July 5, 2014
I live in a retirement community. If you drilled a hole in my living room floor and continued to drill through the earth’s crusty exterior, through its soft molten center and out the other side, you would come out at Venice Beach, Ca. That is where I am now. There is no place that is more polar opposite, figuratively speaking, from where I live than Venice Beach. There is sun (okay we have that), there is sand (we have dust) there are TBU (we have not so many) and there is energy (we are a little low), and a pulse (we have a weak, erratic one).
TBU= Totally Buff Unit.
I did not drill. I just drove here. After a spring and summer of relentless softball games, I found a soft spot in my schedule and headed out. Actually, my team got beat 32-10 by a bunch of TBU’s last night, but the game was rigged. It was rigged for people who could actually run, catch and throw, not for me. The fact that they were all babes who were forty years younger than us had nothing to do with it. Well it did make it fun to watch them run, catch and throw.
But I digress. After an early morning workout, I jumped in my four legged burro and headed south into the mouth of the beast-Los Angeles. The summer heat followed me until I was within five miles of the coast. I entered Venice Beach (Marina Del Rey) and it was like stepping through the looking glass. It there were an ‘R’ rated version of Disneyland, this would be it. There are long beaches, longer legged TBUs (see below) and a pulse like a crack crazed hooker.
Once I got checked in to the Inn at Venice Beach, I headed out to explore. The first thing I came across was a canal. Venice Beach was originally designed to be the Venice of the USA but that went sideways in a hurry. The canals were all filled in and used for roads. But recently some of the older canals have been reclaimed and they are really quite enchanting. But no one comes to Venice Beach for a gondola ride. They are more interested in rollerblading than being poled along by some sot singing “o’ sol amio” or whatever that song is.
and one dude who hauls a full size player piano to the beach to serenade the roller bladders. This guy suffers for his art.
After a day of sun, sand and continually rotating my head, I was tired and called it an early night.
There was only one Ben Kingsley sighting today. It was me. But it was by a black guy who probably thinks all of white folk look alike. I get Sean Connery too, but those usually come from crack crazed hookers.
I am the one on the right.