Everybody’s got a dream. A lot of people, they dream about being famous. They come to LA because they believe themselves to be talented enough or beautiful enough or just lucky enough to become a big star or a big star-maker. Most of those people become waiters. Hence, Sunset Boulevard is known as the boulevard of broken dreams and L.A. is home to the most adorable barristas and night auditors you’ll find anywhere on the planet. Some people have more eccentric or offbeat dreams though, and a lot of those people end up here as well (R.I.P. Silver Lake Walking Man).

Simon Rodia was of the latter stripe. He immigrated to the U.S. when he was fifteen, became a construction worker, married and divorced three times, and when he was in his early forties, set about constructing a legacy for one of L.A.’s most maligned neighborhoods. Rodia worked for thirty-three years building a monument of seventeen structures. The towers reach almost 100 feet in the air. The surfaces are jeweled with pottery, broken glass and tiles. And the whole of it was built by hand by one man who “had it in mind to do something big.”

Ask anyone who doesn’t live in the neighborhood what they think of when they think of Watts and they’ll say the Watts riots and the Watts Towers. That’s a legacy, ladies and gentlemen. This from a man who explained his accomplishment thusly, “Why I build it?  I can’t tell you.  Why a man make the pants?  Why a man make the shoes?” Why indeed? Not all of our dreams are broken in L.A.

Despite the city’s boneheaded attempt to raze the towers in the 50s, they live on. You can visit them Wednesday through Sunday (tours Friday through Sunday). I should confess, though, that despite having a great affection for “outsider art” (though I find this phrase a bit classist and annoying) and having lived in L.A. for going on nine years now, I have never been to the Watts Towers. I was all set to go this past Sunday, but in fact, I was stood up for a date. [Look for my Boulevard of Broken Dates post sometime in the near future.] Like Kevin, I had great aspirations for this post, but life happens to all of us.

Come for the Lush Scenery and Wildlife, Stay for the Hot, Molten Asphalt that won’t let you go!

I’m basically a little kid thinly disguised as an adult. Very thinly. So, when I go to write about The La Brea Tar Pits, my initial reaction is to jump up and exclaim, “Dey gots the Saber Toothed Tigers an’ dey goes, ‘Rraawrr!‘”

In fact, they are more properly known as Saber Toothed Cats, not Tigers, as they have far more in common with other of the Big Cats than modern tigers, and more than 2000 individual specimens of the Smilodon Californicus have been uncovered at the site. Evidence does, however, support the supposition that the beasts, indeed, did go, “Rraawrr!”

The site is one of the largest sites in the world for uncovering Ice Age Mammalian fossils. The sheer volume of bones from the vast span of years has brought invaluable insight to scientists the world over about our planet and how the ecosystem has adapted and flourished (or not) over the centuries. William W. Orcutt was the first man to take a scientific interest in the tar pits, gaining permission to excavate in 1901 from Rancho La Brea’s owner at the time, Henry Hancock.

That’s the Hancock family that Hancock Park is named for, while W.W. Orcutt got the local species of coyote named after him, Canis orcutti. The word “Brea” literally means “tar” or “pitch” in Spanish, so Rancho La Brea itself simply means “Tar Ranch.” I gotta admit, it sounds way cooler in Spanish. (Most things do: Consider “Antonio Banderas” versus “Tony Flags.” Seriously, he’d have no career.)

Anyway, the place is pretty cool, and cheap. Seven bucks, lots of cool fossils, and “The Fish Bowl,” where you can watch actual Paleontologists get their Paleontology on; this is a working fossil site, kids. They’re still digging stuff up and putting more and more together.

There are huge Mammoths assembled, of differing varieties, American Lions, Dire Bears, thousands of Dire Wolves, (Which, apparently, are not just D&D monsters.) and, of course, our friend, Smilodon Californicus, the Official State Fossil. “Smilodon” sounds so friendly, doesn’t it?

Rraawrr!

Main image above courtesy of Ian Coleman, used with permission; tho’ it being turned into a “Saber Tooth LOL Cat” is entirely my fault. Don’t blame him for that! He was very kind to let me use his picture. Please visit his site to view amazing wildlife paintings at http://www.colemangallery.com/Welcome.html.

This post is part of the L.A.’s Greatest Landmarks series – click here for the rest of the series!

