Honoring Roger Corman

When we were kids, my sister and I spent most Saturdays at the Cornell, a big ol’ barn of a theater that showed 50-cent double-bills of every Jerry Lewis, Elvis and “Beach Blanket” movie ever made. Even though the Cornell was dank and reaked of stale popcorn, I adored it and fell passionately in love with motion pictures.

One of the most prolific filmmakers of that period was Roger Corman, a master at creating cheap, schlocky fare that entertained a young but growing baby-boomer audience. Among his better known works are Death Race 2000, The Trip, The Raven starring Vincent Price, the original black-and-white Little Shop of Horrors, which was famously made in two days, and, yes, The Wasp Woman. Corman was quickly crowned the “king of the B movies.” But his influence was ultimately far more far-reaching as he inevitably had a hand in training many of my generation’s most renowned actors and directors, including Jack Nicholson, Peter Fonda, Martin Scorsese (Raging Bull), Francis Ford Coppola (The Godfather trilogy), Ron Howard (A Beautiful Mind), Peter Bogdanovich (The Last Picture Show), Curtis Hanson (L.A. Confidential), and Joe Dante (Gremlins). In recognition of his accomplishments, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences gave Corman an honorary Oscar as part of this year’s awards festivities. He was also feted on Friday as part of last week’s L.A. Film Festival (LAFF).

The LAFF event took place at the intimate 200-seat Grammy Museum theater. As usual, we were early and so sat where we could easily watch everyone enter. Our eyes were especially peeled for Jack Nicholson, whom we hoped would show-up to pay homage to his mentor.

Tim was the first to spot someone famous. “There’s Peter Bogdanovich!,” he whispered. He then noticed Peter Fonda standing in the far doorway with Roger Corman.

After a brief film chronicling Corman’s career, all three men took the stage, along with horrormeister Joe Dante and Roger’s business partner and wife Julie Corman. Oscar-winning screenwriter and director Curtis Hanson moderated the conversation.

All four protégés told how they came to work for Corman. Dante started as an editor, creating two-minute trailers for Corman’s vast library of films. This eventually led to him direct Piranha, a low-budget Jaws-type film that was hugely popular on the drive-in circuit in the 1970s. Hanson started as a screenwriter and under Corman’s tutelage went on to direct Sweet Kill about a man who literally loves women to death. Bogdanovich, too, started as a screenwriter after Corman read a couple of his articles in Esquire magazine. He was soon co-directing the motorcycle gang movie The Wild Angels, one of Corman’s biggest hits. Julie Corman told how she reluctantly became Roger’s producer. ("You can manage the money," he told her!) But it was Fonda who really stole the show. Not wanting to become another Disney contract player, he auditioned for Wild Angels and got the lead role when it was discovered his competition, George Chakiris, couldn’t ride a motorcycle. Three years alter, Fonda and Dennis Hopper made the iconic film Easy Rider.

Some of the anecdotes they told were recycled from the documentary Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, which we rewatched a couple of weeks ago after Hopper died. Still, it was wonderful seeing the interaction among the panelists and hearing their stories in-person, all while Corman sat there smiling broadly. Jack Nicholson never did appear, but we had a great time anyway.

L.A. Film Festival

We’ve never been to Sundance or even the Palm Springs International Film Festival, but we do occasionally attend LAFF (the L.A. Film Festival) because it’s close and we like to pretend we’re hip. This year the festival moved to L.A. Live, where Tim works, making it much more convenient than Westwood and UCLA, where it used to be held. In addition, the movies are especially strong this year, so we bought tickets to five events. We’ve gone to three so far.

Like all film festivals, this one has its share of big-name movies (e.g., The Kids Are All Right), but we’re usually more attracted to the off-beat films we might not otherwise see. On Sunday, we saw The Tillman Story, a riveting documentary about the cover-up of former football star Pat Tillman’s death by “friendly fire” in Afghanistan. This was followed on Monday by Waiting for Superman, a powerful documentary about the pathetic state of public education in America. Filmmaker Davis Guggenheim, who also directed the Oscar-winning An Inconvenient Truth, introduced the film. Feedback is encouraged through ballots that are turned in at the end of every screening. We each gave both films the highest rating.

The festival can be quite the scene, depending on the event. Although Monday night’s big movie was a documentary, the paparazzi were out in full force yelling at a redheaded young actress named Jessica (??) as she walked down the red carpet. She wasn’t in the film, but we did see her later in the audience (and still have no idea who she was!).

We returned last night for the L.A. premier of Animal Kingdom, an incredibly intense Australian drama about a psychotic gang of robbers. I was hoping to see Guy Pearce, the film’s most famous actor, but he didn’t show. Instead I had to make do with Ewan McGregor, the young Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Star Wars prequels and the title character of Ghost Writer, one of our favorite movies of the year thus far. He wasn’t in Animal Kingdom, but he did sit in the row ahead of us, so I was thrilled.

I expect the wildest festival event will be tonight’s premier of Eclipse, the latest installment in the Twilight vampire saga. We won’t be there, but we did see hundreds of fans camped out (literally) in the L.A. Live plaza, waiting four days to attend the film’s red carpet festivities. You couldn’t pay me enough money to get within 10 blocks of that zoo tonight!

