Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Cuba Day 3: Bring Home The Bacon; Battening Down The Hatches

This is Day 3 in a memorable series of adventures in search of his ancestral "roots" in Habana Cuba as told by guest writer George Roqueni; to read the first parts of his story see the following links:
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html
A statuesque Don Quixote shops for produce
Dear Fellow Voyagers,

Today, the plan involved buying vegetables. Yesterday I discovered that supermarkets here don’t sell vegetables. You must go to a vegetable market and pay in Cuban Pesos. So I gave Jorge some CUC’s which he had to convert into Pesos. This family currently does not have transportation so almost all transactions involve walking. You’ll see many, many people walking in the streets which are the primary method of locomotion. There is no light rail whatsoever. Most people take the bus and you’ll see New Year’s Eve in Times Square type crowds at most bus stops. Passengers aboard these buses are daily packed like sardines at intensity typical of the NYC subway during the height of the rush hour.

"More Revolution" " Better Socialism"
Jorge returned with the vegetables. Then at 9:23 am there was a power outage. The buzz about the approaching tropical storm intensified and the candles came out. This household does not have any flashlights or a portable radio. When I asked when the power would be restored, I was told that sometimes people only commented that the power was on and not when it was off. We were incommunicado other than the landline phone.

An urgent call was placed to El Chino and he appeared with his 1974 Moskvich Russian vehicle which he affectionately calls “The Mostrosky.” Urgent plans were developed to buy non-perishable food stuffs and to do it quickly before there was a panicky run on the stores. This time Bertha and her wheelchair accompanied us on this shopping expedition. She didn’t want to miss any of the excitement and drama. Riding in a 37 year old car which was held together with mix and match parts, no shock absorbers and over streets which looked as if they had been destroyed by line mines is an experience not to be forgotten.
The Mostrosky and pit crew...

El Chino careened from side to side of the street in an attempt to avoid the larger pot holes. This bone rattling ride swerving back and forth to avoid the pedestrians walking in the streets could make your dental crowns come loose and make sure to bring some Dramamine. And remember there are no seat belts to prevent you from popping out the window. Air conditioning? What air conditioning! A tropical storm was on it's way and we were soaked in the humidity...

A store gets a spiffy paint job at ground level only
We arrived at the first supermarket. I was told that this one was “better” than the one visited yesterday. We’ll see. Bertha clutched her pocket book which was placed on her lap as we approached the store up the ramp in her wheel chair. She was told that we wouldn’t be allowed into the market with that pocketbook in her lap. She didn’t believe me – “that’s ridiculous, that’s where I have my money.” After much pleading, we had to pry the pocketbook from her clutches and assure her that El Chino would watch over it while waiting in the Mostrosky.

We filled the shopping cart with non-perishable supplies and the quest for bacon continued. Aha, there was a slab but it had more fat than bacon meat. Let’s look for candles. No candles. We left this market and returned to The Mostrosky. There was a conference with El Chino, Olga and Pedro. Where could bacon be found?

Some buildings fared better than others over time
The owner of the 1953 Chevy Bellaire parked next to us, upon hearing of our dilemma, offered where possibly we might find bacon. Then he said, “The only thing you’ll find in THIS store -- is disrespect. The prices are outrageous.” I discovered that one of the characteristics of the Cubans is that they will offer their opinion and advice if they should overhear your conversation. This happens all the time – it’s a Cuban thing, for sure.

On to the next supermarket, more purchases and aha – there was one slab of bacon. We purchased it faster than the speed of light. Let’s go home to prepare for the tropical storm.



Welcome home...where's the bacon?
 (Niurka and Maytee)





Cuban factoid: Eighty percent of the cars in Cuba are illegal. Why is that?

There is much here to make every moment memorable.

George

Laughter is the music of the soul.


"Liberty Can't Be Blocked" "Here There's No Fear"

Friday, November 25, 2011

Cuba Day #2 - The Money Exchange & Shopping Spree October 25, 2011

This is Day 2 in a memorable series of adventures in search of his ancestral "roots" as told by guest writer George Roqueni; to read the first parts of his story see the following links:
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html

Dear Fellow Voyagers:

Bertha and I are carrying a lot of cash as American credit cards are not used in Cuba.  Bertha’s has cash and goods which are slated to be given, as a favor, to various people from their relatives in Miami.   I’m using a money belt for the first time in my life.  Today’s assignment is to convert my US dollars to Pesos Convertibles (CUC’s) and to find a safety deposit box for all this cash.  Bertha is very nervous that something will happen before we get to distribute all this cash to various people.

Since Pedro’s 1952 Chevrolet became inoperable over one year ago and with no money for repairs, he made arrangements to find transportation and at the same time, someone who would exchange US dollars to CUC’s at a more favorable 7% rate as compared to the bank’s 14% rate.  Enrique Lee (El Chino) appeared in his 1974 Moskvich Russian vehicle to take us to the location for the exchange.
You know how one reflexively reaches to affix the seat belt after sitting in the car. Well, here there are no seat belts on these old vehicles. I’m going to lose the seat belt reflex pretty soon.  Then, he drove us to the largest and most prestigious bank in Habana where I attempted to rent a safety deposit box.  Yes, at one time they had them, but the government abolished them a few years ago.  No, no other bank has them now.  Then I decided to go to some of the very large tourist hotels which until very recently, Cubans were forbidden to enter.  Yes they had them but only in each room so you had to be a registered guest.  Well, so much for a safety deposit box.  Bertha will have to continue sleeping with her money bag under her pillow.

