never have to attend another anti-war demonstration.

The atmosphere was more hopeful than angry. One reason might have been the overwhelming support from passing motorists; the cacophony of honking was at times almost too much.

I said "almost." This is a post I wish you could hear.

To see more photos from the event, click here. To check out Democracy for America's Pasadena Chapter ('cause they organized this shindig), click here.