Last night was one of those humid L.A. summer eves that can easily drive you out of your mind and/or drive you out of your house in search of basic hydration. It was so bad I would have settled for anything liquid be it coffee, juice, a cocktail, water…whatever, just to get away from the cucaracha breeding stickiness of my floors and walls and into an air conditioned cool L.A. social setting. Seeing how I live in an area which has no such establishments catering to these needs I stayed home sweating up a thirst beyond reason. Within minutes I began to pace back and forth like a caged beast out of its natural element all the while pondering the reason for this sudden feeling of being under socioeconomic quarantine. In a city such as Los Angeles, why should I have to get in my car and drive 4 miles to the nearest Starbucks for a cup of coffee; 5 miles to browse a real magazine rack; up to 8 miles for a gin and tonic at a bar with a good selection on the jukebox; 9.6 miles to stock up on my favorite Trader Joe’s items; 10 miles to catch a movie in a theatre that shows independent and foreign films; 10 - 15 miles for dinner at a decent sit down restaurant? The answer is simple I live in Boyle Heights -- a neighborhood which has been stripped of all things which make for convenient living. Being a lifer in the area I have been witness to the removal of all major supermarkets over the years. Nowhere in the area will you find a single coffee shop. Gas stations are dwindled down to just a few. Restaurants are pretty much nonexistent. Lounge bars went out with a trigger happy bang in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Even if I did want to take a walk I’d have to do so in the dark seeing how all street lights running the distance of Whittier Blvd. from the eastern tip of the 6th Street Bridge down to Indiana St. have been blackened out by the powers that be. Maybe I’m just being too impatient. Haven’t I heard that Boyle Heights is being targeted as the new “it” location on the city map? Don’t I know that soon will come the hipster diners and cool coffee hangs with bright colored walls and scones scattered with blueberries. Am I not aware of the change to come? The gentrification on the horizon will be met with a bittersweet welcome. On one hand it would be a relief to be in the midst of a community that makes my life easier but on the other I know that none of the pending changes are being made with me or any of the current residents in mind.
Los Angeles in the 1980's and 90's was a time of multi cultural, multi district, multi sexual orientation creation and collaboration. Art, music, dance, fashion, performance art, theater, graffiti art, murals, indy filmmaking, print media all leaving their mark on the map of this vast LA-LA landscape. These were the pre FundMe days when if you had a project in mind you either applied for an arts grant, found a benefactor or you held fundraisers. A lot of time and effort was donated by artists themselves. There were plenty of arts supporters who gave their time and money as well. Why? Because local arts kept our city authentic and alive with a true sense of how our cultural and ethnic differences were alike in so many ways. That's not to say there weren't outlying areas that didn't wish to participate in the grand scheme of a melting pot theory. They were there in the comfort zones hiding behind curtains and valleys which was just fine for us without a monocultural...
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