Our next destination was their “super market” touted as one of the largest and most complete in Habana.  At this market you pay in CUC’s and is considered to be an expensive place to shop.  They have more products than the other markets run by the government where you pay in Pesos.  Before entering the market you had to check in your bags and pocketbooks at a service counter located outside the market.  You are only allowed to carry in a wallet, that’s it.  It was very strange not seeing any American products.  Everything was in scarce supply, empty shelves and the displays and counters were somewhat dog-eared.  I wanted to buy bacon, a rarity here, and the guy behind the counter solemnly shook his head from side-to-side indicating that they had bacon but “it was not good.”  There is no deli counter; such things are rarer than hen’s teeth here in Cuba.  When you check out at the cashier, there is a scanning device but no accumulated total displayed so that periodically the cashier will announce what amount you are up to and asks if you want to continue.  Apparently, many people stop when they find that they don’t have enough money. The security guards check your purchases as you exit, a la Costco.
No Waiting Here

After this shopping was done, I asked to be taken to a fancy-ass bakery and pastry shop.  I was taken to “one of the best” places, state owned, where you pay in Pesos.  I purchased four boxes filled with assorted pastries for $3.95 Pesos or what would be 50 cents in US money.  So much for my bakery shopping spree.

There’s a tropical storm brewing now in the Gulf of Mexico which may affect Cuba.  Everyone here is braced for some storm action. At this household there are plans afoot to buy food and supplies right away because as the storm approaches people will begin to panic and what little is available in the markets will completely disappear.


This building has a meat market, a vegetable market and 2 families live on the second floor.

Another element which helps to make every moment memorable.

George

Laughter is the music of the soul.


Thursday, November 24, 2011

"Dear Fellow Voyagers..." Part 1b

Dear Fellow Voyagers: Part 1b
by George Roqueni
Note: To start at the beginning read Part 1a first:
 http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html

Arrival at Goss 154, entre Libertad y Johnson, Santo Suarez

The arrangement we made originally was to stay at the home of Pedro and Olga for the first two days. We did this because our visa application stated the reason for the trip was to visit family in La Habana. Once we made the application, the Cuban authorities actually went to the home of Pedro and Olga to verify that we were family and the exact nature of our relationship. We were not visiting as “tourists” because this is not permitted by the US government as a result of the US economic embargo. The Cubans refer to this as El Bloqueo (the blockade).


The Ruiz house: our temporary home

After two days, the plan was to move into one of the historic mansions in the oldest part of Habana (la Habana vieja) which have been converted into small hotels. These small hotels have all the early 19th century colonial architecture and many with period furniture. They have been beautifully restored as has most of the historic district but the rest of the city’s infrastructure: buildings and streets, are literally crumbling.

Our accommodations
Our gracious hosts made great efforts to accommodate us. They moved furniture from what had been used as an office on the first floor, painted it and the adjoining bathroom and built closets to accommodate our belongings. Since Bertha cannot climb stairs the upstairs bedrooms were out of the question. 

Let me tell you about our host family. Olga is 67 years old and niece to Bertha’s deceased husband. Her husband of 42 year is Pedro, age 62 who was in the military for many years and now retired. Pedro is well respected (and feared) because of his connection to the military and government. Bertha takes comfort that we are “well protected” because of Pedro’s background and government connections.

Living in the same house are two grand children, Daniel, age 19 and Pedro (junior) age 9, both are children of Maytee, age 38, our hosts’ daughter, and Jorge her spouse. Also nearby in the neighborhood is Niurka, 41 year old daughter who is twice divorced without children and now single living alone. She works for the Cuban postal service.

Bertha, Olga, Pedro Jr., Niurka, Pedro Sr.

Maytee, (the mother of the two children) has a doctorate in Optometry (obtained after six years of study – all education is provided free to every citizen) and is visiting for one month’s vacation from her assignment as a doctor in rural Venezuela. She took a two year government assignment in Venezuela in order to increase her salary to support her family.

Maytee is the only person in this household who has a job. Jorge her spouse is a computer networking specialist. He is unemployed and was recently laid off after 12 years of employment with the same company. Daniel, the 19 year old is also unemployed after losing his job as a security guard at one of the tourist hotels. The unemployment rate in Cuba is at least 30%. Those who are employed by the government are paid in Pesos. For example, Niurka who works fulltime for the government postal service and the only one who has an e-mail address as a result of her government job earns 200 Pesos per month or the equivalent of 8.33 CUC’s or $7.16 in US dollars. Maytee, who chose to leave her family to go on assignment to Venezuela (in a dangerous rural community approximately 10 miles from the Columbian border – I’ll tell you later about the 60+ bodies found in the streets each and every week) so that she could raise her salary from 15 to 120 CUC’s monthly, or to $103.80 US dollars. She has to pay all her own housing and food expenses. She is the only source of regular income for this entire extended family.

Pedro, Pedro Jr., Bertha, Maytee, Jorge, Daniel, Niurka, and Olga

Their economic situation is dire. All family units have a food ration book (La Libreta). Olga proffered La Libreta and explained the system. I was shocked and amazed. The amount of food rationed monthly, which is paid for in Pesos at a government store, is barely enough to cover one week of nutrition for this entire family. Tremendous effort and time is expended every day just for simple survival. Even when there is money available, many times food and goods cannot be found. When shopping, it is necessary to go from store to store just to find what is available. All this accomplished on foot or by bus transportation. This has been going on for over 50 years with little major improvements. All this is as the result of “El Bloqueo.”


A Memorable Man in a memorable time and place

You have absolutely no idea what a blessing it is to live in the United States of America.

