Honey House

On Mission Street in South Pasadena, there's a new store called House of Honey. It looks intriguing...

2009

2009 is the year the Twin Palms closed in Pasadena. 11 years ago, I had my first unofficial "date" with my partner there. When I read a story in one of my many magazines about a couple that wanted to make Christmas extra special by finding things from their past to give, I thought of the Twin Palms because they were closing at the end of November after almost 16 years in business.

My friend, Pamela, and I went immediately to try and get a memento. The hostess, a young woman, was unsympathetic when I told her that I had my first date 11 years ago with my partner there and could I have a matchbook? They don’t have matchbooks anymore. A menu? No. A second host, a young man, was more sympathetic and disappeared in search of something to give me in the back. Pamela and I felt hopeful while listening to Sunday Jazz, but the young man returned empty handed. I’m sorry. There isn’t anything that I could get.

Dejected, I said, how about a napkin? Can you at least use the Twin Palms stamp on a cocktail napkin? He was enthusiastic and grabbed two napkins from the bar and put a faint imprint with the restaurant’s name on it. The ink was just about dried up.

It’s not what I had hoped, but it did remind me of a special night when the friend that I had known for many years stopped talking to me in the middle of the meal and kept staring at me, and I ate a huge pork chop as we fell in love.

I put the napkins in the Christmas stocking this year along with a photo of me in front of the Twin Palms sign at the entrance that Pamela snapped on her cell phone as we left with the two sad napkins.

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.