Next up for us: an interview with film legend Roger Corman (Friday) and Welcome to the Rileys, a drama starring James Gandolfini and Melissa Leo (Sunday). More soon . . .


P.S. You can read about the Corman event above--a wonderful evening! Less wonderful, though, was Welcome to the Rileys, which we saw Sunday afternoon. Gandolfini and Leo were terrific, but the theater was filled to capacity with fans of Kristen Stewart, who plays a young stripper the older couple befriend. More importantly, Stewart is Bella, the female love interest in Twilight; so every time she said anything remotely funny, the audience burst into a fit of giggles. Could I have ever been that silly??

Lakers Parade

In case you don’t follow basketball: the Lakers won the championship Thursday night in a nail-biting (even by my non-fan standards) come-from-behind game. Life has now returned to normal; but first, Tim had to help set-up a remote broadcast from the victory parade through downtown L.A. yesterday morning. He got up at 4:30AM to be there by 5:30AM. I quickly fell back to sleep after he kissed me good-bye. The phone rang two hours later. No surprise: it was Tim.

“Quick! Put on the TV, channel 692. I think I’m on camera!” he whispered excitedly.

I ran to the living room and turned on the satellite. Sure enough, there was my husband walking behind the announcers, who were still deconstructing the game four days later. I burst out laughing and called his cell.

“You’re sticking out like a sore thumb in your white t-shirt!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get out of the way,” he explained. “The producer is madly waving me out of here.”

But there he was again, five minutes later, pretending to lay down some extension cords. Tim never met a TV camera he didn’t like. This went on for several minutes until the phone rang once more.

“Start the tivo so I can see myself when I get home!” he said. And so I hit the record button and headed toward the shower.

Here are a couple of photos I took off the TV. Can you spot the interloper pretending to work behind the announcers?







Oh yeah, the parade was a big success and the broadcast went off without a hitch. Altogether a banner day for my husband.

Sting @ the Hollywood Bowl

As I’ve reported before on this blog, I’ve been a huge Sting fan since the early 1980s. In fact, I like to say that I’ve been in love with Sting longer than I’ve been in love with Tim--which is probably why Tim doesn’t mind buying me Sting tickets just as long as he doesn’t have to go with me to the concerts.

Sting has reinvented himself many times over the past thirty years. Starting as the lead singer for the rock band The Police, his music took a decidedly jazz-pop turn when he struck out on his own in the mid-80s. He’s won two Grammy awards and has received three “best song” Oscar nominations. He’s even appeared in movies (remember the near-naked Feyd Rautha in David Lynch’s Dune?). In 2006, he recorded Songs from the Labyrinth, a CD of Elizabethan tunes, which he performed with lutenist Eden Karamazov, and last year filmed a reading of Twin Spirits, a play about German composer Robert Schumann (Sting) and his composer wife Clara Wieck (Trudie Styler, Sting’s real-life wife). He is currently touring with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, performing symphonic versions of his pop-rock songs. Last night’s Hollywood Bowl concert was sold-out.

Tim was actually going to see Sting with me this time, but had to work at the last minute (damn those Lakers!), so Karen went instead. The concert was scheduled to start at 8PM, so we left the house at 5:30PM. We took the shuttle from Hollywood & Highland, the garish mall half-a-mile south of the Hollywood Bowl. Three radio stations were broadcasting from outside the Bowl: Jack FM (classic & contemporary rock), KLOS (classic rock) and KOST (L.A.’s best-known “soft rock” station). It just goes to show how eclectic Sting’s music is!

Most of the audience seemed to be our age, though some were much younger. One of my former students (in his early 40s) happened to sit two rows in front of us. I was surprised to hear that he and his wife became fans long after Sting left The Police. How old must I be to still be a fan from his Police days? Yikes!

It was light out when the orchestra arrived and started to play. We assumed they might play a few opening numbers before our hero appeared. But, no, after only a handful of notes, Sting came strolling out and sang to jubilant applause.

The Bowl is an enormous venue (18,000 seats) and we were nowhere near the stage. Still, I could tell he was trim and fit. The large video screens, on both sides of the stage, also confirmed that he’s as gorgeous as ever. The best part, though, was his voice, which is still beautiful and strong. Normally I would have cried when he started to sing, but it was daylight and didn’t want to look like a blubbering fool!

The concert was fabulous. Sting sang all my personal favorites and spent a lot of time providing context for many of the songs. He doesn’t usually converse much with the audience, so this was a wonderful treat. He was obviously relaxed and sang for two hours, at one point bringing out trumpet-player and good friend Chris Botti, much to everyone’s happy surprise. The concert ended with “Every Breath You Take,” arguably Sting’s most famous song (but not one of my favorites), followed by three (!!!) encores. His final offering: an acapella rendering of “I Was Brought to My Senses.” Even people who were rushing to beat the traffic stopped to listen. It was a breathtaking ending to a perfect evening.

