On Thursday, April 18th, after hugs and goodbyes shared with the Eichmann family, I pointed Henry David toward Seal Beach. What a beautiful day. HD scooted along the beach happily on the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH). I deviated a few times when beach bike paths were present. On parts of PCH, you can’t see the ocean because homes and hotels get the beachfront property and block the view from the rest of the town. Blech. But whenever possible, the highway zips in close enough for some welcome views. Even without the visible ocean, you know you are on the coast. It is in the air. It is in the buildings, in the businesses, on people’s faces.
It’s often a hilly ride. The whole world is hilly. This is what I now recognize as fact.
I also know that Henry David is pretty tough.
I just pray that a chain doesn’t break when I’m on a crawler gear on a steep hill.
From San Clemente, you pass Dana Point, move through Laguna and Newport Beaches, and then reach----Huntington Beach. More memories came flooding back to my mind. Wide beach and so much sand! And great bike paths bordering the entire length. By the pier, there are volleyball games, frisbee matches, sail surfing, swimming, cycling, running, and families playing. There are fire pits for the teens to gather round at night and play guitars and drums and roast marshmallows. Remember Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon in Beach Blanket Bingo? From my own history, I remember this huge beach being packed towel to towel on any summer weekend day. I remember my brother Sean warning me about riptides and helping me through the waves as an 8 yr old. I remember my sister Katie’s beach pad a few blocks from the beach when I was 10 and she was an 18 yr old rebel in 1968. She was my hippie sister and I adored visiting her. I was at that precocious age between child and adult. I wore a two piece--just beginning to blossom. I switched between sashaying across the sand trying to look like a teenager or building sand castles with my brother. Did you lay out to get a perfect, even, smoothe tan or play frisbee and say, “to heck with the work of getting a good tan, I wanna run!”? I think the latter choice won most of the time. By the time I was a teenager, I definitely preferred walking and running and playing to lying down to sweat with a bottle of Coppertone Dark Tanning Oil. My tan now is pretty funny. Tan legs in the front, pale in the back, and pefectly white feet. Tan arms and face. Torso pretty gringa! I’m thinking of calling myself a Chicanga. Or maybe a Mickano. Silly, eh?
Huntington Beach is considered “Surf City”. It says so right on the sign on the bridge, welcoming you to this famous beach. But I didn’t know it was famous. I just thought it was “my” beach.
At Hungtington Beach, as I exited the public beach restroom (totally appreciated), I met Greg. This is a fine looking middle aged man who spends his mornings at the library studying the global economy and then hops on his “fixie” and cycles 50 miles--from Irvine to the beach and back again. A “fixie”, or “fixed”, is basically a Beach Cruiser---there are no gears. Remember being a kid with a single gear bike? Yeah, but we didn’t cycle up crazy hills if we could avoid it! He has sustained a few broken chains on those hills, he admits!
Greg is handsome, strong, fit, and personable. He enjoys keeping up on the news, studying, cycling, fresh air, the ocean, and simply being alive. He tries to enjoy every minute, whether it be observing a beautiful butterfly, watching the play of light on a wave, talking to an interesting person, or thinking about what really matters in life. He is a spiritual man. We talked about gratitude, world affairs, cycling, and what it means to really be alive. I felt blessed to have met him.
I think he and my sister Katie could happily share world news and could spend at least a full day comparing notes. They would have found much in common. Then they would possibly save the world. I like that idea.
Coming north from Huntington Beach, you go through Sunset Beach and Surfside and then to Seal Beach. More beautiful oceanside views, cool shops, hilly beachfront properties. In Seal Beach, I made a brief turn inland to stay the night with my cousin, Dr. Pat Kearney, and her husband Dr. Tim Plax. They both teach at the California State University Long Beach in Communications. They have written college Communications textbooks together and have also paired up on research. Pat has spent a good part of her career studying how students learn; how teachers can maximize their lecture skills for the student audience; and what students really want out of their educational experience. But now, she hopes to reduce her hours to a part-time status. That is considered “semi-retirement” in the University setting, but it will still involve classroom lectures, research, writing, etc. Doesn’t sound even “semi” -retired! Pat would like to try her hand at writing a novel, as her textbooks have been standard accepted materials for Communications majors. She wouldn’t tell me the plotline of her first planned novel; she doesn’t want to “jinx” it. Her secrecy lent an air of mystery to the story and I can’t wait to read it!!!