The list of artists who have recorded in the studios in the Capitol Records building reads like a who’s who of popular music of the past half-century or so: Nat King Cole. Brian Wilson. Phil Spector. The first musician to record in studio A was Frank Sinatra. The building’s subterranean echo chambers, designed by guitar wizard Les Paul, are legendary, and arguably made the sound of West Coast popular music starting in the 1960s. (Back in 2008, those very chambers were under threat from a nearby condo development, raising a huge outcry from the local music community – I haven’t found any information on how or if that situation was resolved, so if anyone can fill us in, please do!) The building’s outside wall is covered in a mural that artist Richard Wyatt painted in 1990 commemorating important jazz artists, including Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Duke Ellington. The mural has faded significantly in the intervening years, belying the way the music of the artsts pictured continues to resonate in our musical landscape today. The Capitol Records building is, for all intents and purposes, a temple to recorded sound.

Even with all of this historical and musical pedigree, though, it’s tough to say if the Capitol Records Building would be as universally recognized as an LA landmark without its distinctive architechture. The first circular office building in Los Angeles, it’s often been described as resembling a stack of records, although that was noted LA architect Welton Becket (also responsible for the Cinerama Dome, the LAX Theme Building, the Beverly Hilton, and countless other examples of awesome So-Cal midcentury architechture – really, we could do an entire series on landmarks that he’s designed!) had in mind. Personally, though, I am more than content to consider it a (slightly more subtle) example of the kind of mid-century programmatic building design that I am so enamored with.

As we’ve been doing this series, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means for a place to be considered a landmark, and what drives us to visit those places. The Capitol Records Building is an interesting one because, unlike, say, Graumann’s Chinese or Bob’s Big Boy or the Strip or most of the other landmarks we’ve profiled, there’s nothing you can actually DO at the Capitol Record Building: it’s not open to the public, aside from the front lobby. Basically, you can go and stare at it and take a picture. Despite this, it was one of the first places that I visited when I moved to LA: as someone who makes their living as a music historian, I felt like I had to go simply for the sake of going, more as an act of pilgrimage than anything else. And I’ve definitely told many of my out of town colleagues that it’s a must-visit site for any music nerd visiting Los Angeles.

And while we’ve had our own internal debates here at blogging.LA about what makes a place a place landmark or not, for me, what makes a landmark is that weird, ineffable quality that some places develop: a quality that makes us want to go out of our way to go somewhere or see a place or be at a place, either because something interesting or important once happened there or, sometimes, just for the sake of being there. Landmarks that have a storied past are physical markers that can act like time machines, bringing us closer to that past. The Capitol Records building was like that for me: a way to feel closer to musicians who passed through those doors in the past. Standing in front of those doors, it’s easy to imagine what it might have been like inside: as a studio musician or a backup singer working hard under a scary, svengali-like Phil Spector; as a pop star in control of the microphone and in command of the room; as a technician, able to play with the sounds that those rooms can produce. And because it’s still a working studio, it also made me feel like a closer part of the music being made in those walls now.

KPCC recently went inside studio A in the Capitol Records building – you should totally check out their awesome slide show here.

Capitol Records photo courtesy of Nananere.

This post is part of the L.A.’s Greatest Landmarks series – click here for the rest of the series!

I had big plans for my Farmer’s Market post, really I did. I was going to eat at all my favorite stalls and take pictures of the food. I was going to get my hair cut at the new barber shop. I was going to buy a whole mess of produce and cut it up and make a big fruit salad, and then share that fruit salad with all of you. Don’t ask how. I had a system.

After getting into the history of the Farmer’s Market — how it began in the 1930s when crowd of local farmers banded together to sell produce on a plot of land called Gilmore Island, despite the fact that it was in the middle of the desert — I’d have gone on to talk about the dozens of restaurants there, including my all-time favorite (Loteria), my recent super-awesome discovery (Singapore’s Banana Leaf), my second-favorite-after-Pink’s place in LA to get hot dogs (Phil’s Deli & Grill), and the one place I’ve never tried but have always wanted to (Moishe’s).

Then I’d have probably prattled on about all the other cool stuff you can do there, like stocking up on produce and buying stickers (yes!) and picking up a new Lego set for the kids (totally yes!). Here’s the deal: When the zombie apocalypse comes, I’m walling off the Farmer’s Market and living there. At least until the local warlords take over.

