Pasadena!
Prior to that visit, I had recently finished reading "Helen of Pasadena," and attended a book club at which the author, Lian Dolan, discussed the book. The Book Club-P (P for Pasadena) meeting was no more recent than a couple weeks ago, and after I read the book and heard the talk, I realized that I didn't know much about Pasadena at all. I don't know the area. I rarely visit. I knew nothing of the culture. I was never really interested....I didn't expect it to be such a unique area. I always considered Hollywood/Los Angeles/Santa Monica as the fun and interesting spots; however, after learning about Pasadena's old money, the community's culture, and a little more about the locations the book, the author and the Pasadena bookclubbers were referencing, Pasadena was becoming more and more intriguing to me. Besides, I've been getting a little bit bored with the Hollywood/Los Angeles/Santa Monica scene...well, a lot bored.
"Explore Pasadena One Day!" I put on my list. And One Day came much sooner than later.
The week following Book Club-P, an e-mail popped up in my inbox announcing the first annual Happy Hour Week.....in Pasadena. And the day after, an e-mail popped up in my inbox reminding me of the exhibit I was interested in: "Made Up", at the Art Design College Wind Tunnel Gallery...in Pasadena. So with thoughts of Pasadena still fresh in my mind, and since each member of my family had something else to do on a Saturday, I thought...
...CARPE DIEM!!!
To my good fortune, I was able to recruit, with not much persuasion, my friend, San Francy, to accompany me on an out of town subway-train-walking adventure to and through the pretentious, fascinating, and to me, mysterious, country of Pasadena. Mysterious to San Francy too. She did not read the book. She knows less than me. She's definitely up for the adventure.
Red Line to Union Station
Gold Line to Fillmore Station
"Made Up" Exhibition at Art Center College of Design
South Campus, Wind Tunnel Gallery
Gold Line to Del Mar Station (one stop north)
Happy Hour Week, Old Town Pasadena...with wine!
Forecast: Pasadena: Sunny, 75 degrees.
I print out e-mails. I print out maps. I print out menus. And we are all set to go.
Initially, the plan is to bicycle down to San Francy's house then she drives to the Station. The bicycle part of the trip is in competition with Saturday errands and, sadly, errands win out as time runs out. So pedal to the metal it is. Drats! I was looking forward to a Me-no-drive-day. Well....close enough.
Red Line Arrival: 1:05 pm. Great timing!
Step off the escalator
Step on-and-off the platform...
...and step onto the subway...there's no haste 'cause no wait!
San Francy and Me goin' on a trip!
Next stop: Union Station.
Living in Los Angeles for a lotta years, I have never ever been to Union Station. I know, shocking! So San Francy takes me on a tour. A short tour. I expect Grand Central Station. It's more like Miniature Central Station. Instead of the hustle and bustle and restaurants and bars, I see slouched and relaxed with water and birds. Yep! Birds! Those birds are flying and nesting inside all over that station.
After that 5 minute tour, to the Gold Line it is. Again, we run up the escalator. We don't see a sign. So we choose the train which travels toward the mountains. Because we are both related to people who are related to Boy Scouts, we figure that out. We step off the platform and step onto the train. There's no haste...'cause no wait! This day is starting out to be a great day!
Chinatown -stop-
Lincoln/Cypress -stop-
Heritage Square -stop-
Southwest Museum -stop-
Highland Park -stop-
Mission -stop-
Fillmore! STOP...it is time to de-train!
We step out under the sun and out onto cement. Lots of cement. We are surrounded by cement. Cement buildings everywhere. We both thought Pasadena was beautiful and lush and filled with orchards and flowers. We walk one block over to Raymond and head south! It's an industrial utopia...for the industrialist-building-liking-peoples at heart...and we seem to be the only living things on the sidewalks. Not even one single bug crosses our path on our way to the Exhibit. We wonder if we're safe in a neighborhood. Or maybe Armageddon happened while we were on the train. It's strange.
It's like we're in a different country!
We walk briskly south on Raymond...and, shortly, arrive at the Art Center College of Design, South Campus, Wind Tunnel Gallery. We made it to Made Up, the exhibition where technology marries art...and, in our case, unfortunately, divorces our brains!