Pat is a petite, slender woman who looks like Jackie Kennedy-Onassis. She works out with a trainer and it shows. She is gracious and smart and, wow, what a hostess. In a moment’s notice, she put together an incredible meal while I chatted with her husband and with her brother Mike---another cousin. These “cousins” are like 2nd or 3rd cousins. She and Mike are my dad’s first cousins, but very close to my own age. Just think of it this way: generations of Irish Catholics--large families with women bearing children from practically late teens until menopause. Then you can get an age spread that boggles your mind. Fortunately, our generation changed the baby proliferation. Well, some of us have. As well as a few other traditions. I don’t bemoan the letting go; I tend to welcome new thoughts and a spiritual and mental evolution. Pat and I talked some politics and religion--we ARE Irish Americans after all---topics such as: the current “Me” generation of expected entitlement (we think we weren’t like that when we were young, but Socrates and Plato would disagree), trials of the professor in the classroom, etc., and we have delusions of being able to fix it all! Well, actually, we are flummoxed and don’t know how to fix much of anything. But we would like to think we can! We need a Kearney in the Presidency! Just not me---the country would be in even worse trouble. I would want MORE: love, peace, and bicycle grease.
Anyway, Pat put together a tomato, olive oil, and cheese salad--italiano style. My land, was it good! Then she made kabobs---veggie kabobs on the grill for me and chicken kabobs for everyone else. I left the table so stuffed. It was like a gourmet dinner that she put together like it was a PB&J! This little lady has energy, lemme tell ya!
Pat and Tim have class. Thier home is thoughtfully designed and embellished. Tim is a collector of Native American art and you could see it woven throughout each room in the colors, paintings, sculptures, etc. But they also have a cape cod room---deep blues and whites and stepping into that room makes you feel like you are by the ocean---which you are! The guest room had a big beautiful bed with a white comforter and big, fluffy pillows. I sank into it and thought I was on a cloud.
They have traveled extensively. Tim has a passion for New Mexico and worked for some time in NM with the Mescalero Apaches in the Ruidoso area. He has a killer memory and remembered numerous details of the one conversation he and I had about 20 years ago, when I met him. He has a kind heart and a compassionate soul.
He is also the voice of reason.
When the Kearney passion runs hot and high, Tim can bring things into a gentler place with grace and penache. I think Dr. Plax is incredible. He loves teaching and says his key to success in the classroom is to interweave humor throughout the lectures. He says his gift in the classroom is to act as a standup comic. This is so inspiring. He is a handsome man with thick, curly silver hair; a ready smile; intelligent eyes; and a strong, calm voice. Tim loves his cats and they hover around him for the frequently applied, skilled scratch and rub. Pat shakes her head; her husband is like the Pied Piper for critters. They say that if dogs and cats like a man, he is a GOOD MAN. I think that means she’s got a winner!
The next morning, after goodbyes and hugs, HD and I cycled off to greet Los Angeles. Within 1/4 mile from Pat and TIm’s house, “we” entered the San Gabriel River BikeWay. This great bike and walking path follows the San Gabriel River for several miles. First I cycled next to the industrial zone and then entered what most of LA actually looks like: trees, parks, and flowers. There were cyclists out for the exercise as well as many working people on their bikes heading for their jobs. Women were cycling, jogging, walking dogs, and pushing prams. LA is for the fit of mind and body.
In order to get to my daughter’s house, I had to leave the San Gabriel BikeWay and veer a bit north through Montebello and a number of little burgs and neighborhoods. I went through various cultural sections, including a fascinating section that blended latin and asian cultures. There was a restaurant that specialized in Mexican and Japanese food. I should’ve stopped to check the menu! Sushi tacos? Chile miso soup? Sake margaritas? Tortilla chips and soy sauce? Sounds like stuff I would fix at home. I certainly use Nori seaweed wraps with roasted chile and avocados.