Anyway, that’s what I was going to write. But, you know, life happens to all of us, and sometimes we don’t get to write our Farmer’s Market posts to the length and breadth we’d initially hoped. But fortunately, the Farmer’s Market at 3rd and Fairfax has a pretty broad diversity of stuff to do. So no single post could really do it justice, since there’d surely be a dozen disappointed people wondering why I didn’t mention their favorite place.

So I thought I’d use my lack of preparedness as an opportunity to go all We The Internet on y’alls asses, and let you do the talking. What’s your favorite spot in the Farmer’s Market? Where do you like to get lunch? What’s your favorite dish? Do you actually do any shopping there? Is there something you buy there to send to the family back east?

Respond in the comments. Let’s share.

Last week I mentioned an opportunity to have a (semi) up-close gander at Air Force One as it arrived at LAX yesterday. Did you go?

The President and his posse arrived about 40 minutes ahead of schedule Monday afternoon, which worked out really well for those of us who had gotten there early. It meant beating the worst of the afternoon traffic coming back up through downtown.

Now, speaking of the traffic, I heard it was terrible virtually everywhere yesterday. The Pres flew via Marine One from LAX to Beverly Hills, but once he got into the car bound for the DCCC fundraiser in Hancock Park, Secret Service street closures for the motorcade turned all of L.A. into one giant traffic clusterf*ck.

For the record, I was there for the arrival. I had nothing to do with the resulting traffic.

If you were there, how was it from where you stood? In addition to the grassy knoll at In-N-Out, I saw a bunch of people perched above Imperial Highway on W. Imperial Avenue, which gave the advantage of being down toward the end of the runway where Air Force One was parked.

The rest of the photos from my vantage point on the runway can be found in this Flickr set.

This past March, hot on the heels of Downtown’s years of resurgence and months of teasing, we welcomed back the “World’s Shortest Railway” – Angels Flight. What sat for nine years as a sadly locked-off, abandoned wonder that I yearned to experience (or at least climb onto like a kid whose city is her entire playground) on the north side of Angels Knoll park was finally real.

Now I can really feel it – I feel the wooden seats that remind me of historic streetcars other cities have been spoiled to have. I poke at the hanging light bulbs I probably shouldn’t be touching. I feel the car rattling up the steep incline, and the California sun beating on my shoulders through the open windows. I drop a quarter into the old-fashioned fare box, save a souvenir ticket for my collage, and run my fingers along the woodwork outside the little building housing the operator, overlooking California Plaza.

I make sure to ride on each car – both Olivet and Sinai, whom I’ve come to know as individuals via their ridiculous Twitter Account.

The railway may have moved a bit from its original location 100 years ago, but it acts like a little time machine. Moreso than the new downtown skyscraper on the site of what once was, or a snazzy, remodeled loft inside an historic piece of architecture, the simple ride makes me feel as if I’m inside those black-and-white photos of Angels Flight I downloaded from library archives, and transports me to the Bunker Hill of yesteryear – when one might take the funicular to get back to work up the steep hill after a lunch date. I think of how I need to get around to taking this ride at sunset, who I need to bring along with me next time, and out-of-towners I should take here on their next visit. It connects us to the rich history of Downtown L.A., the kind you don’t get anywhere much further away from the river on which this city was founded.

And just like that, after a few brief moments, the ride is over. But it’s only a quarter, so why not take it back down the hill again?

Check out the rest of the L.A.’s Greatest Landmarks series here.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame is, according to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, “undoubtedly one of the most successful marketing ideas ever produced.”  I don’t know whether to congratulate them or to sucker punch us for falling victim to the commercial.

And yet the Walk of Fame, for its attempts at crass tourism, is one of the most iconic, and oddest, landmarks of LA.  Intended to publicly acknowledge the contributions of those in the industry, we end up walking all over them even as we applaud.  It’s like a roast, without the snarky jokes. Muhammad Ali understood this completely, and requested that his star be placed on a wall, like a plaque or other commonplace gesture of tribute.  He is the exception: one point three miles of five-point stars line Hollywood streets the way the stars line the sky.

According to Wikipedia and the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, the cost to build the original section of the Walk of Fame was $1.25 million, which worked out to roughly $85/square foot for each property owner on the stars’ path.  Between 1960 and 1961, 1,558 stars were aligned on the sidewalk – excluding, notably, Charlie Chaplin.  Foreshadowing the finicky and political nature of the star selection process, Chaplin was denied a star despite his uh, mildly groundbreaking work in film.  The committee cited some vague thing or two about his morals (read: the 1960s were a bad, bad time to be a lefty).  The Tramp finally was given his due in 1972.