Hero Complex: Leonard Nimoy

I’ve seen Star Trek’s William Shatner in-person many times, including an up-close-and-personal encounter several years ago in a radio show green room (thanks Tim!). But I’ve only seen his co-star, Leonard Nimoy, three times: (1) at a “grand slam” Star Trek convention celebrating the show's 25th anniversary; (2) at a live reading of the fantasy novel The Lost World; and (3) at the BookExpo America convention two years ago. Shatner has managed to reinvent himself many times since the original TV show ended 42 years ago. Nimoy, however, will forever be Mr. Spock, arguably the most iconic television character of the 1960s.

This weekend the L.A. Times is sponsoring a film festival called “Hero Complex,” featuring well-loved science fiction movies and their directors. Last night was Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (STIV), starring and directed by Leonard Nimoy. The event was sold-out. Luckily I bought my ticket within five minutes of seeing the initial ad in the paper.

The movie started at 7PM. I arrived an hour early and was greeted by a long line already snaking around the theater’s lobby. The audience looked pretty normal for a Star Trek event--I only saw one person in uniform. I checked in, got my wristband and then took my place at the end of the line. The guy in front of me attempted to strike-up a conversation by saying he’d never seen STIV.

I took the bait.

“You’ve never seen Star Trek IV?” I asked incredulously. “How's that even possible?”

“I’m a Star Wars fan,” he explained.

“Well, they’re not mutually exclusive, ya know,” I retorted as patiently as I could.

“I know,” he said proudly, “but my friends are all either Star Trek or Star Wars fans, not both. You must be a trekkie!”

“Since 1966,” I said.

He pondered that bit of news for a while, then asked: “Here’s one for you: Next Generation or classic Trek?” referring to the first two series, which are often compared and debated.

I took a moment to respond. “The Next Generation is my favorite show, but I have great affection for the original series,” I said diplomatically. Obviously I was in no mood to argue the finer points of either show with someone so clueless. We proceeded into the theater in silence.

I own STIV on DVD and have watched it countless times. Still there was something exciting about seeing it on the big screen again, even if the quality wasn’t as good as my digital version at home. The story, which has the crew travelling back to 20th century San Francisco to retrieve a pair of humpback whales that are now extinct on 23rd-century earth, holds up well after all these years. In fact, the movie, which was released in 1986, remains one of my favorite ST films. Even Tim, who jokingly calls it “Star Trek: The Whales,” likes the film and he’s not much of a ST fan.

The audience was very engaged, laughing and clapping at all the right times, especially during the opening credits when all the actors’ names were listed. I was reminded that two cast members, DeForest Kelley (Bones) and James Doohan (Scotty), have already died. But the man of the hour was definitely Nimoy who, after the film ended, made a dramatic entrance at the back of the theater (where I was sitting!) and walked, with escorts, to the front stage. I leapt to my feet as everyone gave him a standing ovation.

Highlights of the interview are available elsewhere, so I won’t bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that Nimoy was terrific, responding thoughtfully to questions posed by L.A. Times columnist Geoff Boucher. Topics ranged everywhere from STIV to the original series to the 2009 ST movie, in which he played Spock for the last time, to his recurring role in the current TV show Fringe. The interview was supposed to last only 45 minutes; but Nimoy waved away the timekeeper and continued the conversation well after an hour. I was most pleased when he admitted he was now very comfortable with his legacy as Mr. Spock--this from the man who infamously wrote a controversial autobiography, I Am Not Spock, in 1975. Before leaving the stage, he admonished us all to “Live Long and Prosper” while flashing the Vulcan hand salute. Many of us returned the salute, while the rest just applauded wildly.

Lakers Press Pass

One of the best reasons to live in Los Angeles is the plethora of renowned sports teams within the city limits: professional, college and (I’m guessing) amateur as well. This is especially important to Tim. But even I—who has no time to follow one team let alone several—would hate to live in a town that doesn’t offer year-round sports. Right now, the focus is on the Lakers as they play Boston for the national basketball championship. Tim’s radio station broadcasts the Lakers, so not only has he been able to see some games in-person, he’s also seen many of the celebrity fans who sit courtside during those games. I asked him to write a blog entry about his most recent Laker adventures. Here’s what he had to say:

I work at the local station that carries the Lakers. All season I've had a press pass that would allow me to go to any of the games. I only started using it once the playoffs began. Since I don’t have a specific function for the broadcast, there is no assigned seat in the arena for me. So, like all the other orphans (radio stringers, foreign journos, hangers-on) I head up, way up, to what's called the “hockey press box.” It's higher up than the cheapest seats in the last row of the arena. At least we get to sit between the baskets. There’s plenty of room to stretch out and read the newspaper, plus there’s a counter to lean on if I’m inclined to watch the game. The best part is an uncrowded restroom with no lines.

My first game was amazing. During halftime one of our broadcasters told me to go with him downstairs. We first went to the Chick Hearn Media Room, where I saw TJ Simers & Bill Plashke from the L.A. Times and many of the TV sports guys from the local L.A. stations. He then took me out on the floor of the arena. The press pass was like a golden key; you waved it and people said, “Come on in!” We walked by Jack Nicholson, Dyan Cannon and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

“There’s Andy Garcia,” I said to myself. “And Teri Hatcher!” I also saw Jeffrey Katzenberg and Steven Spielberg. My head was spinning, but I, of course, played it cool like the SoCal native I am.