This comparison is making every moment memorable.

George

End of Part 1b, please see Part 2.


George will continue his story as Brock Ba'jer's newest guest author: a Memorable Man.

"Dear Fellow Voyagers..." Part 1a


Author George Roqueni and Bertha

The next several posts come to you from the talented writer and traveler George Roqueni whom I met at Montrose Thieves Market as a fellow vendor. As a friend and fellow human I have shared wonderful adventures with George including the very near rental of an antiques store together (he owned Simply Unique Antiques in Silverlake) and his thought provoking observations of small towns like Sunland Tujunga and Silverlake, and large ones like his native New York. George is a sophisticated soul with life experiences that fill his readers with desire for adventures of their own. George is a world traveler, speaks multiple languages, is articulate, opinionated, empathetic and fearless. His writing embodies full screen views of worlds seldom seen. Here is his terribly compelling series of letters describing the search for his "roots" in Communist Cuba. Be sure to follow the story (multiple parts/posts) to its end...

Dear Fellow Voyagers: Part 1a
by George Roqueni

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. Since my last missive sent to you many moons ago, I have been many places, seen many things, taken many photos and had many experiences. This trip is different as I write to you from Habana Cuba the day of my arrival here.

This is how this trip came into being. I’m traveling with my first cousin Bertha who is 93 years old. Her mom and mine were sisters. I’ve known Bertha for sixty years. She was born in Cuba in 1918, lived an upper middle class life and traveled the world. Bertha was pro-Fidel at the onset of the revolution but after a while became disenchanted with Communism. She always remained a strong Fidelista. There is a difference in Cuban culture and politics between loyalty to Fidel but not necessarily to communism. This is really a socialist state. Sometime later Carlos, her husband, became seriously ill, almost near death with a heart condition requiring open heart surgery. Because open heart surgery was not available in Cuba at that time, they traveled to Atlanta, Georgia where Carlos’ brother was a cardiologist and his wife an anesthesiologist. In their 50s Bertha and Carlos arrived in the USA in February 1969 to have life saving medical treatment and started a new life in the US.

Bertha and George: Happy Travelers
At that time of the post revolutionary fervor, if you left Cuba for any reason whatsoever, the state confiscated everything you owned. Bertha owned and managed a chain of beauty salons with over 20 employees, catering to the super rich and Carlos was the manager of the American owned B.F.Goodrich Tire Company. They had a ranch in the country, house in the fashionable part of Habana and a condo in the city. They arrived in the US with nothing other than the clothes in their back; all their possessions and accomplishments were left behind when they left Cuba.

Carlos died in 1999, at age 82 after a ten year bout with Alzheimer’s. Bertha took care of him at home; she did this alone without any assistance whatsoever. They never were on the public dole for anything. In 2005 she returned to Cuba for the first time, 36 years after her original departure, to visit the one and only relative who remained alive, her aunt Idelia who was very ill and close to death. Bertha was 87 years old at that time and made the journey to Cuba alone. In 2008 she again went to Cuba, traveling alone; she was 90. She went to visit her husband’s niece Olga, who inherited the house of Bertha’s in-laws and the very place she and her husband Carlos visited and stayed when she lived in Cuba.

First view of Cuba...

Now at 93, Bertha told me that she could no long travel unaccompanied so I decided to take her, accompany her and protect her. She wanted to say goodbye to whoever remained and to explore the possibility of reclaiming her house which she lost when she fled Cuba. She wanted to guide me so that I could connect to my ancestry. Recent changes earlier this year in Cuban laws now allows the personal ownership of a home and the ability to buy or sell one; something which was never permitted previously.

My journey began Sunday October 23 when I left NY and flew to Miami to the home of Bertha. Then early Monday morning, Bertha and I with the appropriate visas in hand, left on a chartered flight to Jose Marti Airport in Habana, Cuba. The adventure began.

We landed in Jose Marti airport and ran the gauntlet of immigration, customs and the health department. Immigration checks your visa, ask questions about the purpose of your visit and who you are visiting – the specific name and address and take your photograph. Customs asks what you are bringing into the country and passes you through the same screening as happen with the TSA except you don’t have to take your shoes off. The health department wants to know if you have any communicable diseases or if you have been with anyone who has. You’ll see these very cute cocker spaniel dogs running around the luggage claim area. Don’t call to them or pet them. They are drug sniffing dogs trained to sit quietly next to you when they smell drugs even the smallest amount inadvertently forgotten pot residue at the bottom of your pocketbook.


Bertha, awaiting interrogation...

Finally, your luggage is weighed because you are allowed to bring into Cuba 66 pounds. Anything over that, the Cuban government charges a tariff per pound unless your plastic wrapped luggage is marked “food and medicines” (which I managed to do when I discovered this from others at the terminal, on one parcel before leaving Miami) in which case it is not weighed. After weighing, you are directed to the cashier to pay the fees which are to be paid in Pesos Convertibles (CUC) which is different from the regular Cuban money which is Pesos. There are two types of money in circulation in Cuba.

Of course, the weighing staff was very solicitous after receiving a tip handed to them unobtrusively. After much hushed consultations with someone who appeared to be a supervisor, our luggage was not even weighed so we slipped through without paying any fees even though I know we were way over the 66 pound limit. In addition, we were not forced to go to the money exchange to covert US dollars to Pesos Convertibles (CUC’s) at an exorbitant exchange rate in order to pay the weight tariff. Finally we emerged from the airport terminal into the loving embrace of Bertha’s pseudo niece Olga who greeted me with “Welcome to Cuba” in somewhat heavily accented English. We had finally arrived in Cuba.