I then dropped down to the Los Angeles River BikeWay. I followed that one for several miles as well. This riverway was really something. Like the heart of LA. Artwork on buildings; trees and bushes in the middle of the wide river; and the people... Every kind. It was really fantastic. In parts of the river, there is a narrow strip of “land”, like a thin island. People were playing in the water, dogs were having fun, and there were the happy “homeless”--camped out in tents, tarps strung from tree limb to tree limb, laundry hanging out to dry on ropes and cords. Telltale grocery carts dotted the landscape---the homeless person’s portable home. I would have loved to talk to some of them---many are shy and stay just a little hidden, but some are friendly. They didn’t look unhappy. Some even looked like healthy young men---camping on the river by choice. I imagined a few college kids out there trying to work, pay tuition, and survive. At one point, a friendly homeless gent by the name of Wayne pointed out “his tree” to me and invited me for a beer. It was great---”see that tree over there? That one is mine. Come have a beer with me anytime”. I thanked him profusely but had a date with my daughter, so I politely declined and resumed cycling.
There are homes and businesses whose backs line the river bike path. I came across a large group of young folks employed by Paramount Pictures. They were down by the river doing company-sponsored volunteer clean-up as well as mural painting! They were given a small section of wall---the back of some business, I believe---that they could paint. It looked like an ocean-themed painting. What fun!
After exiting the Los Angeles River BikeWay, I went through NoHo. This is North Hollywood and it is the old arts district. You can rent an old factory loft like the artists of the previous century did. Murals are everywhere. You can’t cycle through NoHo without seeing that this section of LA is about the artist. There are murals dedicated to previous artists, benefactors, builders, independent filmmakers, etc. There are arts colleges and classes and live shows and music and, well, LIFE! The energy was contagious.
I love LA. You better not say anything negative about this crazy, vibrant town that keeps recreating itself. There are survivors here. To live and thrive here, you have to have chutzpah. And sometimes, a benefactor!
I arrived at my daughter’s house in the late afternoon. She had the garage door open and was standing in the driveway waiting for me. She rents a few rooms of a larger house--it’s like a little apartment. There is a pool in the back yard that she can use but she has probably only been in the pool twice. One of the times occurred when I was here last year for the Viscera Festival, which she created.
If you want to support independent women filmmakers, check out the Viscera Organization. That is my daughter’s baby. I won’t use this blog to talk about women filmmakers, even though I have a lot to say about it. I will leave that conversation to those folks who are more knowledgeable about the film industry. Suffice it to say that I am very proud of my kid and what she is doing.
So, we spent a few days together, but really, she worked all weekend. This was ok, because I had laundry to do, dinner to prepare, and stuff to write. We did get to a coffee shop called Simply Coffee in Burbank and bought a cup just as they closed. We sat outside and worked on our computers until they started stacking the tables and chairs. Then we wandered for a few blocks. The nearby stores feature retro fashions, used clothing (or should I say “recycled fashions”?), furniture, yard art, etc. We popped into an oldtime candy store selling every type of flavored salt water taffy you can imagine. We bought 3 pieces each and shared an old fashioned bottled rootbeer from yesteryear. I felt like I was a child again. It was just enough to satisfy the kid inside. There is a ladies’ night once a month in that downtown area and the stores offer special deals; I understand it is a fun night out for the X chromosome gender.
We went out to eat and boy, did we...
I spent the evening packing, repacking, sorting, and repacking again. We watched the last episode of the Bomb Girls available on the net. Since I was leaving in the morning, this was a bittersweet watching of the show. I won’t be able to see another episode till Netflix gets it next season. The sting of the evening was softened because I would see Shannon again in 2 days when she joined me briefly for a 2 night stay with a good friend of hers in Santa Barbara.
I enjoyed my Los Angeles journey. What’s not to enjoy? Perfect, sunny weather. Art in multiple media everywhere we went. Films at night. Good food. And lotsa love shared with my California Kid.
This adventure has been good!
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