City Hall Hall

Do you mind if I post another photo of City Hall? I've said it before: it's hard to take a bad picture of the place. This is the hallway that runs the length of the east side of the building. There are similar hallways along the other three sides of the courtyard, but the east side's different because it's open to the street, and to the sun.

I've posted about City Hall before. You can read those other posts by clicking the label "city hall" below. If you're in town, stop by the information booth inside the (impressive) entryway and get a brochure. Give yourself a tour. Take some photos. It's hard not to.

Missed

This orange was probably not dropped by a human but by a tree. If nobody's going to eat this item of delectability, Pasadena Department of Public Works Street Maintenance and Integrated Waste Management has a plan for it.

It cannot go into the bin on the right. That bin is for yard waste recycling. Public Works will have you know, fruit is not yard waste. Neither is dirt, your garden hose, nor your dog's art work. (Here at PDP dog waste is called "turdets," a word coined here by the witty, charming and thoughtful Dina.)

The orange can't go in the bin with the blue lid, either. That bin is for household recycling. Did you know that in Pasadena, "the more you recycle the less you pay"? We can recycle all kinds of stuff but not everything, so we have to educate ourselves. The city sends out an instructional flier at the end of each year. I keep it on the fridge and refer to it, to make sure I'm not throwing the wrong stuff into the bin. You can also check the website.

This family's doing a good job of recycling. The two biggest bins are recycling bins. The wayward orange goes in the smallest bin, the garbage bin. Yep, the orange is waste.

Unless somebody eats it. Squirrel? Skunk? Possum? Anybody?

Zen Tuesday: #3

On Zen Monday you experience the photo then tell me what it's about, rather than me telling you what to experience from viewing it. Because yesterday was theme day, this week Zen Monday is Tuesday.

The Zen photos will now be numbered instead of titled, so as to leave more to the imagination.

Theme Day: Sister Cities

The first of every month is theme day among the City Daily Photo blogs, and the theme for September 1st is Sister Cities. I got it together too late to sign up officially for the theme this month, but will that stop me?

Pasadena has several sister cities. One of them is Xicheng District, Beijing, China. Hmm. Let me see, what's been going on in Xicheng District lately? Do I know anyone in Beijing?

Ooh. I'm so lucky. My friend and voice-over mentor Michael Villani, one of the loveliest people you could ever meet, has just returned from calling indoor volleyball in the Xicheng District of Beijing at the 2008 Summer Olympics. You may have seen Mike on your television screen as the indoor volleyball venue announcer at the table right at the net. He was part of the action and he had the time of his life. Here's Mike's caption for the photo above:

Mr. Tien, the Indoor Volleyball competition manager, with me and Du Shuen, my Chinese contact for the last 6 months and Mr. Tien's assistant...and a shot of the new (for the Olympics) Terminal 3 at Beijing Capital Airport, at 3.8 billion (yes, Billion) dollars to build, it's one of the largest buildings on Earth.

Mike's been writing a column for his hometown newspaper in Costa Mesa, and emailing copies to friends. A couple of excerpts:

I am being treated like a “rock star” here. I’ll be sitting at my announcers table...and a group of enthusiastic young Chinese girls and guy volunteers will come up and snap a picture. The bolder ones ask if I’ll take a picture with them. When you pass them, they go out of their way to smile, wave and say hello...It’s just one of the most pleasant environments I have experienced in a long time...I have found, especially with the young people...an exuberance and joy that abounds in everything they do. These are extremely content, happy individuals, who love to treat one another with the utmost respect, kindness and dignity. I have to say it is very refreshing.

Before boarding the flight home, Mike sent a reflective message:

How do you write about a surreal dream...something you can't even imagine happening to you in the first place. How do you capture the essence of magic and try to do it justice in a few columns?

148 City Daily Photo blogs got it together in time to participate officially in today's theme. Check them out!

(Because today is theme day, Zen Monday will be Zen Tuesday this week.)

Seeing vs. Believing

It's been a while since I've posted a shot of palm trees and sky. And telephone wires.

Before I looked at the photo I thought I had taken a picture of palm trees and sky in the shape of a V.

(Shouldn't we have found an alternative to wires by now? This is the 21st century. Wires seem so 19th century to me, tracing across the landscape like shoelaces, holding the world together. But that's beside the point.)

I've talked to other photographers about this; we think we see a shot. We point the camera, we even shoot. When we view the shot later, it's not what we had thought it was.

I didn't notice the wires before because they're so much a part of our landscape as to have become invisible. Until I looked at the photos. Wires everywhere.

And my V's not perfect, there's a gap in the left side.

It brings to mind a quote by the great photographer Dorothea Lange: "The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera." This is why you see photographers walking around making the little box with their hands and looking through it.