Everything which happened made every moment memorable.

George

End of Part 1a; to continue the adventure read Part 1b:
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!


 
Manipulation of the media is self serving behavior and a pattern for those not interested in furthering community education but causing community dissention.


Like most of us I have strong beliefs: a passionate interest, views on favorite subjects, and convictions on several. My passion may be different from yours, but I have a love for…

• The natural world, horticulture, environmental laws, the sciences, and the human element in it all;
• The written and spoken word, journalism, communication, human interaction by expressed thought; and
• Community and the larger world, human history, progress, and understanding.

You’ll see the common theme is the relationship of fellow man to his surroundings and fellow human beings. Naturally I've studied these subjects. Yet events in my own community are a mystery as I find humans can be an inflexible member of their surroundings and attempt to shape it to their plans rather than reverse. Of course in a healthy frame of mind this innovative behavior would be called ‘progress’ but in a self centered frame of mind it becomes ‘abuse’.

Where this human pattern becomes a concern is when strong individuals impact their community in such a way that thousands of unsuspecting members of that community are affected (often adversely) by the decisions of a few. This is happening to our community of Sunland Tujunga.

If I descend into specifics which are infuriating enough, I will set players up for criticism which has never improved a thing. Further, I’ve done no justice to the second item on the list and will have violated my principles by spreading gossip. But if I speak to the larger spirit of human awareness I still fail, for those who are guilty of misdeeds think I must mean someone else and those who are blameless wonder if I mean them…

So I employ an old psychological principle and address the behavior, and hope we all reconsider our own.

Manipulation of the media is self serving behavior and a pattern for those not interested in furthering community education but causing community dissention while drawing undeserved media coverage to themselves. I know of no less than six media outlets that have been manipulated and coerced to print the “news” in our community of Sunland Tujunga including the City Council website, two local newspapers, three blogs (including my own) and an on-line forum. The countless articles, posts, comments, and more were the product of deliberate dissemination of misleading information presented to the media.

Some people will never be newsworthy except by discord. They tell the press “something is going to happen” then insure it. Furthering their own views at the expense of others, they deny debate and are willing to sacrifice their own valuable and worthy contribution to the same muck they throw at their opponents. Community meetings are not a stage, even the best performance is not reality.

There has got to be a way to bring errant community meetings under control. Self control is an obvious but somehow unattainable answer.The FBCSP meeting even ended early last night (they had the room for an hour but adjourned forcefully at 30 minutes). And the agenda included a document called "Ground Rules" (which are the same things you learned in kindergarten). Demands for mediators revealed a need for outside control of an internal problem. The demands for the removal of one should cause all to be dismissed. There are no longer any 'good guys' or 'bad guys'. The community deserves better than this... the gentleman from Sun Valley said it best: "Why can't you all just be nice to each other?"

Friday, October 21, 2011

The Samoa Project Ad Hoc Committee Does Their Homework

For the record, the Fresh and Easy exceptions to the FBCSP were unopposed at yesterday's hearing; for those who keep track of such things, this is the oversized signage. That was the only Fresh and Easy item on the agenda. The Fresh and Easy Bill AB 183 was signed into law recently by Governor Brown and Fresh and Easy will have to comply by adding manned checkouts to its design. And while the welcoming committee gladhanded and backpatted at the hearing,  community members juggled countless other responsibilities like diligent and in-depth research on the community opposition to the Samoa Project. The next meeting on this more current hot topic will be held at Sunland Tujunga's North Valley City Hall this coming Monday, October 24th at 7:30 pm at 7747 Foothill Boulevard in Tujunga 91042.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Editorial: Reliable Reporting vs. Reliable Sources

I'm writing this editorial unedited without stopping, straight from the heart... from my keyboard to your eyes (sort of like the expression: 'from your lips to God's ear')...

Dear Sunland Tujunga,
Writers must always remember that there are no  'reliable sources' as all of us are human and falter in our efforts, are clumsy in our helpfulness, and unwittingly interject strong opinion as though it were genuine fact... before passing it on to writers.

Writers have to be so much more responsible than their sources in discernment, checking against known evidence or resources, discounting emotional information, denying themselves 'a story' if there is any doubt or lack of evidence to confirm it. That responsibility is the writers code, and sources (reliable or not) have no responsibility to fact-check their information nor do they bear the responsibility of error if they are wrong. Sources are allowed to talk 'off the cuff' and encouraged to do so. Those unedited conversations should NOT make it into print.

Writers however DO bear responsibility. The spoken word is strong enough but the written word circles the world thanks to the internet. That written word MUST be true. Occasional errors happen and that's what "corrections" are for: to set the record straight. However, if a writer has too many 'corrections' (or none at all) they may not be accurate anymore... that's a fate worse than death for a writer. None of us wants that. For ourselves or each other.

Several inaccuracies have come out in reports concerning key players in the controversial Samoa Project currently in play in Tujunga and Council Chambers. I attended meetings, reported on them and stand by my report. Yet my report differs widely from another's. Those who did not attend the meetings used 'reliable sources' who did.

I have spoken to those sources and the hugeness of the Samoa Project is foremost in their mind; it overshadows reason. Its not that the project isn't huge: in fact it is! But the approach must be step by step. That is my method of reporting vs. others. That is how I viewed the meeting... as a step by step proposal. That's how I approach anything bigger than I am! Step by step...