PREREQUISITE FOR EXHIBIT
Architectural Degree
Engineering Degree
Math Degree
Preferably a Masters Degree in each or all...
...one would think, anyway!
First challenge. Figure out what to see, what to do, and how to do it. We see things...well, plans hanging on walls, a PVC piping sculpture-thing hanging from the ceiling, computers lined up ready to be viewed. But no one to talk to. Not a living thing. Not a human. Not a plant. Not a bug. And no explanation on the walls accompanying the exhibits? This is not the kind of exhibit that I've been to before.
It's like we're in a different country!
What do we do? How do we do it?
After a short delay, my brain eventually accesses the appropriate pathway through connected synapses to be able to find out what to do and how to do it. The Brain tells The Eyes to look to the the right and down to the ground where they see a stack of papers, translating it to be a very short stack of exhibit guides that merely reach up to ankle-level. Apparently exhibit-organizer-peoples assume that all ankles have eyes. After putting my mathematically-architectured-engineer hat on (and that's stating it in the most sarcastic way possible), I fold back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...and then in half...and I have made myself, and San Francy, a nice little exhibit guide brochure. Feelin' smart now? Almost. But we'll see! Foreshadowing a "Not!"
I can't quite explain the exhibit. I find this part very difficult to write. Because I'm not quite sure either one of us understands what we see....or read, for that matter. All I can do is narrow it down to Japanese future car drawings, PVC piping, computers with pixel shows and toy makers, lightning rod attractors, holes in seas, invisible things, paintings turned into weird things, weird things turned into paintings, urban plans and plans for bacteria to change sand to sandstone so as to secure buildings during earthquakes (I think!). And that is it! Two hours. Brains tired. We have brought our best efforts. We check our brains at the door. We have earned our Happy Hour tour.
We leave. We slow down and check out the architecture of the building...now this is what we are more interested in...and we don't even need a guide. The Art Center College of Design building is really, truly spectacular. Along the rear of the building are very interesting shapes in various sizes and the sides and front of the building are just as interesting. I don't have a camera with me, but, alas, I have my Droid. The good-for-everything-and-anything Droid. It has a camera. It's not a good one. But it is a fair picture taker.
Next stop Del Mar train stop? Nope. No stop...just walk! We decide not to take the train. So we continue walking through cement-land and come across a small coffee shop in cement-land on the other side of the street. Well, what we think is a small coffee shop. Jones coffee shop. I'm dying for juice...but seeing there's nothing else around, we'll give it a try.
As soon as we walk through the door of what we think is a small coffee shop, it transforms into a Big Massive coffee shop. It's funky...it's trendy...it's gorgeous. It's one big loft space divided up in various, unique areas for sitting, talking, playing, coffee-grinding and coffee-making. One counter for take-out. One coffee bar...and a bartender that goes with it. Here are where the people are...drinking coffee while studying, drawing and computering.
But no juice. So gotta go!
So onward and North-ward...continuing through cement-land....toward the Happy Hours, we notice that only one block to the right of cement-land is lush-land. A completely different land.
The architecture changes to Spanish bungalows and there are actual people outside walking up and down the streets...on one side and the other. And there are trees!!! We stumble upon a small-which-turns-out-to-be a Big Massive bicycle store. A bicycle store with every type of bicycle, every type of accessory and every type of bicycle clothing one could want. We want, but just look. My blood sugar is low. I'm parched. I still want juice.
It's like we're in a different country!
The architecture changes to Spanish bungalows and there are actual people outside walking up and down the streets...on one side and the other. And there are trees!!! We stumble upon a small-which-turns-out-to-be a Big Massive bicycle store. A bicycle store with every type of bicycle, every type of accessory and every type of bicycle clothing one could want. We want, but just look. My blood sugar is low. I'm parched. I still want juice.
Next, we approach a building with a small door where just outside fruit is displayed. San Francy says, "there's a juice bar in here." I look for a sign to see what store we're entering. I don't find a sign. San Francy can't see a sign. Again...we walk through the doors of what we think is a small market into a Big Massive grocery store. An organic/health food grocery store...actually, more like a marketplace than a grocery store. We walk up to the juice bar. There's every type of juice you can imagine. I've never ordered at a juice bar before. Actually, that's not true. There's Jamba Juice, but that doesn't count. And there was the Camden Market...but that was in a different country.