Today, you have to survive the politics as well as the economics to get a star on the Walk.  Anyone can be nominated so long as they have at least five years experience in one of five categories (television, film, radio, recording, and live theater) and so long as the nominee actually agrees to be nominated (deceased celebrities may be nominated, but they must be deceased for – you guessed it – at least five years).  Of the 200-ish nominations received each year, twenty are selected every June.  This year, Melissa Etheridge, Ridley Scott, The Muppets (!!), and Oprah are amongst the stars chosen for a star.  If you glance through the roster of stars, you’ll notice that for every deserving recipient (Johnny Carson, the Beatles), there a few dubious ones.  The Rugrats, really?  Drew Carey?  Kim Basinger?

In addition, there is a little issue of money: recipients must pay a mandatory fee of $25,000 to create and install their star, as well as to maintain the Walk of Fame generally.  It’s sort of like adopting a highway, except you get a star instead of an ugly roadside sign.

In the rare, rare occasions I’m in Hollywood, I get a kick out of watching which stars people stop to photograph.  One weekend afternoon a month or so ago, I watched as Michael Jackson’s star (in front of Grauman’s) was photographed by every person who walked by it.  Some apparently made it a point to seek out his five points; others were excited to find him by happenstance.  This reminded me of the other, more touching use of the Walk of Fame: as a place where we all can assemble, mourn, and pay our final respects.

Other stars that people like to photograph: Lucille Ball (I saw three separate parties snap a pic of her star (honoring her film contributions) at Hollywood and Wilcox.  The star honoring her for I Love Lucy and other television work is further down on Gower); Johnny Depp (outside of Grauman’s); and Kermit the Frog (whose birthplace is “NA.” C’mon, we all know he was born in the swamps…).

So iconic is the Walk of Fame, and so successful has it been at mashing tribute with tourism, that it has spawned other similar walks.  The Canadian Walk of Fame in Toronto honors the contributions of Canadians.  The Dog Walk of Fame in London honors the contributions of Toto, Gromit, and other pooches of note.  The Palm Springs Walk of Fame honors those who “must have, by their presence in the area, contributed to the charm, worldwide prominence and name recognition of Greater Palm Springs.”  (Contrary to what you may believe, there are non-gay people on that Walk of Fame too.).

For many aspiring to make it in Hollywood, getting a star on the Walk of Fame (Hollywood) is a sign that they indeed have touched the star they tried so hard to reach.  And when you are lauded one day, stepped on the next, well, you really did a swell job of earning that gold star.

Awesome aerial view of the Walk of Fame courtesy Christian Haugen under a Creative Commons license.  Photos of the Dennis Hopper and Michael Jackson stars courtesy lucyrk via the Blogging LA Flickr pool.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame is but one icon we’re covering in our LA’s Greatest Landmarks series.  See the others here.

Living by Venice Beach is like living by Mount Everest — it’s a world-famous landmark, yet I can’t recommend that everyone go there.  I love playing travel guide to visiting friends, and most of them have Venice Beach high on their list, but if they have young children, and especially if they’re from a small town or have small-town sensibilities, I warn the parents about the seediness and strange sights to which their kids may be exposed.

Geologists (or at least travel PR people) say that the Himalayan Mountains, including Everest, were created some 80 million years ago when “[t]he landmass which is now India separated from Gondwanaland and collided with Asia and thus created the highest mountain range in the world.”  In the same sense (hey, I made this absurd analogy, now I have to carry it through to its illogical conclusion), Venice Beach is where many cultures of Los Angeles come crashing together to make for one of the most colorful spots outside of those Tibetan prayer flag strings at Everest Base Camp (okay, enough already).  Some of these cultures include:

–stoners and (until now) medical marijuana dispensers, neighborhood locals, locals slumming from fancy L.A. neighborhoods, locals from not-so-fancy L.A. neighborhoods, people on meth, tourists from Middle America (id’d by their girth and 90s Eminem hip-hop clothes), tourists from Northern Europe (id’d by their formerly pale, now painfully sunburned skin, and clothes which, on Americans, would be totally gay), panhandlers, artists and craftspeople, in-your-face musicians, street performers, in-your-face wannabe rappers who stop Ocean Front Walk passers-by, Muscle Beach muscle men (id’d by their cartoonishly large muscles and cartoonishly small Speedos), surfers & skateboarders, and homeless people, who look the most at home of anyone on Venice Beach.