Now a 'reliable source' suffers needlessly for sharing opinionated information no fact check would have allowed unedited. Meanwhile an inaccurate report goes on record and a Council Office must write to dispute it. You can read the letters here: http://cd2policy.blogspot.com/ The plot thickens... and real issues get shunted aside in favor of misinformation. This is the most alarming result of the situation... residents of Sunland Tujunga lose sight of the issues they CAN have an impact on!

I urge this community. Do not lose focus. Do not speak to issues that are not key to the controversy that is the Samoa Project. Reply only to topics such as: population density, inaccuracies regarding reports of affordable housing in the area, crime and gangs, lack of parking, historical preservation and Bolton Hall, lack of curbs, rainwater flooding, narrow streets, school issues and child safety, fire fighters lack of access, scenic preservation, neighborhood character, lack of greenspace, inadequate parkland, construction pollution... have I given you enough?

I could go on but I'd rather see you at a meeting... please participate. There's nothing like first hand knowledge.

Sincerely,
Brock Ba'jer
Aka Terre Ashmore

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The View from the Cross

The Cross of San Ysidro, Mt. McGroarty, Tujunga
"San Ysidro, Patron Saint of Little Homes, was not a saint of the Catholic Church, according to John McGroarty . . . He was a Spanish peasant, and his name, McGroarty said, indicates he was probably a Jew. . . Thus the dedication of this monument was sponsored by an organization of laymen, held around a cross that was raised in honor of a “saint” who probably was a Jew, and blessed by a Catholic priest during ceremonies involving all Protestant organizations in the Valley.... – Wallace Morgan – for The Record-Ledger

"In selling the idea of it, McGroarty, the Scribe and

Booster Bard, wove the fabled life of San Ysidro – in which

the saint had ceased his work to help the grandam find her goat,

whereupon (in his absence) an angel took those labors up.

A parable in which self-interest was replaced by the

spirit of benevolence – For in the hard life of farming

dry and rocky soil, only with each others help could one survive



"With the convert’s passion, and the spirit of a man reborn

(having thrown the shackles of nocturnal asthma in the sweet

and solemn-breathing air of the Verdugos) the Scribe sold

the broken colony his ecumenical hopes – so much so

they built his cross in weeks, and pledged to find the funds to light it.



"Perhaps by raising it, a monument with manifest ideals,

a people perpetuate such standards. Perhaps not. But

consider this: On the antipodal Verdugos in


J"uly of ‘24, the Times reported on quite different

pageantry beneath a cross – rather, several – burning as

eight hundred on the Glendale hills joined that city’s Ku Klux Klan.

Or this: that when ‘30s Tujunga Jewry formed their Temple

Shomrei Emunah, Guardians of the Faith, the Women’s Club gave

them a home, five years, while they built. This while La Crescenta’s

chapter of the Bund held pro-Nazi rallies at their parks, and

Pasadena practiced covenants excluding Jews and papists.



"Four months, and they had lit the cross – and in a time when night pulled

a drape of perfect darkness on the hills, the Cross was more than

cross, but spoke of noble-minded roots, what they valued in others

and hoped for from themselves. And perhaps in those black nights, its light

was consolation for their failed Utopian dream, broken

by the harshness of life in a place known as the Rock."
 – Wallace Morgan – for The Record-Ledger


To all of us who live in this beloved valley, who, cut off from the rest of our far-flung City, must rely on each other for safety and even for continued health as we seek to safeguard the historic quality of the air that sustains us* -- I wish us the peace that surpasseth understanding. The founders of this community, the Little Lands Colony, a socialist-utopian agricultural colony, relied on the good will of others to an extent we rarely see today. But I believe, with them for inspiration, that we can live in tolerance of each other, and protect this beautiful land, as those who came before us did: our historical society, founded by the community in the mid-50s, who told the City they would not allow the City's planned destruction of Bolton Hall -- now a treasured landmark honored as a National Landmark, State Point of Historic Interest and City Historic Monument -- and in so doing created Los Angeles' Historic Preservation ordinance, which now protects over 1,000 cultural or historic landmarks; community activists in the '80s and '90s who demanded that the City stop sending the urban blight of auto wrecking yards to our town, and insisted that our hills and mountains be off limits to developers, along the way creating the Scenic Corridor and Foothill Blvd. Specific Plans; and the community activists of this 21st century who for four years said no to the City and one of the most devious, conniving and well-funded of America's commercial giants, and in beating Home Depot lent encouragement to communities all over the nation who have gone on to successfully fight off the incursion of big box stores and their slash-and-burn economic models.

We face a new threat today. The City has fast-tracked a publicly funded 5-floor monster of a Housing Project on Samoa Avenue at Valmont, an area already suffering from its occupation by the notorious Toonerville gang (according to the Los Angeles Times, Daily News and the LAPD). According to the LAPD's website (lapdonline.org), one Toonerville Tujunga banger is among their top ten most wanted gang members, Top Ten, first wanted for the murder of a Tujungan on Valmont, two blocks from the proposed Projects. And the City's idea of how to help us rid ourselves of the scourge of gang violence and crime is to obliterate more of our one-storey historic community and stuff 64-units, all but three of them three- to four-bedrooms, onto a twenty-foot wide street on land once occupied by two two-bedroom 900 square-foot houses. High density housing projects have been denounced by all other western nations as an absolute failure in providing decent affordable housing, serving instead to promote crime, pollution, asthma and a perpetuation of hopelessness. Another boondoggle for billionaire developers and a stab at the hopes of low- to moderate-income asthmatics with the hope of being able to breathe in a home of their own.

Thank you for all you do to make this place so wonderful.