I called Cindy from the floor and told her everybody I'd seen. She only cared about Andy Garcia.

Back to the media room for one last run through, then up to the hockey press box for the second half. I stopped to get a beer on the way back. Unfortunately, the press pass gets you nothing at the concession stand but a blank stare and a cashier saying, “One beer, $12.”

To our radio station's delight, the Lakers made it to the NBA finals. Suddenly my all-access pass was worthless.

“Only the NBA can issue credentials for the finals,” I was told. “Sorry!”

This was particularly distressing because the Lakers are playing their longtime rivals, the Boston Celtics. There had to be something I could do . . .

My boss came to the rescue. He requested passes in case there was some glitch with the broadcast that we needed to fix. The team has played 41 home games this season, plus the first 3 rounds of the playoffs, and not once have we needed to rush over and save the day with technical daring-do. But it does allow me to roam up above the 300 level and find a place to sit. I passed on the first game and set my sights on Game 2 today.

During the playoffs the station does a remote broadcast before each home game. Our broadcast booth, which I usually set-up, is in front of the Staples Center, near Magic Johnson’s statue. All the swells have to pass by our location to get to their VIP entrance. I’m always surprised to see the many obviously wealthy men, middle-aged and older, bring their very beautiful daughters and, in some cases, granddaughters to enjoy the game (wink wink, nudge nudge).

The Lakers easily won Game 1 on Thursday. I'm hoping they continue their good play today. You can find me in my favorite seat at the top of the arena. I’ll be the one watching the game through binoculars.

POSTSCRIPT:

Tim just got home. The Lakers lost, but he got some good photos, including one of former Laker Rick Fox (handsome!), and a short movie of the action (click on it to make it go).

The Envelope: Parenthood

Ballots to nominate TV shows for Emmy awards were apparently mailed yesterday. Of course, Tim and I don’t work in television and so don’t get to vote. But we do have strong opinions about our favorite TV shows.

One such show is Parenthood, the terrific new series on NBC. Based loosely on the 1989 movie of the same name, Parenthood is about the Bravermans, a fictional yet realistic contemporary family grappling with many of today’s societal issues--impending bankruptcy, parental infidelity, interracial relationships, teenage sexuality, autism--but without the melodrama of other family-oriented shows like, say, Brothers and Sisters. The acting is superb and the writing truly topnotch. There’s not enough action to hold Tim’s attention, but I love the show--especially the characters, who really resonate with me even though we (thank goodness!) don’t have to deal with the same problems they deal with every week.

To highlight superior but less popular shows that might otherwise be ignored by Emmy voters, the L.A. Times conducts a “Primetime Emmy Envelope Screening Series” every year at a local theater. The format is similar to the annual Paley Festival, which we religiously attend: an episode of a particular TV show is screened, followed by Q&A with that show’s creative team (e.g., actors, producers, writers, directors, etc.). Unlike the Paley, however, the L.A. Times events are free, though it’s fairly obvious the series is primarily meant to promote The Envelope, the ads-heavy insert published by the Times only during Emmy and Oscar seasons.

I saw the blurb announcing this year’s Envelope series in the paper last week. Three of our shows--Parenthood, Sons of Anarchy, and Justified--were featured, so I quickly signed us up. I received an email yesterday reminding me that Parenthood was being screened last night. According to the email, guild members (i.e., Emmy voters) would be seated first. If seats remained, then non-guild members would be admitted. The theater was in Hollywood--quite a schlep from Culver City on a weekday evening, during rush hour no less! Still, I decided it was worth the effort. I left the house at 5:15PM for a 7:30PM screening.

I arrived at the theater a little after 6PM. There was a line, but nothing too onerous. I checked in at the promotions table and was told all non-guild people would be admitted in a while. After only a couple of minutes, the line started to move. I was inside the theater by 6:30PM. Apparently not many guild members had registered--a shame, because Parenthood really does deserve to be nominated for several Emmys.

The final episode of the season was screened at 7:30PM. It was one of the show’s better episodes, so I hoped the guild voters took note. The producer, Jason Katims, and four cast members--Peter Krause, Lauren Graham, Monica Potter, and Erika Christensen--then appeared. The moderator, L.A. Times TV critic Mary McNamara, asked how the show was developed and whether any of the actors had families similar to the Bravermans. Krause said he does--that’s why he now lives in L.A., where he can forge his own identity. Christensen and Graham spoke with obvious affection for their characters and Potter insisted she just recites her lines, though we probably all suspected that isn’t true. Both Katims and Potter shared the pain of shooting the scenes about her TV son Max’s autism and alluded to the fact that Katims has a family member with Asperger Syndrome. McNamara asked Christensen if she swims--an important plot point in one of the more interesting episodes--she does not. Katims then talked briefly about the writing process. Apparently the scripts are rather organic, based a lot on each actor’s skills and inner voice. All the panelists were intelligent and passionate about the show--well worth the schlep to Hollywood on a Tuesday night.