There are plenty of things I enjoy about Venice Beach.  I walk there regularly, in part to be among this colorful collection of  people.  It’s a great place to see some of the latest and greatest Los Angeles architecture, especially the concrete/glass/steel box.  Art, music, and other events are held there.  Scenes from some of your favorite movies were likely shot there.  If you want to buy cheap sunglasses, you’ll be in heaven.

A variety of food is available, from higher-end and healthy at Figtree’s Cafe to good sandwich-and-fries grub at the popular Sidewalk  Cafe, to decent enough pizza, ice cream, smoothies, etc. at several vendors.  It has tons of t-shirts, inexpensive jewelry, and “smoking accessories” for sale.  It has a state-of-the art skateboard park, typically filled with talented locals perfecting their moves.  You can rent different types of bicycles, and brave the hazardous bike path traffic that, on weekends and summer days, rivals the maddest of the 405.

So, I tell visitors, it all depends on what you’re in the mood for.  If you want to see where L.A.’s cultures collide like a certain mountain range, in an often sunny, warm beach setting, then Venice Beach needs to be on your short list.  If you want to see beautiful, peaceful SoCal beaches, and if you have blinders and earplugs, metaphorical or otherwise, then you certainly can walk out to the shore at Venice Beach and feel that squishy sand and see that dark blue Pacific Ocean.  But, like climbing Mount Everest, expect to be challenged.

(See the rest of the “L.A.’s Greatest Landmarks” series here)

The Smokehouse is still in the lead for Classic Eats #12 and you have about 24 hours to change that if you so desire!  The poll closes Monday afternoon.

Classic Eats #12 is on August 21. Click here to get to the poll.

The three awesome options are:

Burbank Bonanza: The Smokehouse

The Smokehouse has been nestled in Burbank since 1946, serving the likes of  Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Errol Flynn, Judy Garland, Milton Berle, and Jack Parr. Located right across the street from Warner Bros. Studios, you never know who you might see there. Captain and Tenille were discovered there — need I say more?? The Smokehouse is also famous for their garlic bread – okay twist my arm, I’ll orders some. BONUS: On Saturdays from 4-6pm you get 25% off any item on their regular dinner menu. I don’t have a second location for this event, so if anyone can chime in for a follow up spot, local to Burbank and in any way Classic, I’m in!

The Smokehouse
4420 West Lakeside Drive
Burbank 91505

LAX Adjacent: Pann’s and The Buggy Whip

If you’ve raced to catch a plane, speeding along La Tijera from mid-city, you’ve seen both Pann’s and The Buggy Whip. Maybe you’ve promised yourself “One of these days I’ll leave enough time to stop in.” Now’s your chance! Pann’s has been a Googie landmark and family owned since 1958. They’ve got excellent, classic diner food, served in an excellent, classic diner. It’s so classic that movies shoot there often. You may recall Pulp Fiction’s diner scene…?? That was Pann’s. Just look at all that Googie Goodness! The Buggy Whip is a classic red velvet booth, live piano player, bar/lounge/restaurant/banquet room all in one. It’s been named one of the best steak places in LA and is a bit pricey to prove it. I thought it best to start at Pann’s then mosey over to the ‘Whip for a post dinner cocktail or dessert in the lounge. I’m hoping there is a giant brandy snifter on the piano for tips…

Pann’s
6710 La Tijera Blvd
LA 90045
323-776-3770

The Buggy Whip
7420 La Tijera Blvd.
LA 90045
(310) 645-7131

Off The Hook: Bahooka

This might be a trek for some of you, but hey, it’s going to be so worth it! This place is INSANE! Born in 1967, full of fish tanks and fish of every color and type and size, wacky giant sized tikis and even crazier flaming drinks. I’d never heard about it until recently, but dang, it looks worth the trip! I can’t do it justice. Click that link!

Bahooka
4501 N. Rosemead Blvd.
Rosemead, CA 91770
(626) 285-1241 -or- (626) 285-7514

For the uninitiated, the name Walt Disney Concert Hall (WDCH) conjures up images of– well– Disneyland. But even though Lillian Disney made the initial gift of $50 million to the Music Center in dedication to her late husband with additional funding coming from the Disney family, this building is really not Disneyesque at all. Though it bears the name of Disney, many other individual and corporate donors, as well as The County of Los Angeles (which agreed to provide the land and significant additional funding to finance the concert hall’s six-level subterranean parking garage) are credited to bringing LA’s newest landmark (on this particular series, anyway) to life in 2003.