Kathleen Travers


Kathleen, a former educator, is a 4th-generation Angeleno. An art historian who specializes in historic restoration, she lives in a 1924 bungalow farmhouse in Sunland that she restored. She reads her poetry with the Village Poets of Sunland-Tujunga, who present their readings on the fourth Sunday of each month, 4:30 p.m., at Bolton Hall Museum, 11000 Commerce Avenue.


* Sunland-Tujunga was a haven for those with asthma from its inception. Once known as one of two places in the world with the perfect air quality for healing respiratory ailments (the other in the Nile River Delta, Egypt), asthmatics moved here from all over the world to be healed, and stayed. Even now, surveys reveal that half of all households in our community house an asthmatic, many of them maintained by our life-giving air alone, without medication. But new construction with the release of toxins from teardowns, from the disturbed soil and from the highly toxic building materials now used, along with increased vehicle traffic, threaten to destroy the fragile balance of our perfect air, cleaned by our surrounding hillsides, our native trees, the directional orientation of our valley and the wind patterns whipped by the many canyons of our favorite high wind zone.

What does AB 183 mean for consumers and Fresh & Easy?

What does the passage of AB 183 mean to customers of Fresh & Easy, the British chain of supermarkets taking over California? Simply put? More service and more jobs! F&E will have to hire more employees to cashier at the legally required manned checkouts needed to purchase alcohol. Californians will have more service and more jobs and the potential for alcohol abuse will be reduced as well.

F&E has worked very hard to create the image in the consumers mind that self serve cash registers are somehow preferable. The one who benefits most from self serve anything is the business who forces the consumer to do for free what the business once had to pay an employee to do for them. Consumers don’t realize the price of goods includes the expense of selling them to the consumer. When the service disappears entirely but the goods only go down in price moderately, who profits? Not the consumer.

The one who benefits most from self serve anything is the business who forces the consumer to do for free what the business once had to pay an employee to do for them.
Studies show customers prefer to use manned checkout stands. Given a choice (which Fresh & Easy does not) the customer will go to the cashier and bagger, not the self serve register. (At Albertsons lines often stretch from manned registers while self serve registers are unused.) Fresh & Easy will need to provide more cashiers to serve those waiting in line and you can see F&E’s bottom dollar shrink in profits vs. overhead. No wonder they fought AB 183

Opponents have staged elaborate scenarios where they tried to purchase alcohol from a self serve register and photograph the act then when they were caught (as if their suspicious behavior weren’t a red flag) they report the system works. It does not. Intoxicated adults have used the self serve registers without effort and teen sites detail how to overwhelm the self serve register to their advantage. Nothing compares to a human being looking them in the eye and asking for ID.

Besides, after all the work it takes to make a cartful of purchases I want the few moments to catch my breath at the register while a cashiers expertise and a baggers skill rewards me as a consumer for choosing a full serve market.  

The people of the State of California do enact as follows:

Assembly Bill No. 183
CHAPTER 726
An act to add Section 23394.7 to the Business and Professions Code,
relating to alcoholic beverages.

[Approved by Governor October 9, 2011. Filed with
Secretary of State October 9, 2011.]

Legislative Counsel’s Digest
AB 183, Ma. Alcoholic beverage licenses: self-service checkouts.

The Alcoholic Beverage Control Act, administered by the Department
of Alcoholic Beverage Control, regulates the sale and distribution of
alcoholic beverages and the granting of licenses for the manufacture,
distribution, and sale of alcoholic beverages within the state.

This bill would prohibit off-sale licensees from selling alcoholic beverages
using a customer-operated checkout stand located on the licensee’s physical
premises. This bill makes findings and declarations regarding the effects of
allowing alcoholic beverages to be sold using self-service checkouts.

The Alcoholic Beverage Control Act provides that a violation of any of
its provisions for which another penalty or punishment is not specifically
provided is a misdemeanor. This bill would expand existing crimes by
imposing additional duties on a licensee under the act, thus, the bill would
impose a state-mandated local program.

The California Constitution requires the state to reimburse local agencies
and school districts for certain costs mandated by the state. Statutory
provisions establish procedures for making that reimbursement.
This bill would provide that no reimbursement is required by this act for
a specified reason.

The people of the State of California do enact as follows:
SECTION 1. The Legislature finds and declares that allowing customers
to purchase alcoholic beverages through self-service checkouts:
(a) Facilitates the purchase of alcoholic beverages by minors.
(b) Permits customers who are in an advanced state of intoxication to
purchase additional alcoholic beverages, in violation of state law.
(c) Allows for greater theft of alcoholic beverages, thereby depriving the
state of tax revenues.

SEC. 2. Section 23394.7 is added to the Business and Professions Code,
to read: 23394.7. No privileges under an off-sale license shall be exercised by
the licensee at any customer-operated checkout stand located on the
licensee’s physical premises.

SEC. 3. No reimbursement is required by this act pursuant to Section 6
of Article XIII B of the California Constitution because the only costs that
may be incurred by a local agency or school district will be incurred because
this act creates a new crime or infraction, eliminates a crime or infraction,
or changes the penalty for a crime or infraction, within the meaning of
Section 17556 of the Government Code, or changes the definition of a crime
within the meaning of Section 6 of Article XIII B of the California
Constitution.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

A Story: The Canyon Is A Magic Place

There’s something magic about The Canyon.
No, really: I saw it with my own eyes…or did I?
It happened about 15 years ago…or did it?