Stay tuned for Sons of Anarchy and Justified next week . . .

Culver City Car Show

Tim and I love cars from the ‘40s, ‘50s, and ‘60s. So naturally we look forward to Culver City’s annual car show, which always happens the day before Mother’s Day. The weather today was perfect and the cars exceptional. See for yourself:























Can you find me in the picture? (Hint: click to make bigger.)

Obama in L.A.

A couple weeks ago, I got an email announcing that president Obama would be keynoting a fundraiser on April 19 (yesterday) for senator Barbara Boxer, who is running for reelection this year. The event was taking place at the California Science Center just south of downtown L.A.

Now, I’d seen Obama speak before at the 2005 American Library Association conference in Chicago, a year after his galvanizing speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. More than a few of my colleagues predicted then that he’d run for president in 2008.

But I, of course, hadn’t seen him speak yet as president. So I immediately bought a ticket. Tim was working, so I was on my own.

On Sunday, I got another email detailing event logistics. I was to enter the parking lot at 39th and Figueroa and then follow the crowds to the Science Center. Protesters were already demonstrating by the time I got there, but I was so intent on following the directions that I didn’t pay any attention to their shenanigans. When I emerged from the parking lot, hundreds of people were already queued up. The email had suggested “business or business casual” as appropriate attire.

“Boy, if nothing else, Democrats certainly are a handsome lot,” I thought to myself as I admired men in their pinstripe suits and several women in what looked like cocktail dresses. Obviously many of them had paid the $17,000-a-plate cost for eating dinner with the president that evening--a price tag far too rich for me, so I was way underdressed.

Although people seemed perfectly happy to wait on line, there was lots of confusion over exactly which line we should be waiting in. The man directly behind me asked if this was the V.I.P. line. Wondering if I was considered a V.I.P., I told him how much I paid for my ticket. He then showed me his, which had cost ten times more than mine. He was far more a V.I.P. than I was! I told him I’d save his place in line if he wanted to go ask someone. Turns out, we all--except former governor Gray Davis, whom we saw glad-handing folks as he bypassed everyone on his way to the head of the line--had to stand on line according to the first initial of our last names. A-L to the left and M-Z to the right. Mr. V.I.P. pointed out basketball great Elgin Baylor and his family standing toward the end of the A-L line.

After about 45 minutes, we finally approached the first rung of security. Names checked-off, we were then directed to tables where we showed our “valid government-issued I.D.s” and got our hands stamped. We then proceeded through metal detectors as our belongings were inspected and cleared. Next stop: up the stairs to the Wallis Annenberg building, where the event was being held. V.I.P.s went to the right, while the rest of us veered left. I had assumed we would be in some sort of auditorium where we’d be seated the entire time. But no. Although V.I.P.s got to sit at tables on folding chairs, the majority of us had to stand. By the time the event finally got underway, several fancy-dressed women had removed their beautiful high-heeled shoes. I may have been underdressed, but at least I was comfortable!

The venue was odd: an open hangar-like area with a small, shallow pool in the middle. The podium, which I couldn’t see at first through all the V.I.P.s, was projected onto a medium-sized screen at the front of the hall. To the right was the podium, not too far from where I stood. People were noshing on hors d’oeuvre (meatball sliders--gag!) and drinking wine (open bar), so I quickly planted myself within clear view of the microphones. After a few minutes, a man came out to address the crowd. First up: vocalist India Arie, whose voice was lovely, but inaudible. Between the horrible acoustics and people yelling, it was impossible to hear anything.

Democratic party chair Tim Kaine then introduced Barbara Boxer and the excitement really began. We cheered everything she said--even if we couldn’t hear!--but it was no secret why we were all there. Within minutes, Boxer stopped talking and suddenly Obama appeared. The crowd went wild as I held back my tears. It was wonderful just being in the room with him.

The acoustics continued to be bad, plus there was an annoying heckler who kept yelling about repealing “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Still, we were all thrilled to be there in Obama's presence and encouraged him with our cheers. I clapped loudest when he talked about education and healthcare. (Click here for a transcript of his entire speech). I was especially pleased when he briefly mentioned the importance of science, so wrongfully maligned during the dark ages of the Bush administration.

I moved toward the door as soon as Obama started to wrap-up. Despite sore feet (“If I would have known I was going to have to stand for four hours, I would have worn comfortable shoes,” one man commented), everyone was jubilant.

“I’m happy we came,” a woman cheerfully said to her husband, “even if we couldn’t hear everything he said!”

Other people were looking forward to dinner with the president in a building nearby.

“See you there!” two lucky men yelled as they parted ways.

I zoomed to the parking lot, hoping to beat traffic.

Garden Tour

One of the first things I did, when deciding whether or not to landscape the house, was go on the Theodore Payne Foundation’s annual spring garden tour. Located on the north side of The Valley, the Foundation is a natural preserve that grows, promotes and sells drought-resistant California native plants. The tour features homes throughout the county and is a fun way to educate folks about the joys of going native. I was completely inspired and swore that if our yards ever looked half as good as the ones I saw, I’d ask to be part of the tour.

