LA County

Santa Monica was great. Not because I partied with the stars, or because I was discovered in Hollywood. I didn't venture East any further than Westwood; I set my GPS to enable Highways as an avoidance, and kept myself and my Suby far away from the 16-lane insanity that is Los Angeles driving.

No, Santa Monica was great because I could finally relax, in the madness but away from the madness. Mostly, I slept and watched bad television. And that was everything it could be and more! You can easily imagine how fulfilling this would be, after two months of over-stimulated trucking, day in and day out.

Don't I look healthy? I lost a lot of money to a Whole Foods that was just at the end of the block. It was time to splurge... oh man, I ate good. Let's take the time to acknowledge why I was so relaxed, and able to spend money: My wonderful Uncle Jack. He let me stay at his beautiful little apartment off Marine St., and since he was in NYC for the month of November, no one was around to tell me to wake up. It actually would have been awesome if he were there, and could show me his favorite places and all that, but sleep was great too. Thank you Uncle Jack! You rock.

Of course, I did pry myself off the comfortable couch to go see Santa Monica's main street, the Venice Pier, and of course the Venice Boardwalk. Actually, the first day I hit-up the Venice Pier (or maybe they hit me up - $5 for parking...) I'd thought I'd "been to Venice." You had your Surfers, Skateboarders, tourists, and I thought I saw a muscle man on roller blades. More importantly, as I leaned out over the Pier I saw a whole pod of dolphins swim by, about 20 yards away from the nearest surfers. Or maybe they were porpoises...

After some further research online, I discovered that no, no I hadn't been to Venice Beach yet. So, not having anything better to do, and being real curious about the rollerblading-turban-wearing-guitar-player, I set out to see it.

And I'm glad I did, I actually went back for more the next day...

So, the walk down Venice Beach... First, you're accosted by rap-star hopefuls, who play you their CD and are more than willing to accept donations in exchange for their music. Not a huge rap fan, it didn't sound too terrible - no more terrible than what you've got playing on the 'MtV'. Next, you're supposed to get some cheap sunglasses. I really wanted to get me some of them alien-looking peepers, but settled for the more useful polarized pair. On recommendation from a friend, I had purchased a pair of these beauts when I was leaving New York state, but I think they got crushed somewhere on the East Coast and were darn-near useless come the drive West, when the sunsets were their most vicious...

After the cheap sunglasses, you check out the vendors. And you walk. And you walk. And you dodge some more rap-star hopefuls. You read some of the funnier Hobo signs, but mostly you keep your eyes forward. There are street performers, a muscle man who kinda just walks around with a medicine-type ball, and yes, the fellow with the Turban went whizzing by with his guitar blaring. Some of the street performers truly earned their keep:


There was one drum-circle group, with a super-crazy guy waving his arms around and challenging the board-walkers. "Children First, Women Second" he repeated, only the "Children First" part kept getting lost, and for a while I thought he was a sexist jerk.

Guess which one he was?

I ended up sitting down with a group of alright-looking transients and chatting them up. Most of them I figured was just like me - drive out to California, and... well, that's it. Sleep on the beach. A few of these guys had cars, one even had a VW Passat and a blackberry. I was very confused until he explained that he had a PO Box. And a laptop. So he could pay bills.

A Transient paying bills. Wow.

A few of the kids were electricians, getting money whenever they could find jobs (which I'm sure was proving more difficult in this recession). All of them seemed to be there on purpose. The VW Tranny insisted that his own presence there was "by design." I wonder how many trannies this applies to. For all the people who drive to California and never leave, how many end up with steady jobs, and how many would prefer not to? Why tie yourself down to a monthly rent when showers are available on the beach, and you could sleep under the stars every night?

It's certainly not the life for me, but I could certainly understand it.

The sunset that night was amazing; this shot was taken an hour before, then I stowed my equipment and went out for a game of hack-y-sack with the trannies.

Of course, right when I was Kodak-free, the most beautiful of sunsets I'd ever seen hit the water and mountain range behind me. So, like I usually do for missed opportunities, I justified it: that sunset was for me, for then, and that's all, and I'm lucky enough to have caught it in the first place.