What do you recommend?" I ask.
No answer. (maybe they don't speak English.)
Okay...I'll pick one. "What is the Orange ginger juice like?" I ask.
She says, "It has a little kick. But the sweet with the spicy together is great!"
"I'll take the small at the [Starbucks] price of $3.25," I say.
"That is the [Starbucks] price of $3.25 for a 4 oz.
While waiting the Starbucks wait, I ask, "What's the name of this market?"
"Where are you from?" She asks in a VERY sarcastic tone..."This is Whole Foods!"
San Francy and I look at each other in disbelief and I tell her, "This is NO Whole Foods that I have EVER been to!"
That drink is spicy and has a kick better than a cocktail. It took only two sips and my head cleared, my blood sugar rose and I was back in the game.
What do you recommend?" I ask.
No answer. (maybe they don't speak English.)
Okay...I'll pick one. "What is the Orange ginger juice like?" I ask.
She says, "It has a little kick. But the sweet with the spicy together is great!"
"I'll take the small at the [Starbucks] price of $3.25," I say.
"That is the [Starbucks] price of $3.25 for a 4 oz.
While waiting the Starbucks wait, I ask, "What's the name of this market?"
"Where are you from?" She asks in a VERY sarcastic tone..."This is Whole Foods!"
San Francy and I look at each other in disbelief and I tell her, "This is NO Whole Foods that I have EVER been to!"
It's like we're in a different country!
That drink is spicy and has a kick better than a cocktail. It took only two sips and my head cleared, my blood sugar rose and I was back in the game.
The more we walk, the more we find. It's a Big Massive market of two floors of things to eat:
beans and grains
soups and breads
tapas and wines
cheeses and fish
chocolates and gelato
salads and juices
sushi and teryaki
pizza and sandwiches
And look at the wines!!!!
There is a counter to sit at for everything. San Francy and I decide we could conceivably hang out here morning, noon and night...bagels, sushi and tapas and wine. And we can do our grocery shopping, personal care shopping and a little clothing shopping in between. Maybe walk around the corner for exercise and start all over again!
We walk. We eat cheese. We sip juice. We marvel over wines. We drool over chocolates. We hunger over cakes. We count fishes. I buy seaweed. I finish the juice. It's time to get out and move on.
Then after taking a seat outside with maps and menus, we devise a plan on how to proceed. We get up and walk. And continue to talk. As we approach Green Street, the street just south of Colorado, the main street of Old Town Pasadena, we see that Raymond now looks much more interesting than Arroyo Parkway. So we take a one-block-walk west and spot a big beautifully architectured and landscaped feast for the eyes...
We walk across and down and approach The Castle Green. It's beautiful and lush. No entry. But tour in June. I pull out the Droid, punch in the calendar and now we have that excuse to come back. We're comin' back in June!
We continue one block up to Colorado Boulevard, Old Town Pasadena, and want to cross the street to get to our first Happy Hour destination: The Vertical Wine Bar, on Union and Raymond. But we cannot walk across the street..
...it's like we're in a different country!
We walk across and down and approach The Castle Green. It's beautiful and lush. No entry. But tour in June. I pull out the Droid, punch in the calendar and now we have that excuse to come back. We're comin' back in June!
We continue one block up to Colorado Boulevard, Old Town Pasadena, and want to cross the street to get to our first Happy Hour destination: The Vertical Wine Bar, on Union and Raymond. But we cannot walk across the street..
...we must walk DIAGONALLY across the street.
It's like we're in different country!
Who walks diagonally? Hesitantly, we walk diagonally, feeling vulnerable, especially as we approach the center of the intersection, like any second a car or bus is gonna take us down. We make it to the other side, take a breath, and head up to Union, the little bitty street just north of Colorado...
with little bitty restaurants
little bitty sidewalks
little bitty shops
and little bitty bars.
It's like we're in a different country!
We hear church bells.
It's like we're in a different country!
At this point San Francy actually does exclaim, "It seems like I'm in a different country!"
