LAPD Blue

So, last Friday, I'm on my 5-mile walk route, same as any other every other day. These days, although we've had a mild summer, I still prefer to do my walking at dusk, so it's not too hot, not too cold. Anyway, last Friday's walk was completely uneventful and non-descript at first. However, about 10 minutes after reaching the halfway point and turning around, although ears deep in Public Enemy, I nonetheless spotted some type of goings on up ahead. Namely, the westbound side of Santa Monica was all of a sudden shut down, but more curiously, I see several blocks worth of pedestrians all standing still, facing forward in the same direction, like it was a crowd scene for a Jerry Bruckheimer film, or one of those Verizon, "Can you hear me now?" spots. Begrudingly, I temporarily interrupt, "She Watch Channel Zero," so as to see what was up.
Much to my surprise, I see some sort of police stand-off outside of the Starbucks. As I got within a block or two, I hear the female police officer over the loudspeaker saying, "Come out of the Starbucks single file, with your hands on your head, and turn left." My first instinct was, "Huzzah! The Starbucks set is finally getting their comeuppance for years of spending $5.00 on a friggin' cup of coffee." (give me the 75-cent, street vendor variety any day of the week. black.) Then I realized there was an actual situation afoot. As I got closer, (gotta keep the heart rate up, standoff or no standoff), I actually saw several officers outside the store in like, SWAT team postition, guns pointed directly at the store.
By now it sort of dawned on me that, hmm, maybe I should probably skeddadle, in case things go awry. A strong police presence is one thing, but kill weapons out of their holsters is another. Plus, I think that the local constible's were a little extra gung-ho, since they don't get too much heavy action in WeHo, lessen' you count public drunkenness, solicitiation, or subduing Andy Dick as heavy action. Last thing I saw, some tall stringbean was getting cuffed and stuffed, and all of a sudden, I felt safer, knowing this double-latte fiend was now off the streets.

Spuds McOrville

So, last Friday, Bubba and I were taking Orville out for his evening constitutional. We like to go at night, after the throngs have disappeared, so O can graze in peace, without other dogs sizing him up, and inhibiting his fun. Orville, ever the fashion plate, has pulled a Beckham for the summer, deciding that short is in. He gave himself a self-styled buzz cut, and is looking mighty sleek and lean these days. I say this because in the course of our promenade, Orville and his new look caught the eye of a photog. A block from the park, we came upon a house party that was spilling into the front yard. As per usual, a gaggle of folks just had to come over and say hi to the Big O.
Whilst working the crowd, this photographer comes up and is like, "Hey, I'm doing a story for Maxim magazine on a wild Hollywood party. Problem is, this party isn't very wild. Might we entice your pig into the party to sort of liven it up?" Bubba and I weren't initially too keen on this actually. I don't know if you know this, but pigs are bigger chickens than chickens. We said to the guy, "Well, if Orville feels comfortable, then we'll let you do it, but if he's scared at all, that's it." So, start to get Orville up the house steps, and he starts to freak. Did NOT want to go inside to put it mildly. So were like, "Sorry. No go." Undaunted, the photographer said, "Well let's just take some pictures outside." So we did. A few candids of Orville "partying down." They didn't try to put a beer bong in his mouth, or a lampshade on his head or anything. Really, it was just Orville being Orville.
So when you pick up your copy of Maxim in an issue or two, and I KNOW you do, you may just see Orville and me, "whooping it up" amongst the young, hip Hollywood set. I don't know if we'll make it or not, but I'm telling you, the kid's got star written all over him.

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

So, last week, I had a truly authentic L.A. experience in the form of my first earthquake. As you may have heard, we had about a 5.4 out here. I have to say, it's a pretty surreal experience. Bubba and I were in the bedroom talking, she on the bed, I on a chair. All of a sudden, the whole room just starts to shake and sway. We identified that it was an earthquake probably in about 2 seconds, so we didn't panic. But I tell you, it was a LONG 15 seconds. One is really in "the now" during an earthquake. It's long because you don't know what all is going to happen next. Will it increase? Is stuff gonna start flying off the shelves?

The epicenter of this bad boy was about 30-40 miles from us, so really, it wasn't even a 5.4 to us. The locals have all said to me, "that was nothing." Ok. I believe them. It's a little scary to consider. I mean, our house has been here for some time. The old gal upstairs lived through 45 years of quakes in that apt., so it shouldn't ever be too bad. But where it gets scary is, what if you're in a parking garage somewhere? Or up in the hills?
So, while Bubba and I didn't panic, we DID show our New York colors in the sense that, we completely ignored earthquake protocol. They say you're supposed to stand in a doorway. We didn't budge. If the big one ever hits, I'd be curious if I'd have the awareness to do that. I'm also curious to know if our boy Orville is one of them, prophesizing types of animal. You know how they're always saying on the nature shows that the animals know when bad stuff is coming? It would've been cool if Orville were in the room with us, to see if he was twitching or something.
So anyway, it seems to me that no matter where you live, there's always something that COULD take you out. Tornado, hurricane, earthquake, mudslide, etc. As such, I gotta live my life without fear, 'cause it's all bigger than me anyway.