Andy Chase

It Only Took 12 Years
Originally uploaded by Usonian

Back in 1998, I became a docent at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ennis House in Los Angeles. I built the first proper web site for the house, and as a token of appreciation I was given this block tile - while not a reproduction of the actual blocks used for construction, it’s a full-size, fully accurate representation of the pattern repeated throughout the house.

This thing has spent the last 12 years leaning in various places - mostly in dusty corners and occasionally on shelves, and I’m quite pleased to finally have a place to hang it.

I’m still obsessed with Wright’s textile block houses. I swear I’m going to build a folly using the technique someday.

We've been living in a fugue for the last couple of weeks... the prospect of packing/selling/throwing away all of our earthly possessions (Which are significantly greater in number than the U-haul trailerful we brought out here with us) is sufficiently daunting that we've put it off in favor of laying around, complaining about the heat, and playing Grand Theft Auto instead of doing serious packing. I put in a few hours at work over the last week, but with the move laying so heavily on my mind I don't want to do the hospital the disservice of wasting my time or theirs if I can't concentrate on the more involved tasks at hand; since I'll be continuing my work once we arrive in Massachusetts, some of those tasks can wait.

Kim and I have both been sleeping funny hours... she's been on an overnight schedule lately anyway, but we've both found ourselves sleeping in half shifts, or getting up for an hour or two here and there only to get back into bed. It's probably the weird sleep patterns contributing to that pervasive sense of unreality more than anything .

We finally started packing in earnest yesterday, starting with the books. We have a number of shelves' worth to pack yet, but we filled enough boxes to feel that we have actually accomplished something. As the saying goes, 'Well begun is half done,' and I think we're in good shape with the seven days we have left to pack. Our worst problem at this point will likely be keeping ourselves supplied with empty boxes, but I think we have enough sources that we won't need to pay somebody for them.

Thinking back six years to the last couple of weeks before we left Rochester, New York for the smoggy climes of southern California, I remember a similar malaise but I don't remember it being nearly this strong. I'm not sure why that is, especially since I hate Los Angeles with a burning passion, and I can't wait until the San Fernando Valley is in the rearview mirror for good. I've tried to be civil and politic for a long time; I know plenty of natives and transplants alike who call greater Los Angeles their home, and there are certainly things I'll miss about Los Angeles, but now that we're really, finally getting out of here I want to shout it from the Hollywood sign. I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate the smog-brown horizon, I hate the triple digit temperatures, I hate the fact that all $250,000 will get you in the shitty parts of town is a run-down, poorly built two bedroom ranch house from the fifties with no attic, no basement, and a lot the size of a postage stamp, and I hate being looked at like I'm some kind of a-hole when we tell people we're moving to Massachusetts. "Why would you want to move there? It's so coooooooold! It snows all year round up there, doesn't it?" People take it personally, almost as though they're annoyed with you for reminding them that there is a whole, giant country east of Las Vegas and north of Santa Barbara that couldn't care less about their Luxury SUV or their Beverly Hills-adjacent condo... and all the only defense they can muster for Los Angeles is the weather.

I had no similar ill will for Rochester, and that's why I'm puzzled at my greater uneasiness. I guess I can chalk it up to six years' experience in "The Real World," and the added responsibility of making sure all of our animals get back with us safely. When all is said and done I know we'll be fine, but I do wish there was a way to bypass the whole packing, loading, and driving part of of the move.

02/09/2002 - San Fernando Road (Near Sheldon) ? Sun Valley, California

The Pink Motel 'motor court'.

02/09/2002 - Heart's Coffee Shop

16918 Saticoy St (at Balboa) • Van Nuys, California

An even sadder place than Johnie's was before it closed, Heart's looks as though it hasn't seen any maintenance at all to its exterior or sign since it opened.

Photographing the sign in its entirety was made difficult due to a couple of factors:

1. A fast food chain who shall remain nameless has erected a sign at the corner of the adjacent lot, blocking half of the Heart's sign to the east.
2. Although it's clear that the rusty heart at the very top of the sign used to rotate, in 2002 it only sways back and forth about 10 degrees in the wind.

16918 Saticoy St (at Balboa)
Van Nuys, California

There’s a bulletin board in the break room at work, upon which people often place little newspaper clippings thought to be of interest to the office population at large… they get changed often, and make for a nice diversion while you’re waiting for the god-awful coffee to brew.

