In Passing

Metro still runs buses along millionaire’s row, East Mariposa street, but the tram line headed for the base of the Rubio canyon funicular has been paved over, a familiar LA story. A few landmarks remain, among other imposing properties, the Rand McNally House, the Zane Grey Estate, the Altadena library, the Waldorf school. A film crew tows and films a ‘moving’ red pickup, flanked by police cars, another familiar LA story.

Turn left on Fair Oaks, across the liquor store parking lot, Abounding Grace Ministeries and the Altadena Church of Christ, then a few steps south, Hillside Voz de Esperanza; La Venezia court leads almost directly to the Pizza of Venice pizzeria. Where else but Altadena? reads the bus bench ad.

West on Ventura, the Charles White park, named after the painter just recently celebrated in Museums all over LA–nice to name places after local artists–and although the site isn’t exactly memorable, it does boast a detailed fitness panel, including a chart that tells me my BMI is 29. Walk faster.

Sheriffs hang out at the entrance to Franklin elementary, an all too common sight and sign of the times. A man–musician?–carries a sitar case to his car. Toy trucks parked along Ventura, dead end at the Arroyo Seco, where a constant flow of semis haul away dirt from the Devil’s gate reservoir, destroying a wildlife habitat itself a result of damming the Arroyo, which was done to prevent floods that swept away houses built too close to the water in the first place. A human story.

Crossing over the heavily fenced ”suicide bridge”, looking for a path to descend into the arroyo. On the west bank of the arroyo, tucked in the shade of small scrub oak, a homeless encampment–another LA story–towered over by the Batman Mansion.

Defenders Parkway, traverses Defenders Park, ending at Orange Grove, where Pasadena was founded, where the founders ‘picked out their lots’, home to plaques honoring Founders and Veterans, and the statue–“Enduring Heroes”–of an unarmed, ungeared, soldier walking and waving a flag at the Elks Lodge across the street.

I salute another statue, Rodin’s “The Thinker”, less that a block away, hovering over passers by on Colorado who’ve just left the Norton Simon Museum.