TMI: My Tangents
My Journal

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (1)
Share on Facebook



All in the wash, Mrs. Vanderbilt.

Our jolly, jumpy bunch had just completed the usual/unusual cardio kick class. The chain lists the club as Sherman Oaks, not North Hollywood as one would think in this Valley of otherwise murky postal zones, but I like to joke it's across the river from the latter. Yes, the L. A. River goes by and the building resides at the bottom of a slope which puts our concrete channel below street level in this area.

There's not as much taken for granted or mundane after all these decades. The Saturday sky was pasted with an under a thousand ceiling which after all these years we know is a respite from the often unhealthy blaze which follows. Not to worry and to worry. On Blue Bossa's radio is a Beatle-"onia" themed show and the announcer says he is going to play some Wings from Wild Life with George and Ringo to follow.

Oh, oh, that flat picked tuba toned bass line: "Bip Bop"! When it came out it was like so much I'd hear too often, imposed on bright young me, and hey, I was after my own thing. Four decades later through far more outlets I've had a lot of things and now, digitally mixed as all has been, it is kind of cute with the stepping over curbs ragtime guitar line.

Not that I'd buy it, but in looking it up on Amazon MP3 to make sure I got the title correctly after hearing the break-up Beatle sing "Whim, wham" more often, I noticed that the individual track was not 99 cents, the same price for which some long and blazing jazz and virtuoso rock tracks can be landed, but $1.29. Perchance it still goes to a Wildlife fund.

As it played I saw, down the slope from Coldwater Canyon, a group of young adults, appearing to be a on a lightly organized outing, observing the L. A. River. There, across from a block occupied by Valley College and, in the near scape, Grant High School, is a long series of student murals of historical and ethnic themes on the wash's west wall.

Great to see someone appreciating what, taken in a slower mode than driving by every day, reveals more and more.

Now it's Monday with a body works class and two bands ahead and I just can't bring myself to write a "Grant(ed)" pun for the end. Swore I had one figured out that morning. Yes, so much time passes by and yet memory cannot be taken for . . .


Read/Post Comments (1)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.
custsupport@journalscape.com