Brr dyslexic

I have to say that being dyslexic is a drag sometimes. I don't know how to sell "brr" and had to stop writing a post in order to look it up on the internet. But, the good news is WE HAVE THE INTERNET and I can spend the couple of seconds it takes to look up anything that I need to spell. The drag part is that it's all the time.

What I started to write about was LA in winter. It can be 55 degrees and feel warm on one day and 55 degrees and be chilly on another. Today it's chilly. I even came back from walking my dog to change my jacket to a coat. I'm not complaining about a cold 55 degrees because it feels wonderful as long as you're wearing the proper clothes.

Shroomery

The thing about mushrooms is that when they appear above ground, it's just one tiny part of a vast organism that lives beneath the surface. In LA, it's rare to see a mushroom this large. Mostly because it's so dry that most of the year there's not enough moisture to get a mushroom going, but in the Fall when there has been even a little rain, the occasional hearty mushroom will bloom.

Car Talk

I used to get worked up over drivers talking on their cell phones. Every time someone stopped acting like the experienced person behind the wheel I’m used to in Los Angeles because we drive so bloody much, I’d go through the five stages of grief, starting with denial.

They are NOT talking on their phone!

On schedule, I’d move to anger.

What a thoughtless jerk!

Next, the comfy stage of bargaining.

If you would just move to the slow lane when your phone rings, I wouldn’t have to hate you.

The fourth stage, depression, is the hardest to take.

The world is going to hell in a hand basket. Civility is a thing of the past.

But, now I’ve matured. I’ve reached the nirvana of the last and final stage: acceptance. I recognize it. Now that people-driving-while-chatting-on-cell-phones has a groove in my neurons, I don’t mind the languid way they drive, slowing from 70 to 50 for what seems like no reason. Or the way they turn their blinker on for 10 minutes before they change lanes. It’s a recognizable phenom, a known quantity.

And, sometimes, now I’m the person on the cell phone.

Los Angeles Dreaming

Eagle Rock

It happened at the same time, but a day apart. Driving on the 134 East looking at the town of Eagle Rock stretched to the South, I felt as if I were the first and only person to see this view. The first to see that exact configuration of lights in the houses and businesses, the street lights, stop lights, green lights, and yellow flashing lights. The children growing, dogs walking, couples shopping, cats eating. I had never felt as if I were the first person to see anything. But, the afternoon before that day, while driving on the same freeway in the late afternoon, I saw it.

The town of Eagle Rock is named after a huge bolder with the profile of an eagle's beak. I've driven by it for years. But that day, I drove around the slopes of the San Gabriel Mountain in the late afternoon and saw the shadow under the eagle's wings as it soared from the rock, its beak pointing toward the sky. Why the eagle took so long to show itself to me is a mystery, but I've been the only person on earth to see many things since that day.

Pee Jag

As long as I'm on a pee jag, here's a story about Susan. Susan had been a singer in Chicago, a talented and ambitious girl, she decided to move to the Big Show, Los Angeles. There were lots of talented and ambitious singers in LA, so after singing the circuit, Susan became a booker on talk shows. Like a lot of people in LA, a second career was born. I met Susan on a variety show. She was single and lookin'.
During the show, Susan met a guy named Everett. He was a has-been writer in need of a second career but found Susan instead. He moved in to her house. He took. She gave. It's classic.

Susan would say, "Everett's such a talented writer. People won't give him a chance." It was like listening to a mother straining to convince you that it's a blessing to have a difficult child.

Susan couldn't see that she was the prize and this guy was using her. But having a man on her arm seemed enough.

For Everett, things turned out dandy. Susan's talk him up and, with her connections, got him a writing job and he pomptly left her.

One day shortly after the breakup Susan and I were having lunch at Hugo's in West Hollywood. Susan said that she had no regrets and, in fact, Everett had left her with one valuable lesson.

"Everett taught me to pee in the shower."

"What?" I said.

"Men do it all the time," said Susan. "It's a wonderful, freeing feeling."

"I think being free of Everett is the wonderful feeling," I said.

Showering the next morning, I thought about it. It's hard to do because girl muscles are trained to let go only when you're sitting down. But I tried. You know, it is a freeing feeling.

And Susan? She has a tiny dog on her arm now and is living happily ever after...with Hunter.

Threadless Debacle

So, my friend Barbara and I were at Cheetah in El Ah for lunch. They have crayons and butcher paper table clothes for the hipster crowd. We doodled and chatted until we realized that everyone had been served but us. The waitress lost our order. With high caffeine levels and low blood sugar, we drew Cadoodler and Zorg. Barbara's an art director so she took the butcher paper drawings and made digital files adding flourishes. I tried to submit them to Threadless, the designer-centric t-shirt site, but it wouldn't take the files. I'm only posting my creature because Barbara's is super cute and I need the head's start. What do you think? Cute? Worth the $2000 prize for the best design on Threadless?