As a single parent I always found ways to entertain my son that were free, inexpensive and local. As an environmental enthusiast and Big T “local” it was a perfect setting to take my growing son every week of his young life to Big Tujunga Canyon (The Canyon for short). We hiked, gathered natural ‘treasures’, swam in the pools and waterfalls and loved The Canyon like it was our own back yard. But we never saw anything in our yard to equal what we witnessed in The Canyon.

There’s an outcrop of rock just past the intersection of Big T Canyon Road and The 2 Highway, before the dam overlook. We always called it The Flattop. It had a forest rangers station at one time, years ago. It stretches a rocky peninsula of stone way out into The Canyon’s natural crevasse. One of The Canyon’s purging fires wiped the station out and all that remains is the concrete foundation, stone planters and a series of flat levels that were bunkers, a helicopter pad and unpaved parking in better days; a deeply rutted road wends its way up to the top of the precipice. Winding and treacherous trails snake in broken pathways down the cliffsides and end in concrete outlooks. It is a glorious place to explore! My son Adam and I discovered that helicopter student pilots learn to fly up The Canyon, hover over Flattop and often land there. Perfect for a young boy to see!

So one weekday afternoon we packed a lunch and set out for Flattop. I nearly chose another destination for variety as we had just been there the day before…We parked in the little turnout across the road from Flattop. From the moment we got out of the car I knew something was different. It was so quiet it was like the sound had been turned off and all the natural things: birds chittering, winds sighing, ground squirrels scampering in the underbrush, were utterly absent. Silence loomed like a physical presence. I shook it off as my imagination and we hiked up the road to Flattop.

At the very first level I had planned to stop and cut ancient rosemary to weave into a wreath for my kitchen. I had my clippers at the ready but when we came to the flat area that stretched like an optical illusion into a sheer drop off, I crouched instinctively with clippers held like a weapon before me and drew my child behind me for protection…

Before me was an intricate Celtic Circle: a series of concentric circular pathways that covered the entire (every square foot) rocky shelf for a diameter of about 3500 square feet! It was made of hundreds of river stones, each the same smooth texture and the sizes grew progressively and minutely smaller as they marched inward. They had to have been brought to the site as all the stones on the precipice are angular not smooth. The pathway led ever inward to the center where a small barren tree had been planted and little objects hung from its branches. The entire Flattop had been swept smooth where the Celtic Circle was. Without thinking I began to walk the pathway, then caught myself and stopped in amazement at what I beheld and my acceptance of it; but that wasn’t all...

It felt as though we were being watched, like we’d surprised someone walking the circle and I imagined they had scurried for cover in the underbrush or might be hiding on the cliffside trails. As I cast my eyes about me looking for anything else not ‘right’, my gaze came to a complete shocked halt at an impossible sight (more so even than anything I had beheld so far).

There on the very point of the precipice was an immense and perfectly detailed 20 foot tall Wicker Man! As a person of UK heritage (and a nice mix of it) I can say my affinity for all things of that faraway land appeal to me in a deeply satisfying way… but this creation made my skin prickle and every hair stand up. It was shockingly ugly. It was both male and female with long branches of hair and skeletal limbs and enormous hollow abdomen. I believe it was not a good thing, yet how can I call such a mystery: evil? It was made entirely of branches; mud held it together and formed genitalia (both sexes) and it pointed one long arm with the index finger extended like a knobby hand down toward The Canyon in the direction I had come and directly in line with the setting sun. It was plainly spiritual and none of this had been there when we were, just the day before. 

Then, as only small boys can do, my son marched over to the circle, and before I realized what he was doing, he pried a stone from its place and flung it out over the cliff. I never heard it hit for the instant he threw it, it seemed as though a door had opened and all the sound that had been stored there came at me at once! It was a cacophony of noise: birds, winds, falling rocks and something else I cannot say… but very like a voice. I'd like to say I searched for it on the hillside but in truth our bodies moved of their own accord!

Our feet only touched the ground to take off and it seemed we made it back to the car in one long stride. Neither of us spoke all the drive home but when I got there my son said “no one will believe us” so I ran inside the house for the camera and he was still in shock in the car when I returned. We drove all the way back up to Flattop in record time.

It was gone. No… it was like it had never been. Even in the deepening dusk I could see every single stone was gone, not piled to the side but entirely absent. Not a twig or bit of mud remained of the Wicker Man and it was not thrown over the precipice. The tree was gone and every thing on it. The area had bits of debris natural to the setting strewn back in place. But our footprints from our earlier visit were also gone…

There was nothing to take a picture of.
Only our memory of the day remains…
The Canyon is a magic place.



Terre Ashmore © 2011


Thursday, October 6, 2011

Editorial: " Uh-oh! Your Name Is On Their Blah'g..."

Blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah?  Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah, Blah Blah Blah. Blahblahblah BLAH BLAH BLAH!!! (blahblahblahbjoeblahblah…) Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah; blah blah blah blah blah. Blah. Blah? Blah!

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Blahblahblahtomiblah blah blah blahblah. Blahblah Blahblahblahblah Blahblah… Blah blahblahblahblahblahkathleen. Blah Blah Blah: blahblahblah blah blah. Blahblah Blahblahblahblah, “Blah Blah blah blahblah blah!” Blah.

Blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah; blah blah blah blah… BLAH!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Sunland Tujunga's Beloved Bats


Beautiful Bat by Meg Benhase and Mostlyphotos 2009

One perfect eventide as the last rays of a late September sun were yielding to dusk; a splash of warm sunlight lit up the side of my home in Tujunga Canyon. It was too rich an invitation to resist and a young bat pup left his home in the nearby crevasse earlier than usual to land with a smack against the warm stucco and spread his wings to absorb the forbidden sun.