Two-and-a-half-years later, I applied to have our house included on the 2010 tour. The application--a multipage questionnaire--not only asked which plants we have (tour homes must have at least 50% California natives), but also our gardening philosophy, how often we water our plants, which animals (birds, bugs, etc.) visit our yards, how we discard cuttings (we recycle), etc. I also sent photographs of the yards from the previous spring.

Several weeks later, the tour coordinator paid a visit to see our gardens firsthand. Although we had worked our butts off getting everything ready, the front yard was clearly a disappointment, with its abundant hawthorne bushes, star jasmine, euphorbia, and flax (all non-natives). But she loved the backyard, which far exceeded the 50% rule, especially since most of the plants there were purchased at Theodore Payne. Two months later I received an email congratulating us on being invited onto the tour. Now the real work work began!

For weeks on end, we spent hours and hours and hours weeding both yards and pruning unwieldy wildflowers and plants. We bought and spray-painted a metal bench for the backyard and were thrilled when our agave started to grow an enormous 15-foot stalk. We held our collective breath in hopes it would bloom in time for the show.

Finally the big weekend arrived: 50 houses over two days. For a small fee, aficionados got a tour booklet listing addresses and descriptions of the featured gardens. It was then up to them to decide which homes they visited. Our house was open 10AM-4PM on Saturday.

I woke-up that morning at 4AM. Tim got up an hour later. Too dark to go out into the yards, he decided to pull together a “before-and-after” slideshow, which we showed on our old computer (everyone loved it!). I organized the garage. As soon as it got light, I did one last round of weed-pulling, sweeping, etc. Tim put up the umbrellas, while I got the water and cookies ready. Our first customers arrived at 10:05AM and pretty much didn’t stop until 4:30PM.

The star of the show was, of course, the agave, which had indeed started to bloom the week before. People gasped in joy as soon as they walked through our gate.

They also loved our dramatic dendromecon (i.e., Catalina Island Bush Poppy), western redbud tree, and glorious wildflowers. At least one person had a Kodak moment as a friend took her picture sitting on our red metal bench. Several visitors said they wanted to move into our house and a professional photographer asked if he could feature our yard in a magazine about drought-tolerant plants. (We’ll see!) The garage was a big hit, too. No doubt the guys at Garage Envy, who remodeled ours, will soon be getting calls for an estimate.

In all, over a hundred people--including friends and neighbors--stopped by to see our gardens this weekend. It was a wonderful, WONDERFUL day. And though we were exhausted by the end, we can’t wait to do it all over again next year.

Happy Spring!

Up with Downey

One of our favorite L.A. personalities is Charles Phoenix, the self-proclaimed “histo-tainer” who makes local history fun and entertaining (hence the sobriquet “histo-tainer”). Charles collects and shows other people’s retro photographic slides, plus leads fascinating tours of mid-century L.A. landmarks. We think he’s just wonderful!

On Saturday, Charles led his first tour of Downey, “America’s greatest space age suburban city.” I worked in Downey for a year in the mid-1990s, so knew a little about the town. But nothing prepared us for the sights we were about to experience on Charles’s “Up with Downey” tour.

Our first stop was Bob’s Big Boy, a recently refurbished coffee shop with drive-in service and a real 1950s feel. Originally Harvey’s Broiler and then Johnnie’s, the restaurant was illegally demolished a few years ago when the building and its parking lot served as a used car lot. Luckily, enough of the structure was saved that the current owner was able to rebuild it as a fabulous new Bob’s. We do love our Big Boy!

From there, we all piled into an orange school bus and visited the Downey Historical Society as well as the city’s oldest house (ca. 1886). We next toured the remains of the Los Angeles County’s “Poor Farm,” where the destitute helped grow provisions for several other county facilities, and the abandoned old Rancho Los Amigos Rehabilitation Center, where polio victims lived and convalesced during the first half of the 20th century. Here we sampled the Rancho’s famous “prune bread,” which apparently was a huge bestseller during the early 1900s. I was careful to eat only the bread portion, but Tim ate prunes and all (ack!).

Our next stop was the barn where the Downey Rose Float Association creates its magic every year for the Pasadena Rose Parade. Tim was mesmerized by the float mechanics, but I thought the thing looked like a gigantic mattress boxspring and so waited outside while everyone else oohed and aahed over next year’s design.

We took a quick stop at Beach market--a complete throwback to the “supermarkets” of our youth--before making our way to one of Downey’s main bedroom communities. Perhaps the most famous of the city’s former residents are pop-singers Richard and Karen Carpenter, who lived and owned property in Downey. We not only saw the house where Karen Carpenter grew-up and (sad to say) eventually died, but also the twin apartments she and her brother bought with their first royalties. Fittingly, they named the buildings after their first pop hits: “Close to You” and “Only Just Begun.”






A major coup for the Downey Historical Society was helping save the world’s oldest McDonald’s restaurant from the wrecking ball over ten years ago. Naturally we had to pay our respects. Tim and I resisted the urge to eat, but did enjoy the small McDonald’s museum right next door. We also adored our paper chef’s hats, decorated with McDonald’s vintage mascot, Speedee. Thank you, Charles!