Obviously I'm still learning how to see without the camera. I'm also walking around all dreamy-eyed, because everything looks like a photo to me now. Since I've been taking pictures, I want to capture it all. But there's no urgency. There are plenty of telephone wires to photograph.

Passionflower

You might recognize this, but when I saw it I stopped in my tracks like Boz does when there's something he must smell.

When I got home I searched for it on the web. It's Passiflora incarnata, otherwise known as Purple passionflower. It's easy to see why it got its name; it's beautiful enough to fall in love with.

This plant was growing around the base of a palm tree on a residential street. I want some in my yard. A site called Dave's Garden says Purple passionflower is "wild, invasive and virtually indestructible." That would be fine, the yard needs some work.

Wikipedia says the plant is used to treat anxiety and sleeplessness. I'm off to buy some today. Yesterday I invited a few friends to join me for tea at a place we hadn't tried, and...well read about it at Miss Havisham's place if you can bear it.

Windows of the Soul

Yesterday John and I went to a Beverly Hills opthalmologist and had our pupils dilated. Woohoo! Livin' the life.

I began going to doctor Koh about 18 years ago when I was working in West Hollywood. I love the guy and he's the one provider I haven't switched to this end of the world. I have to say, though, as glamorous as Beverly Hills may be, on a Thursday afternoon the downtown part is a traffic jam, a cloud of construction dust, a noise.

But this is a Pasadena blog. No pictures of Beverly Hills. As soon as we got outta there we hurried back home to take eyeball pictures.

The French say, "Les yeux sont le miroir de l'âme"—"The eyes are the mirror of the soul." I don't know if Pasadena is our soul, but we were glad to be back home, where in our eyes you can get a view of our garage through our dining room window.

Superfluous Detail: Professional Lamp

The Professional Building at 65 N. Madison Avenue is one of Pasadena's quieter architectural gems. You've been by it; it sits on the southwest corner of Madison and Union. The internet is strangely silent about it, so I welcome tips from readers on who the architect was or when it was built. My guess is 1920s or 1930s. It's got a bit of Deco flair to it.

If you aren't lucky enough to have a doctor, lawyer or accountant in the building, there's a pharmacy and a coffee shop on the first floor. A reasonable excuse to drop by and pretend you're Hildy Johnson for a few minutes. If that's reasonable.

Nature's Bounty

This was part of our haul on a short hike up the Sam Merrill Trail Monday. Most other days there isn't much trash. But after the weekend, when the non-regulars, dilettantes and drinkers have been there, you don't have to go far to find this much—about a mile and a third, what locals call "to the towers".

The photo doesn't include three more plastic bottles and an oreo cookie we found on the way out of the park, perched next to the "$1000 Fine For Littering" sign.

You, my dear readers, do not litter. Of course not. So ranting here will be lost on you. I'll be grateful, though, if you'll allow me to get it off my chest.

Why do you suppose people litter? What makes them think it's okay to drop a plastic bottle just anywhere, when it's going to take a thousand years or more for the thing to biodegrade? Why can't they take it with them and recycle it, or at least put it in a trash bin? Surely a person strong enough to hike up a steeply graded hill still has the strength to carry an empty bottle to the trash. I'm especially amazed by runners who charge up and down the hill and toss bottles into the bushes when they're finished because carrying it might interfere with—what? Rhythm? Speed? Pace? Which is more important, the planet or one runner's perfect mile?

If you'd seen us coming down the trail Monday morning, our pockets full of plastic bottles and paper cups, you'd have thought we'd been up there on the mountain hydrating all night. We have to leave behind the stuff that's too precarious—either too far down the escarpment or stuck high up in branches. The park rangers, or nature, will have to deal with it.

There you go, your tax dollars at work cleaning up after some lazy #%$& who can't be bothered to carry a teeny weeny plastic bottle. Well, you know how burdensome an empty bottle can get. I carried two or three of 'em the other day myself. Whew.

Housenography

As long as John and I have lived in the Pasadena area we've been aware of the huge house on North Lake Avenue. We used to drive by it every day when we lived in Altadena. We couldn't guess much from the street; the house was behind a brick fence and mostly what we could see was the high peak of the roof. The lot was huge and the house sprawled over much of it, and even though at that time the house was an unattractive pink, we coveted it.

Now the "gracious English estate" is painted white, looking more distinguished and on the market for just under two million dollars. We went to the open house last Sunday. Gracious it is, an aging beauty with good bones. The 9-bedroom house was built in the 1920s by architect Kenneth Gordon, who built other distinguished properties in this area.

Above is a rear view of the house. I decided to use it because many locals know the front view but we never get to see the house from behind. Yesterday's "secret window" photo was taken in a room we discovered by opening a door we found inside a closet, that led into a room beyond the closet. It could be a secret hiding place, known only to the house's owner. On the floor plan it's called "storage."