Designed by Los Angeles-based architect Frank Gehry, WDCH is the newest addition to the Music Center and home to the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Master Chorale. The Roy and Edna Disney CalArts Theatre (REDCAT), which features experimental dance, theater, music, film and visual arts exhibitions, is also located in this complex.

There’s no doubt that one of the most controversial parts of the building is the architecture itself. The shiny, metallic curves of the building jut out of the downtown landscape– unmistakably taking a spot as an L.A. landmark since it opened. I admit it– I hated this thing as I watched it being built in the late 1990s. I thought it was horrifically garish and I thought it was hilarious when the reflective qualities of the surface (plus some of the concave sections of the building) turned out to act like a parabolic mirror– causing a “heat ray effect” to the condos nearby and creating hot spots on adjacent sidewalks of as much as 140 degrees (F). In 2005, the bright glare of WDCH was literally dimmed when the metal panels were sanded down to a more “matte” finish.

Maybe I just needed some time for my eyes to adjust to the glare, but admit I no longer see this building as an eyesore. And I’ve even gotten to know it and love it– outside and in.

Acoustically speaking, WDHC is amazing. One of the things that won me over was how the architectural elements of the new hall affect its acoustics. First and foremost, this building is a concert hall and the work of the architect, as well as acoustician Yasuhisa Toyota, reflect this.

By the Numbers:
• The Hall contains 12,500 pieces of primary steel, which weigh over 11,000 tons
• Over 30,000 architectural drawings were produced to build the Concert Hall
• A 750,000-lb. crane was needed to erect the steel support structure
• 300 tons of bolts and welds were used
• 18,000 cubic yards of concrete were poured, including two roof slabs 15 inches thick
• Eight skylights were designed with glass three inches thick to keep the interior naturally bright

The design of the hall includes a large concert organ, which was completed in 2004 and despite some of our positive and negative experiences with it, there’s no doubt that there’s no other organ which looks like this in the world. The organ is so complex that it took a full year to tune.

But my personal favorite thing about WDCH is that even if you don’t have the time or the money to attend the concert, you can still go and do free things there. Aside from taking pictures of the stunning building (ok, so you need a camera for that), you can take a free audio tour of Walt Disney Concert Hall and garden along with the Library of Congress/Ira Gershwin Gallery, the only permanent Library of Congress exhibition outside of Washington DC. According to Frommers, “the 45-minute self-guided tour is narrated by actor John Lithgow and includes interviews with Frank Gehry, Los Angeles Philharmonic music director Gustavo Dudamel, and acoustician Yasuhisa Toyota, among others. One big caveat is that you see just about everything except the auditorium: There’s almost always a rehearsal in progress and the acoustics are so good that there’s no discreet way to sneak a peek. The audio tours are available on most non-matinee days from 10am to 2pm (be sure to check their website for the monthly tour schedule).”

The debate of whether or not the Walt Disney Concert Hall “fits” the downtown landscape still rages on– but in my mind, there is no doubt that it is a landmark which will come to define Los Angeles– and its arts– for decades to come.

Check out the other posts in our L.A.’s Great Landmarks series.

Photo credits: Walt Disney Concert Hall: Mash Down Babylon/Devon Hollahan; WDCH at night: lightmatter/Aaron Logan; WDCH interior & organ by Will Campbell

After some two years in the way of planning and designing, many hours of many weekends this spring were spent by volunteers digging and hauling and planting and nurturing and shaping and scaping what had long been the desolate corner of concrete at the intersection of Parkman Avenue and Silver Lake Boulevard south of Sunset Boulevard into the living “urban lounge” that is now one of Los Angeles’ newest pocket parks.

While I failed miserably and absolutely in my intentions to pitch in, thankfully there were enough of my neighbors who got involved and stayed involved and enlisted others that gave of themselves.  And it all culminated yesterday with an official ribbon-cutting ceremony attended by City Councilman Eric Garcetti, who spoke eloquently about the importance of projects such as this.

Pictured above in the front row flanking the giant-scissor-bearing councilman are Julie Hansen and Ara Babian to Garcetti’s right, with Leon Kaye and John Southern to his left. Southern is holding a certificate of appreciation presented by the city’s Office of Community Beautification.