As terrific as everything else was, Charles truly saved the best for last: the former North American Aviation plant, where the Apollo command modules were built during the 1960s and ‘70s. Now I am not a space fanatic, but I am extremely nostalgic about the Apollo missions and space exploration of my youth. Therefore, I was almost overcome when we got off the bus and walked behind a chain-link fence to view (and touch!) not one, but two (!!) life-sized command module “templates” (i.e., mockups) that were used to test various Apollo functions. We then visited the archives of the onsite Aerospace Legacy Foundation, which seeks to preserve L.A’s aviation heritage. It was the perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful day.

Portland, OR

I had a conference in Portland last week, so Tim and I flew up for an extremely short two-and-a-half days. We spent a lot of time with colleagues, mostly eating and slogging around in the cold rain. Instead of boring you with those details, I'm posting below my pre-blog journal entry about the much more interesting trip we took to Portland back in June 2006.

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Tim and I had a couple of Alaska Airline tickets that were about to expire, so we decided to take a quick trip up to Portland, OR. I had been there twice on business, but he had never been. So we reserved a room at the Westin and flew up on Friday, not really knowing what to expect. We ended up spending a delightful weekend filled with many happy surprises.

Our first surprise was the light-rail. I had a vague memory of riding a trolley around town during one of my previous visits, but did not remember taking it from the airport. Yet, sure enough, there it was waiting for us as we exited the terminal. For $1.95 each, we had a relaxing ride while passing logging trucks and a handful of cars zooming down the highway. Forty-five minutes later, we got off and walked two blocks to our hotel. What a nice introduction to the city!

At check-in, the friendly receptionist asked if we were in town for the annual Rose Festival, which was happening that weekend. Now I had heard of the festival--Portland’s one true claim to fame--but had no idea we were landing right in the middle of it, so this was the second of our pleasant surprises. Not only was the annual “Starlight Parade” happening on Saturday, but fireworks were being launched that very night! Plus, as guests of the Westin, we got free admission into the Waterfront Festival, a fair that stretched along the Willamette River. Our weekend was suddenly filled with things to do!

The Westin is near Powell’s City of Books, one of the places I definitely wanted to visit. So we dropped our bags in the room and headed north three blocks to literally the largest bookstore in the country. I had spent several glorious hours there on my previous trips, but Tim was clueless, so I warned him to “prepare to be amazed.” Powell’s is a booklover’s paradise, with hundreds of thousands of new and used books lining the shelves according to general subject area. The main store takes up an entire street block and is at least four stories. I had my eye on the fantasy/science fiction section, while Tim wandered around. I told him to come find me when he was done. I then proceeded to scan through the authors whose last names begin with A. An hour-and-a-half later, Tim returned to find me perusing books written by authors with the last initial J! I still had half an alphabet to go! But I managed to tear myself away. We then spent another half-hour distracting ourselves in other parts of the store. I left empty-handed, but Tim succumbed. Pleasant surprise #3: no sales tax in Oregon!

We then walked around the neighborhood. By now, it was 5PM and antiwar protesters (mostly people our age) had gathered at Pioneer Courthouse Square, a large public meeting place in the heart of downtown. Later we saw animal rights activists picketing the Nordstrom across the street. Who knew Portlanders were so political? (Yet another happy surprise!)

The fireworks were still two hours away, so around 8PM we decided to walk over to the Waterfront Festival, located about eight blocks from the hotel. We could easily find our way because it was still light outside! The festival was a bit of a disappointment--more county fair than “festival”--still we enjoyed ourselves, watching families and young lovers gleefully board the ferris-wheel and other carnival rides. We ate ice cream, followed by strawberry shortcake, and then decided to find a place to watch the fireworks. The fireworks themselves were nothing spectacular--Disneyland puts on a far better display every week--but the crowd was thrilled and I must say that I've never seen a fireworks show I didn’t like. We happily collapsed in our “heavenly” Westin bed by 11PM.

The next morning, we took the light-rail, which is free in the downtown area, to Skidmore Fountain, where the weekly “Saturday Market” is held. A complete throwback to the ‘70s, the marketplace was filled with former hippies hawking handmade candles, tie-dye t-shirts, and bongs. We wandered around a bit and then headed back downtown. Tim returned to the hotel for a nap, while I made my way (once again!) to Powell’s, where I continued through the rest of the SF/fantasy alphabet. Two hours later, I emerged with two books in hand and stars in my eyes. I was content.

Before we even left L.A., Tim read that Burgerville--a Pacific Northwest fast-food chain that serves only locally-grown beef--offers one of the best hamburgers in the US. Armed with this info, we began our quest for lunch. Turns out there’s a Burgerville a block from the convention center, so we hopped the light-rail again and headed north. After waiting on line with a large group of hungry conventioneers--apparently everyone knows about Burgerville!--we placed our order and took a seat. The crispy chicken sandwich was good (B+) and Tim’s burger was worth the train ride over. Our own beloved Fat Burger still rules, however!