But today the newspaper article (I assume this came from the L.A. Times) was titled something like “What to do When You’re Heading for the Cold”, and it was a whole half-page article about preparing to go outside of Los Angeles to one of those scary places with snow.

Things like, you know, dressing warmly in layers? They spend about three paragraphs telling people in Los Angeles how to dress warmly. Three paragraphs telling grown adults that you need to wear warm clothes when you go out in the cold. The article also recommended taking brief walks at night (When it’s usually a bone-chilling 50 degrees or so in the winter) for a few days before your trip to get yourself “acclimated.”

And then - this was the icing on the cake - they mentioned the risks of hypothermia and frostbite, cautioning that “Even a mild case of frostbite should receive medical attention.”

Do people here really need to be told that? Do people here go up to the mountains and play in the snow until the skin of their fingertips actually crystalizes from the cold, and just go back in for cocoa wondering why they can’t feel anything in their fingers? Serves them right if that’s actually the case.

As detached as I try to remain from the show biz currents that run so strongly through greater L.A., I’m still something of a tourist when it comes to celebrities.I stopped at Robbie Mac’s in Sherman Oaks to pick up a pizza on my way home from work tonight (well, last night, since it’s after midnight now). On my way in I had noticed a beautiful, big old car parked by the new stand at the corner of Ventura and Van Nuys boulevards. I parked behind the building, but walked back around to the news stand to get a closer look, and when I saw Jay Leno (known automobile collector/enthusiast) I cleverly deduced that the car belonged to him.

As I walked by him I said something to the effect of,

“I was wondering who that car belonged to! It’s gorgeous!”

to which Jay replied “Thanks, thanks.”

As detached as I try to remain from the show biz currents that run so strongly through greater L.A., I’m still something of a tourist when it comes to celebrities. I find that it’s a lot easier to talk to one if the context is something other than them being famous and you recognizing them; I didn’t want to bug Jay Leno, but I did genuinely want to compliment him on his car, so it was no big deal.

Similarly, I had a nice conversation with David Caruso a few years ago when he came through the Ennis House for a tour… I was a docent there at the time, and my job that day was to follow along behind the tour groups, making sure nobody wandered off into the house. David Caruso stuck to the rear of the group, and asked me some questions about the house - contrary to public perception and/or reputation, he was a really nice guy. Claire Forlani was also in the group, but I didn’t talk to her.

I’ve seen Gary Collins and R.D. Call at our nearby Ralph’s supermarket multiple times, and once we saw Brian Setzer messing with a hotrod at a gas station in Santa Monica. I’m sure there have been others, but those are the ones that pop into mind at the moment.

Probably my dorkiest celebrity moment was when I approached Joey Ramone at the House of Guitars in Rochester, but he was nice despite my fumbling compliments and thanks for his music. In the four years I spent in Rochester, I only went to H.O.G. once, and that just happened to be the day the Ramones had a show in town - and apparently everybody who’s anybody in the music biz stops by H.O.G. when they’re in town. I’m glad to have met him; it was a shame when he died so relatively young last spring.

12/31/2001 - I was walking the dog last night when I noticed the moon positioned perfectly among a cluster of palm trees - exactly the sort of tableau that Matthew Sweet's song Smog Moon has always conjured up in my mind. Smog Moon is on the 100% Fun album.

I've found that my Olympus D450-Zoom performs admirably in low light, as long as I use a tripod or some other stabilizing device. Still, the moon was shrouded by some light clouds and pretty much the only light source; I had to do some heavy tweaking and the overall image is still pretty grainy. But I like the mood it captures, and it seemed a fitting sort of a photo to take at the end of the year.

From the song:

There's a smog moon coming I can always feel it

The cartoon trees cannot conceal it

When it's high up in the sky, it almost looks like it is white

When it's high up in the sky, it almost looks like...

Lyrics are of course © copyright Matthew Sweet's publishing company, whatever it is. Please don't sue me.

Pico Rivera, California
Next to the Paradise Island Apartments.

Once the initial excitement of finding an actual tiki in the wild wore off, it was sad to see the general disrepair of the building and the whole area in general.

I was amazed a few months later when I found a tiki-themed Hawaiian shirt with an image of this very tiki on it - right down to the slant.

12/30/2001 - Paradise Island
5430 Rosemead Boulevard • Pico Rivera, California

I nearly locked the brakes on my poor car when I spotted this amazing tiki apartment building on Rosemead boulevard. I quickly pulled onto a side street and parked to take some photos.