We studied each other and as he was reluctant to yield his post I was able to get within inches of him. He was the most perfect creature; his tiny fox face was no bigger than a nickel with black intelligent eyes like jet beads; his long graceful wings were a marvel of engineering. He swiveled his head deftly to keep an eye on my every move, and when I stretched out my hand to touch him he snarled the minutest warning. My mom (who endured all my naturalist's yearnings with good humor) said, “Don’t spoil it; this is his time in the sun.”

Seconds later his entire colony circled our heads and he was gone to join them in a heartbeat. He moved so fast I couldn’t see his departure. We watched as the colony swirled and dove and did acrobatics so fast it was hard to appreciate the precision of their performance. What we did appreciate however is the sudden and complete elimination of the cloud of mosquitoes that the bats consumed. My mom said “Well that sure beats 'Off' or 'Deet' spray!”

Recently I’ve read local alarmists’ warnings that rabid bats have been found in Ventura County and how we ought to wage war on bats. It’s hard not to read those people a list of their lineage. Two more dead rabid bats than normal (normal is 10 a year) have been found (out of gazillions) and suddenly there’s a rush to judgment by the uninformed. Rabies is a common disease. Vaccinate your domestic animals. Every mammal is susceptible except the wondrous Opossum who is immune. So how about a few words of praise for the bats among us?

The bat is the only mammal to conquer the miracle of flight and look what he can do! They fly 60 mph and up to 10,000 feet high with maneuverability mere birds will never possess: performing aeronautics we can’t appreciate except with slow motion photography. Baby bats ‘babble’ according to 2006 National Geographic and they do so to practice their eventual speech which is sonar. The only other baby mammals who practice speech pattern in this way prior to ‘conversation’ are whales, dolphins, and humans. 

The sonar called echolocation allows them to find airborne prey and consume 5000 insects (per bat) every night to satisfy their voracious insectivores’ appetite. That’s a ton of West Nile Virus carrying mosquitoes! When they swoop near humans they are actually saving you from mosquito bites as the bats deftly eat the very insects drawn to your body heat at night. I know it’s tempting to swat at them (though you don’t even come close!) but think of the illness they just saved you from. When the insects are gone so are the bats.

Bats are the only major predator of night-flying insects (mosquitoes, midges) and countries where mosquito vector disease is a problem have a shortage of bats and their habitat. I have created numerous bat habitats for homes near lakes, streambeds and marshes. Areas without waterways are equally prone to disease carrying insects especially in suburbia where standing water is overlooked everywhere and mosquito larvae abound. Bats need water desperately so the first thing you want to provide in your habitat is hanging water sources like hummingbird feeders with insect based water solutions (available at better pet and feed stores). If there is a call for it I will provide a follow up article here on creating your own bat habitat.

Bats also perform miracles you never hear about; they pollinate night blooming flowers most notably the Agave that produces Tequila and agave syrup. They ‘feel’ earthquakes coming; a colony flying in the day is a bad sign. They produce young in relation to ideal conditions; they never overpopulate, but respond to insect levels so more night-flying insects yield more bat births. They are good mothers, nurturing their young longer than necessary and carrying them clinging to their chests while they hunt. They make no nests and wrap their babies up tight in their wings to warm them while they sleep.

Bat Guano is worth its weight in gold; it’s naturally high in nitrogen and phosphorus and trace elements and contains no impurities. It is usually protected from rain in the bat's hiding places and therefore is not diluted. It began as plant life consumed by insects that were eaten by bats and is a rich concentration of plant nutrition. It is one of the finest fertilizers and soil amendments known.

All in all I cannot think of a single negative thing about the lovely bat. The bat is truly one of God’s perfections. And here is an astonishing website and photos on an Arizona study called Bat Night 2011 http://mostlyphotos.wordpress.com/2011/09/01/bat-night-2011/

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

"It may be fresh, but it won't be easy"


Cleanup in aisle 8--Fresh and Easy CEO sold $1.3 million worth of company stock in 2008.


Fresh and Easy is at the cutting edge--of a declining trend, according to Associated Press.

Market studies cited by the Arlington, Va.-based Food Marketing Institute found only 16 percent of supermarket transactions in 2010 were done at self-checkout lanes in stores that provided the option. That's down from a high of 22 percent three years ago.

Overall, people reported being much more satisfied with their supermarket experience when they used traditional cashier-staffed lanes.

Fresh & Easy experienced significant growth problems starting a year ago when it announced that it was closing 13 stores in the Southwest. The firm, a UK firm that branched into America five years ago with fast-growth plans, recently announced it would sell off its underperforming Japanese markets. Parent Tesco has yet to turn a profit in the United States, but hopes to be profitable within two years.

Its retail practices have also been called into question by industry watchdogs such as Jim Prevor, the Perishable Pundit, who writes this in an appraisal of the deep-discount grocer's coupon policy:

The Fresh & Easy tactic smells of bait-and-switch; convince the consumers that you offer beautiful large cherries in clamshells, attract the customers in with an ad for discount cherries, and then let them see they are not discounted, they are different cherries, lousy cherries, and hope the consumers will buy your full profit item.

Maybe people with lots of free time will tolerate this treatment. But good customers, the ones who spend more freely to get what they want, when they want it, will only be attracted to a store once with this kind of shenanigan.

Whether the UK company truly understands the highly competitive American supermarket business has yet to be demonstrated. Tesco's US adventure with Fresh & Easy in the US was termed a "disaster" and "an invasion that went wrong" by the UK press as recently as two years ago.