With several hours to go before the parade, we decided to walk around town to see if crowds were starting to gather. We had read in the newspaper that people reserve street and sidewalk space hours before the parade and, sure enough, all along the parade route were squares outlined in masking tape or chalk with family names scribbled inside. Some had even left plastic chairs behind to reserve their spot--a risk that no one would ever take in Los Angeles!

We could see the start of the parade route from our hotel window, so we ran over there once the “floats” started to arrive. Surprisingly, no one stopped us as we went from one group to the next, snapping photos and generally marveling at the parade participants. Here was Calamity Jane’s Hamburger Parlour’s float sitting close to the Beaterville Cafe Beater Car Club Band float. Southwest Airlines (the parade sponsor) also had a float, as did many other local businesses and groups, including the Navy, the Coast Guard, and the Portland Rescue Mission. We saw lots of young women dressed in prom gowns, getting ready to take their places atop the Portland Rose Association and Columbia River Yachting Association floats. We also spied a group of senior-citizen square dancers wolfing down fried chicken before their float rolled. We laughed at all the people patiently waiting curbside for the festivities to begin when we had already seen everything there was to see!

Still, at around 9PM, we ran down to the corner (half a block from the hotel) when we heard the crowd begin to cheer. Spirits remained high even after it started to rain. My favorite parade participants were the Greyhound Pets of America float--dogs and their owners sitting inside a covered flatbed truck--and the Cloud City Garrison, a contingent of science fiction geeks dressed as their favorite Star Wars characters. At one point Tim whispered to me, “This is as bad as the old Canoga Park Memorial Day parade of our childhood.” Yet there we were, grinning from ear to ear, standing in the drizzling rain.

We left Portland the next morning, but are determined to return again to see what other surprises might lie ahead.

March Madness

As often happens, we’ve been having so much fun this month that I haven’t had time to write about it. Here are some highlights. . .

PaleyFest: Like they have every year since 1983, the Paley Center for Media held its 10-day PaleyFest, celebrating the best and most popular shows on television. And just like we’ve done almost every year since 1983, Tim, Karen and I attended several events, including: Modern Family (ABC’s hit sitcom about three distinct yet interrelated L.A. families)--the love among the actors was palpable (a wonderful evening); FlashForward (the SF thriller where everyone in the world sees his/her future during a 2-minute blackout)--love the show, but not so much the cast (lots of science, but no chemistry!); Men of a Certain Age (about three 50-something guys who’ve known each other since college)--Ray Romano had a death in the family and so wasn’t there, but Scott Bakula and André Braugher were terrific (can’t wait for season 2!); and Curb Your Enthusiasm (the insane ramblings of Seinfeld producer Larry David)--absolutely hysterical.

As if that wasn’t enough, the Paley honored the detective show Castle, starring the ever adorable Nathan Fillion, the following week. “I think everyone is here to see Nathan,” an older woman (i.e., older than me) whispered in the ladies room. “Well, that’s why I’m here!” I announced, declining to mention that I’d seen him several times already in other venues. Fans even flew in from Australia! Nathan and the rest of the cast did not disappoint.

Bob Newhart: And speaking of TV celebrities, the ageless Bob Newhart was interviewed at the Grammy Museum, March 9th. His first comedy album, The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart, won Grammy’s album of the year in 1960. The sold-out crowd hung on his every word. Newhart was witty, fascinating and still highly entertaining.

Plays: One of my all-time favorite TV shows is The West Wing, the dramatic series about a fictional Democratic president, Jed Bartlet, played by Martin Sheen. I was such a huge fan of the show that one of students gave me a bumper sticker, “Martin Sheen is my President,” which I proudly displayed in my office during the Bush years. No surprise then that I immediately bought tickets when I heard Sheen was going to star in The Subject Was Roses at the Mark Taper Forum. He and costar Frances Conroy (the mom on the HBO series Six Feet Under) were wonderful. But even more exciting was Brian Geraghty, who starred in The Hurt Locker, Oscar’s best picture of the year. Every time the camera panned over to Geraghty during the ceremony, I felt so proud after seeing him just the night before at the Taper. Ya gotta love theater in L.A.

I also saw the musical Dreamgirls at the Ahmanson, last weekend, as part of my season tickets. Tim didn’t want to go, so I went alone. “If I don’t like it, I’ll come home at intermission,” I told him as I left the house. But there was no way in hell I was leaving the theater after Effie’s big number, “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,” one of the greatest torch songs in American theater history. My seat companions (complete strangers) and I were hootin’ and hollerin’. If the production of Dreamgirls, starring Moya Angela, comes your way, rush out and buy a ticket, even if you have to see the play by yourself!

UCSB: Karen and I spent all day Saturday visiting old haunts as part of the Society of Architectural Historians’ tour of UC Santa Barbara, where we met and both went to college. I warned Karen I might get creeped out reliving the past. But the campus had changed so much, I barely felt a twinge. Although we had fun, we were both discouraged by all the disparate architectural styles that now define our alma mater.

Up next: Portland, OR, and a local tour of the city of Downey, where the Apollo spacecraft were built. So stay tuned!