For a little extra fun, below are the patio and a view of the pool from an upstairs room. (Click to enlarge the photos.)

We wandered. The house is almost 4500 square feet. There's a pool house, guest house, an old-fashioned tennis court and a converted garage. The traces of the times still show in places: the tennis court has changed very little since the 1920s, for example. A peace sign is painted on the inner wall of a shed.

I won't lie. The house needs some cosmetic work. But I still covet it.

Zen Monday: Secret Window

You tell me about the window today. Tomorrow I'll show you where I found it.

On Zen Monday you experience the photo then tell me what it's about, rather than me telling you what to experience from viewing it.

A-Car

I know they named themselves "A-Car" so they could be at the top of the listings. I laugh when people do stuff like that.

Not long after I moved to Pasadena my car needed a major repair. I didn't know a mechanic here, so I went through the AAA listings. The nearest place with an appointment available happened to be A-Car on Walnut at Mar Vista, and the Service Manager happened to be Vic.

I drive about 10,000 city miles a year. That's L.A. miles, baby, that's wear and tear. The poor car (we call her the Snot Comet—don't ask) has had some major work done, just like any other L.A. babe with miles on her. I've come to trust Vic and his team with the big stuff. When the job is negligible—tighten this or loosen that—Vic waves me off without charging me. Why on earth does he do that? Why doesn't he charge me through the nose when he knows I haven't the faintest idea what he did and I'd probably pay? Because Vic is that rarity of rarities, an honest businessman.

He's also no fool. In me he has a customer for life, and he knows it.

The car in the photo above is not mine. I want to clarify that. I wonder if that person is as happy with A-Car as I am?

Amy's Patio Café

Altadenahiker and I scolded Café Observer (in a loving way) when he admitted he'd never been to Amy's Patio Café. We love Amy's: much classier than a diner but just as friendly.

John and I ran an errand in Canyon Country yesterday morning. We were late and had to skip breakfast. By the time we got back we had worked up an APPETITE for Amy's. We missed the breakfast rush and were too early for lunch, but they fixed us up some eggs, stat. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture of the zucchini bread that comes first thing to every table, but it didn't survive long enough for the camera to come out of my purse.

A little review of Amy's:

Food: Classy but not snooty. They serve breakfast and lunch made with fresh ingredients. Although you can get straight-up fare, you can also opt for more adventuresome omelets, sandwiches or salads. They give you enough and the coffee's good.

Service: These people are good-natured. I think owner Lauren requires it. And I don't know if she always does this, but she stopped by our table yesterday and has done so when I've visited previously, too.

Ambiance: Airy. There's no actual patio, but the huge picture window, ceiling fans and greenery make it seem like one. The music is quiet and they don't air-condition the place to freezer proportions. You can go in your hiking clothes or your business suit.

Prices: Mid-range. We paid about $15 each for a big breakfast, including tax and tip.
Location: Southeast corner of Lake Avenue and Altadena Drive in Altadena.
Parking: Teeny lot right there. More on Lake just south.

Yesterday I forgot to ask Lauren who Amy is, but if memory serves, Lauren named the café after her mother. I couldn't find a website. The link above is to their MySpace page. I friended them. That's appropriate.

Castellated

I was certain this gathering of turrets was another creation by Leo until I ran into Leo himself. "Not this time," he said. So I don't know who made the little castles in the foreground.

The fortress in the background is the Devil's Gate Dam. I know who built that, if Wikipedia's article is correct (though I think Wikipedia's a place to begin one's research rather than end it): the Los Angeles County Flood Control District built the dam in 1920.

Hard to believe we ever needed flood control, isn't it?

All things change. Even castles are impermanent. Droughts too, and that's no fairy tale.

Arf Imitates Art

There's plenty of graffiti around town. Some of it's interesting, even good. I haven't posted much because I think of it as vandalism. No matter how artistic it is, it's still defacement of property and I don't want to promote it. I'm interested to hear your thoughts on the subject.

Boz is an artist. He vandalizes the Arroyo all the time. I found biodegradable/compostable dog waste bags at Whole Foods, so once he's completed an art project we take it to the nearest art receptacle. There are plenty of them, conveniently but discretely placed along the path in the Lower Arroyo Park.

Fields of Dreams

John and I love to take Boz for long walks in the (relatively) wild fields north of the Devil's Gate Dam, an area locally known as "JPL." (We don't actually walk the dog at the Jet Propulsion Lab. As much fun as the lab might be for us I don't think the scientists would appreciate the intrusion and I'm sure it would all be lost on Boz.)

