A Trip South, Part 1

Photo courtesy of vacationvariety.net

We just returned from a journey to the Southland.  It started with a middle of the night trip south and ended with a morning return trip back thru the Valley.  Many miles in a short period of time.  Along the way many thoughts and discussions took place. We took the time to see some places in the L.A. Basin that we had never seen, and were forced to see some things we had hoped to avoid in our lifetime.

The trip was to deliver our daughter to the Long Beach Airport so she could start her visit to North Carolina to see her brother and boyfriend at Fort Bragg.  LAX had been the first choice, but in what is now becoming a typical airline issue the jumping off point needed to change.  Arrival at the LB Airport at Zero Dark 30 introduced us to a small airport that looked like it could be used in an Indiana Jones movie.  The new TSA requirements meant that newer portable rooms, think portable classrooms, were used for the screening of passengers and their waiting room.  I was reminded of those places that hadn't been totally undated into the new century and the main building had an Art Deco theme of the 30's and 40's going.   In hindsight though what the place lacked in ambiance it made up for in practicality.  We got into the airport parking easily, everything was a short walk away from the parking and the overall experience was good if you discount the fear of putting a loved child on a plane in the dark of morning.

As we were early to the airport, which was atypical for a man that lives on "Garver Standard Time" which is 30 minutes late to everything, we went to an all night coffee shop for some breakfast to kill some time.  It was a normal mid-century coffee shop near the airport.  A younger couple was leaving as we walked in and we passed three women sitting in a booth talking as we seated ourselves across the room from them.  They were dolled up pretty heavily and our daughter commented that they "sure used a lot of makeup."  Soon it became evident why.  We ate our meals and were entertained by this threesome of RuPaul wannabes. We finished, drove back to the airport, said our goodbyes and started our journey back to the land of bland and normal.

While I was a poor college student I picked up the habit of window shopping. I had no money so I figured what was the harm in looking.  I spent my free time honing the skill of observation. After getting married this has evolved into looking at houses and yards as well.  I guess a poor college student isn't much different than a couple with young children.  Looking is free, which is all you can afford at times.  On our return trip we decided to take a few detours to places we hadn't seen before in L.A.  We were leaving the airport about 0545 so we knew nothing would be open and hopefully the streets would be relatively empty.  Again nowhere to spend money and looking is free, so we headed to Venice Beach.  We were planning to look at houses and yards while avoiding the normal weird of this seaside city.   The first snag was getting back on Highway 405 to get to the beach.  Our trip south had been traffic free, which given the hour was what we had hoped for.  But now, at this hour, the 405 was clogged with going to work commuters.  And at this location in the city it was mired in both directions.  Eventually we got off and meandered through Marina Del Rey and arrived at Venice.  In many ways it was a typical California beach town.  The brightly painted buildings and abundance of eateries, clothing/surf shops and bike/board rental businesses didn't seem out of place.  The movie trailers covering a parking lot was different though.

We drove around a bit then started to find our way back to the 405. For a couple of California raised people, it was a trip through a book of  TV shows and California placenames.  Any trip to Los Angeles is a continual merging of moving from one city to the next.  The trip down reminded us of that and the trip up was no different, just different names. From Venice to Santa Monica, and the more expensive cars and fancier buildings, to looking for Wilshire Boulevard while stumbling upon Colorado Boulevard.  Eventually finding Wilshire and continuing through the National Cemetery and falling into Bel Air.  All of these names we had grown up hearing and reading in the news; now we were driving through them.  Eventually we found the 405 in between Bel Air and the Getty Museum.  We thought about going, but it was only 0700 and figured they wouldn't be open. Time to head north.

0700.  Our daughter was finally in the air to see family and friend in a new place. We were heading back to an old place, but seeing it in a new way.