MONDAY
I flew to LA without incident. I got to my favorite B&B, the Venice Beach House, just 50 yards from the beach. My favorite room wasn’t available, so I made do with another one I’ve never been in. Beautiful, except for two small problems: no desk and lousy wifi. Other than that it’s perfect. What do I care for Wifi… Oops, I actually care a lot. There I go, whining again. So I fell down the Google hole, trying to figure out what streetcar line used to run parallel to Culver Blvd, a street I got lost on along the way (bad directions from Hertz). That killed a half hour. Sepulveda Blvd was a parking lot, so I got the N and C's house late. We went to McCormick and Schmick and I had lobster. C gave me an article from the NY Times about a Malian singer to send to Marlow.Got back and fell down the Google hole again for an hour—the amount of time being determined by the lousy connection. I am truly like the French royal family—I learn nothing and I forget nothing.
TUESDAY
Started off with a walk on the beach this morning. The tide was quite low. The breakfast here at the Venice Beach House was French toast and sausage—not exactly my usual. They also had yogurt. I probably should just have eaten dry cereal, but with all the sodium, it’s not so hot either. Drove down to Palos Verdes, just south of Torrance. There. I met my buddy JS, a professor at USC. We had a great time as usual, although we had to skip our usual walk! Normally, we walk an hour down to a restaurant in town. This time we drove. A disappointment, but it marked the first time in years he saw me dressed in something other than my walking clothes. He said I cleaned up nice. I had lime chicken salad for lunch. I had quiet evening, although I did spend an hour driving around looking at old Pacific Electric streetcar tracks. I decided just to have cherries for dinner; I’d had enough food for one day already.
WEDNESDAY
Got out at 7 and walked for an hour on Venice beach. Got back and had scrambled eggs and a bagel for breakfast. The eggs had cheese and spinach in them. The LA Times was here on time, so I got a chance to read both the funnies AND the front page. From my room, the Internet is interminable. Of course, that’s not as bad as “not available,” but it is a pain in the butt. I have to get dressed and go downstairs to get reasonable responsiveness. My goal was to get out by 9; I got out by 9:15, and got to Jerry Pournelle’s house in the San Fernando valley town of Studio City by 10:05 am. Jerry and I set out almost immediately on our walk, since the predicted high was 100 degrees. It got very hot, very fast, as we took his dog Sable up the very steep, twisty and dusty hill into the Santa Monica Mountain State Park. The round trip took two hours. We each drank a quart of water when we got back to the house. We drove over to the Good Earth restaurant in his neighborhood, where I had the bbq chicken pizza. Here's how Jerry saw the visit, from his blog:
I had a long standing appointment to hike with Paul Schindler, my BYTE editor in the days when BYTE transformed from a printed magazine to on-line, and today Paul and I took Sable up the hill. It’s a bit over two miles in each direction, and a 700 foot climb from Laurel Terrace to the heights above the Tree People at Mulholland and Coldwater. Not all that punishing, but for most of the month of July Roberta has been recovering from a severe sprain that keeps her from going on our morning walks, and despite Sable’s best efforts to talk me into going out daily, I haven’t been doing that much this month, mostly because it has been hot.
This hike has been scheduled for months, and Sable knows that Paul means hikes, so the weather was no excuse. It’s well over 90 out there, and there’s no water on the trail. I took a Baggie of ice cubes, and Sable got nearly all of them. A fur coat isn’t precisely the proper dress for this weather. Sable was fine, though. She loves that trail: there are fresh gopher holes ever few feet, and she keeps hoping to find a really stupid gopher. As long as she’s hunting I don’t worry about her reactions to the heat, and she left a trail of terrified gophers from bottom to top to back down again. She came home and curled up for a nap.
The upshot was that one thoroughly delightful time delayed another. I was 10 minutes late joining Neal at the Landmark Cinema in the Westside Pavillion at Pico and Westwood for The Guard, a fish out of water Irish comedy featuring Brendan Gleeson as a veteran Irish cop and Don Cheadle as a black FBI agent. Very funny stuff. After that, to the corner of Chautauqua and Pacific Coast Highway, to a newish seafood restaurant called The Hungry Cat. I had the crab appetizer, Neal had the octopus, and we both had the lobster roll entrée , topped off with the strawberry rhubarb crisp.
THURSDAY
One last hour on the Beach, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, and off to LAX for an uneventful ride home. My wife picked me up at the airport, a lovely gesture as always.