Agreed! My thoughts exactly!!!
The Vertical Wine Bistro isn't open yet, so we walk down to Pop!, a quaint little bitty place that also isn't open yet. We definitely keep it in mind to return to, it's too cute and quaint...how could we not? Next try...Bar Celona, on Colorado Blvd. It's open. It's appealing. It has a music store in the basement and you can sit at the bar, on top of that music store, and watch the top of music-store-visiting people's heads pass by every now and then. We sit at the bar, count heads, and order empanadas and quesadillas...with wine. Surprisingly, wine taste-testers were offered and we choose our wines. Out come two Big Massive glasses...and the bartender gives us a VERY generous pour of the wine....at Happy Hour prices. 5 bucks each! That wouldn't happen in L.A.!
It's like we're in a different country!
Excellent food. Excellent wine. On to the next!
To Pop! we go. We sit at the bar and wait. Instantly we don't like it there. No music. No talking. No smiling or laughing. Seemingly soul-less people at this place. It feels weird so we leave.
Back to Vertical Wine Bistro, we choose. After walking through a little bitty gate, through a little bitty courtyard and up some little bitty narrow, but, steep stairs, we enter and take the last two seats available. And this place is hopping. Peoples in their 20s, peoples in their 30s, peoples in their 40s, peoples in their 50s and peoples in their 60s...all decades of peoples together...all in the one place. Not in L.A.!
It's like we're in a different country!
It's another two Big Massive wine glasses and another generous pour of the wine for us...and a little bitty margherita pizza. A man asks for a piece of pizza. I try to barter him a piece of pizza for a glass of wine. Thankfully, he gently draws back his hand and refuses the barter...'cause we need no more generous pours of the wine. We gulp our last gulp, shove down our last piece, and proceed out, down and through to the little bitty sidewalk.
Next stop...
...for lobster corn dogs, fried green tomatoes, and fancy ginger-lime cocktail martinis we were drawn to on the menu. It is 7:15...we need to arrive before 8. However, we didn't get there before stopping at one of the biggest art stores we have ever seen in our whole entire lives. And in that store hung a Big Massive collection of artist scraper-spatula-things.
I didn't even realize there even was more than one artist scraper-spatula-thing.
Raymond to Green...turn left...down a block...walk through a patio and into the street level bar. A few steps down is the restaurant, basement level. We may choose where to sit. We choose the bar. Again, we can watch the tops of people's heads as they eat and walk by. We play the "married, on a date or just friends" game. San Francy wins. She's the smarter. She thinks to look for wedding rings. Duh!
Praying these next drinks agree with the wine we've already consumed, we order 2 ginger-lime martini cocktails...happy hour style...so cheap. They sound interesting. And despite our satiated bellies, we order lobster corn dogs and fried green tomatoes. Drinks come pronto! We take a sip of the drink. Mine, too much ginger. San Francy's, too much lime. We switch. Still unsatisfied and surmising that they're undrinkable, I sheepishly tell the waitress we don't care for the drinks...and she pleasantly and apologetically takes them away. So....what to order now?
It's between point-less drinks...
(get it?)
.....and wine!
Wine is the same price...so two pours of the wine, please!
...and two generous pours of the wine they are! This is getting boring!
But sadly...or, actually, more like, fortunately, we could not finish those two pours of the wine. We are wined-out! So after we hear a little bit of blues music, we bid adieu to the band and our wine and stroll out and down ready for our final Pasadena destination...the Del Mar Station for our return trip.
It takes us a while to get back home. We walk through Stations. Wait for trains. Sit on trains. And eventually have to take a little car ride back to San Francy's home. But we hardly notice the time as we excitingly recount our Pasadena adventure the entire way home.
It's hard to believe that Pasadena is only 20 miles down the road from us and I have never explored it before. On top of which, there is even more to explore. More so, it's difficult to believe that we have a town so close to L.A. yet so different; with it's distinctive yet diverse surroundings, it's Big Massive stores, it's abundance of goods, it's quaintness and style and, most importantly, its VERY generous pours of the wine. It's only 20 miles down the road or two trains away...and it was like we were in a different country. It was fun! I'm excited to go back! In June!
Ciao for now!
k
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