Many people use the area, properly named Hahamongna Watershed Park. I often see horseback riders, runners, bikers and hikers, plus ground squirrels, lizards, rabbits and all kinds of birds I couldn't begin to name. But I hadn't seen a guitarist until the other day.

I'm usually shy about photographing people but this was an opportunity not to be missed, so I approached the man and asked if I could take his picture. He said, "Shoot away, have fun." He began to play and I began to shoot, and it was fun (though it was still lost on Boz). The al fresco musician's name is Ronnie Ray Fields; he practices in the park because he loves it there and dreams of getting better. I thought he sounded pretty good. John and I noticed he was being a good neighbor, too; his amplifier was turned down low and as we stepped away the sound faded quickly.

The experience was encouraging. Maybe I'll be bold enough to ask for a photo of a human again soon. Folks can always say no but they might say yes, and I might meet more interesting Pasadenyites like Ronnie Ray Fields.

From Pandemonium to Pasquale

When LizBeth Lucca, artistic director of the Repertory Opera Company, invited me to photograph a dress rehearsal of Donizetti's Don Pasquale, I was glad to go. The Repertory Opera Company is the group I enjoyed so much last April when they performed Music in the Mansion at the Fenyes Mansion of the Pasadena Museum of History.

Last Sunday night was the first dress rehearsal for Don Pasquale, which opens this Thursday at 8PM at the Neighborhood Church of Pasadena (details here). If you've never been to a first dress rehearsal the chaos might shock you. But I felt right at home amid the inevitable wardrobe malfunctions, missed entrances and forgotten lines. After all, the purpose of a dress rehearsal is to iron out the kinks.

The singing, though, was something else altogether. Above, soprano Keiko Clark sings the role of Norina. Thursday night she'll be singing with, among others, Conrad Immel as Don Pasquale. I know from my stage experience that by then the lights will be in place, entrances will be perfectly timed, and the performers will be as comfortable in their parts as Michael Phelps is in the water.

Director Lucca, a trained singer and actor herself, teaches an acting class for opera singers and prides herself on a company with acting chops. Even in rehearsal, the comic moments had me laughing out loud. In the short time I was there, the kinks got smoother and smoother, and the excitement of opening night filled the air like music.

Zen Monday: No Parking

Oh go ahead. Try.

Zen Monday is the day you experience the photo then tell me what it's about, rather than me telling you what to experience from viewing it.

The Climb Begins

Saturdays are busy on the Sam Merrill Trail, but yesterday was the first time I ever saw a troop of U.S. Marine Corps recruits take to the path. The sergeant (front row, center) was amenable when I asked if I could take a photo, but now that I look at it I'm not sure all the recruits wanted their picture taken. However, they were ordered into formation and they posed with their mascot, Banzai. This group is from the Pasadena Substation.

They're at the beginning of a learning process and it's not going to be easy. Already things were tough on the trail. One recruit had trouble keeping up; it was hot, the recruit wasn't in shape and the sergeant had to yell. It was going to be a long hike.

John and I did a short hike, part way up. On the way down we passed a brief altercation between the sergeant and a civilian hiker who thought the sergeant was being too harsh.

Archetypally, it was an argument between protector and protected.

That sparked a discussion between me and John about whether or not the Marines should have been training in public view on the Sam Merrill trail. It's clear we need a military, as unfortunate and medieval as that may be. And the training can be tough, it can get ugly. And although we well-protected, well-to-do, insulated non-military types benefit from it we don't want to be exposed to it, do we?

If you read my blog you know I'm one of those lefties who despise war, but I can tell the difference between the fight and the fighter. The young people I saw on the trail yesterday may end up as supply officers, soldiers, engineers, recruiters... Regardless, they volunteered to serve their country, our country. I don't know what sent them, whether they're escaping something or seeking something. I only know I'm grateful and I hope they find what they need. That recruit who struggled up the hill was struggling with more—with self and with Self. And there are bigger battles to come.

I wish them all safety and success.

On-Air Advertising

Is Linens 'n Things going out of business everywhere? From the looks of their website my guess would have been that it's just the one on Lake Avenue in Pasadena and another in Glendale. Oh—and one in Racine, Wisconsin.

But it's everywhere . In bankruptcy since May, Linens' n Things is closing 59 stores so far.

Guys have been standing out on Pasadena street corners for months now with those big arrow signs touting the going-out-of-business sale. They flip the sign or wave it, or stand holding it while listening to their iPod. (I was an awful waitress but I think I prefer that to sign-holding.)

I understand there are only a couple more days left in th Pasadena store's life. Not much merchandise left either, but at 95% off how picky are you gonna be?

post updated with bankruptcy information at 11:20 a.m.
post updated with "Surrender Dorothy" by Palm Axis at 5:10 p.m.