To make up for my lack of volunteer participation in the park’s creation, I’ll be helping maintain it with monthly visits to remove the inevitable trash that will accumulate. In addition, I plan to utilize it as a new gathering point for any future group bike rides I may host since it’s one that’s a lot pleasant than the parking lot at Silversun Plaza, what with its liquor store’s cranky bike-hating proprietor.

More info on the nonprofit Parkman Triangle Group is here, and below is  a pic of the space:

Captured on Abbott Kinney, natch:

Makes the other bikes over there seem a little sad and plain, doesn’t it?  There, there plain bike Janes.  One day, you too will be pretty and popular and able to wheel away with faux fur.  Just not today.

Ah, the romance of the rails. Union Station in downtown Los Angeles is a gorgeous reminder of a time when travel was slower, more deliberate and perhaps a bit more civilized. Union Station is a great cathedral of modern life, a hushed but bustling place.

Built in 1939 for $11 million (which is about $168 million today) and originally known as LAUPT, or Los Angeles Union Passenger Terminal, the Spanish Mission style station was actually a bit late in the history of Grand Railroad Terminals. But Los Angeles was booming, having had a large population influx starting in the 20′s. LA needed a major terminal and the LAUPT was built to combine two local railroad terminals and three trainlines: the Southern Pacific, Union Pacific and Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe.

Now LAUS, also referred to as LAX (no really!), Union Station sees approximately 1.5 million travelers a year and generates over $55 million in ticket sales.  With Amtrak, bus lines and local train service running through it, Union Station is full of city life. And this being LA, it gets used as a set or backdrop in many a movie and tv show.

Part of the original Station plan was the Harvey House Restaurant. Fred Harvey started opening restaurants at railroad stations after the Civil War. He made a deal to partner with the Santa Fe railroad and “civilized the west.” Harvey Houses were the first to employ women as servers as Mr. Harvey found them more reliable then the wild men out in the west. Harvey House Restaurants served good food at reasonable prices in elegant surroundings. And when you peek in the windows at the former HH, or are lucky enough to be invited to a private party there, you can see how swell of a place it must have been in it’s heyday. (Our own Lucinda Michele wrote about it a while back.)

I highly recommend an afternoon in the area, you can shop and eat at Olvera Street, then have a cocktail (and/or dinner) at Traxx Restaurant and Bar, then head over to Chinatown. (We had a great time at Union Station during Classic Eats #2 in 2009.)

Even more highly recommended is to take the train from Union Station somewhere. (I mean, if you aren’t already a regular commuter…) I was fortunate enough to take the Coast Starlight from LA to Seattle last summer. Seeing LA from an angle I don’t normally get to see was fascinating.

All photos by me and lots of research done with help from Great American Stations and the Harvey House site.

From the towering neon sign to the statue of the rotund boy in his distinctive red and white checked overalls to the 1950’s coffee shop architecture, Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank is undoubtedly one of L.A.’s most well-known and beloved landmarks. In 1993, this oldest remaining restaurant in the national chain was restored to its 1949 glory and designated a “California Point of Historical Interest.” At that time, the sign was repaired, the dining room was remodeled, and an outdoor patio was added. Car-hop service was also re-established on Saturday and Sunday nights. Every Friday night, a classic car show is held in the ample parking lot, which fills with shiny hot rods and cruisers from the 1950s and 60s.

I discovered Bob’s Big Boy shortly after moving to L.A. in 1994. We could walk to it from our apartment and more importantly, discovered we could do so 24 hours a day! While we can still walk to Bob’s from our current home, it does take quite a bit longer. Much more frequently, we take advantage of the hours and catch a bite to eat after a concert or movie. It’s become our go-to place after Halloween festivities because the place is packed with other costumed people and the party seems to continue.

If you’re looking for a gourmet meal, Bob’s will not be your first choice, but they do serve up decent, affordable diner fare. You can get breakfast and homemade milk shakes around the clock. The staff is friendly and we recognize other regular customers, as well as the occasional celebrity, when we eat there. I’ll admit that we do go to Bob’s about once a week, often on a particular night to see some friends who have a regular meet up at the restaurant.

Bob’s Big Boy is located at 4211 W Riverside Dr. in Burbank/Toluca Lake. You only have a couple of hours to catch the classic cars, but you have all night to grab a burger or some chili spaghetti.

A full list of the posts in our L.A.’s Great Landmarks series can be found here.