Wesson's Learned in Mid-City

Your Friendly Neighborhood Militant has been extremely busy with both his Militant and extramilitant activities these past few days, making the blogging chore, er, responsibility a slightly lower priority as of late. But fear not, Militant readers, there's a huge backlog of stuff waiting to be committed to the Compose Window...

The Militant has partially disclosed to you readers that he has an unspecified connection to the community of Mid-City, semi-specifically in a neighborhood within a one-mile radius of the Adams Blvd and La Brea Avenue intersection (which happens to have an oft-overlooked war monument that might sound familiar to you readers). Because of the Militant and extramilitant activities he conducts there frequently, he was asked to attend a community action meeting in that area on Sunday that addressed a couple pressing needs in that low-income community.

While the rest of the local mainstream and online media seems fixated on some strike (Militant Say piss off both the writers and producers alike: Fileshare and pirate your TV programs!), there are people who are finding it increasingly impossible to live in affordable dwellings, and the youth who live in those communities lack very many choices.

And so was the focus of Sunday's meeting at St. Agatha's Catholic Church organized by LA Voice PICO, a (inter-)faith-based grassroots organization that seeks to empower communities with regard to social justice issues. Nearly five hundred community members, including representatives of labor unions, fellow community coalitions and nearby various Christian congregations as well as an Islamic mosque, many holding up signs pertaining to the affordable housing crisis, filled the church's pews to have their voices heard by 10th District Los Angeles City Councilman Herb Wesson (pictured left). The organizers also invited Mercedes Marquez, General Manager of the Los Angeles City Housing Department and LAPD Southwest Division Captain James Craig, all of whom were in attendance (and so were KABC 7 and KMEX 34 news cameras, their presence no doubt sealed the councilman's commitment to attend).

Representatives of the predominantly Latino, historically African American community made presentations about the need for a local youth center and more parks and recreation space (a familiar topic to the Militant) as well as for the need for more affordable housing units in the area. Others were tapped to deliver personal testimonies, including a woman who had to rent a $200-a-month room for her family at someone's house as she could not afford the rent of nearby apartments on an $800-a-month income with considerable health care needs taking up a chunk of her budget as well. A local youth with collegiate aspirations lamented the number of activity choices for people in his age bracket in the community. PowerPoint slides projected various statistics, including that of the 14,000 new housing units built in Los Angeles in 2006, 13,000 of them went to people with an income of more than $135,000 a year.

The Councilman was also called to sign LA Voice PICO's Housing Pledge which calls on the Los Angeles City Councilmembers to support not only more affordable housing, but a citywide mixed-income housing policy, a Housing Trust Fund and tenants' rights education. A three-foot-wide display already bearing the signatures of Eric Garcetti and Jan Perry was waiting for Herb Wesson's name to be added.

"Give me a pen!" responded the councilman, when asked to sign the pledge (pictured above). The roar of cheers and applause followed his imprimatur.

Of course, a politician's support of the faith-based coalition's pledge is likewise an act of faith - only time will tell whether Wesson - as well as his fellow councilmembers - will follow through with their promises.

Give Us This Day, Our Pumpkin Bread

Hollywood locals have been buying - and eating it - for years. A certain local politician gives them away as Holiday gifts to constituents annually.

On the Militant's Thanksgiving table will be a loaf or two of a very Los Angeles tradition, the very heavenly, divine Monastery of the Angels pumpkin bread, made by Dominican (no, not that Dominican, the other kind) nuns in Hollywood.

The Militant heard about this tradition but more recently, Militant Operative Blackbird, who has been deployed on various airlift missions to deliver them, told him exactly where to find it.

The Monastery, located a few blocks north of Franklin and Gower, near the Franklin Village neighborhood, is located not far from the bright lights of The Boulevard or the usually molasses-like flow of the 101 Freeway. It has been there since the 1930s when the nuns moved from the USC area and bought out a mansion for a sweet deal.

The Militant rode his bike up to the Monastery and picked up his loaves on Wednesday afternoon at the gift shop where they already had several boxes of the good stuff waiting for purchase.

The walnut-topped semisweet, moist goodness that is the Monastery pumpkin bread costs $8 a loaf at the Monastery's gift shop, open from 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. They're closed today of course, but you can always get some for Christmas, or any other time. Demand is high during November-December of course, but it all works out since there's an abundance of source material right around this time of year.

Some of you Iron Chef types or Rachael Rays in waiting can try to make this treat by yourself, but hey, these sistas have been practicing a form of sustainable living for ages, so the Militant supports their habit. Besides, though priests might have gotten a bad rap recently, nuns can do no wrong. They're more Mother Teresa than Mother Superior these days anyway.

[Militant Update, 2009 - They are now $9 a loaf...oh the inflation!]

Angels and the Santa Anas

The Militant had to leave the camo at home on Saturday as he attended the wedding of an operative at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Downtown. Of course, though he wasn't dressed as a Militant, the Militant was able to arrive at the wedding Militant-style, as he rode the (M) Red Line to the Civic Center station and simply walked across the street (leaving the car at home also had a practical reason, as you'll find out below).

The Militant had mixed feelings about this wedding, as he wasn't exactly 100% supportive of the primary intent of the union, but what's done is done, and all the Militant could do was wish the operative and his new bride well.

No, the Cathedral wasn't filled to its 3,000+ capacity, only the first section of pews had people in it, with much room to spare, plus a small "spillover" crowd scattered in the next section. During the ceremony, a group of tourgoers in the back looked on with much curiosity.

It had been a while since the Militant had stepped into the characteristically 21st-century Cathedral, and for some reason he never fails to find inspiration in the tan-toned tapestries that hang along both sides of the Cathedral's nave, appropriately designed by artist John Nava. The tapestries depict members of the Catholic Church's Hall of Fame from every race and walk of life walking along average people, likewise from every race and walk of life (pictured above).

After the ceremony came the requisite photography sessions in the courtyard garden between the Cathedral building and the campanile, with the muffled white-noise roar of 101 Freeway traffic blaring from just over the wall. The construction crane and launchpad-like girders of the under-construction school currently known as Central LA New High Schoool #9 loomed over the Cathedral plaza's walls, a telling sign that the presence of redevelopment is inescapable in Downtown.

The Militant carpooled with another set of operatives to an undisclosed location in the San Fernando Valley where the reception took place. The roaring Santa Ana Winds nearly beat us into submission as we navigated through the parking lot into the reception hall. Of course, whern there is a wedding reception, two magic words pique the Militant's interest:

Open Bar.

Needless to say, the Militant didn't seem to remember much throughout the rest of the night, other than that it included a lot of hollering, dancing and doing rather stupid things while the room appeared to be spinning. He did remember looking out of the window into a panoramic view of the Valley, on a night designated as "Lights Out LA." Of course, even if every household complied by turning off all unnecessary lights for an hour, the visual impact could not be seen as most lights seen from a distance were streetlights.

As the Militant imbibed himself into a drunken stupor, he couldn't help but wonder when or how or if his big day will come when he ties the knot with his own Militant Angelena, wherever she is. The Militant has to admit, being a Militant can get rather solitary at times. Okay, maybe she doesn't have to be a Militant Angelena herself (Come to think of it, the Militant seems to think that kind of marriage would would be filled with constant arguments as to who would be more Militant than the other), he'll settle for a regular Angelena, who would be at least supportive of the Militant's lifestyle. Until then, he'll just have to leave you with a quote from the great Los Angeles band, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Sing with the Militant now:

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, the City of Angels
Lonely as I am, together we cry...

Overlooked Los Angeles: The Washington Blvd. Buddha

Washington Blvd., obviously named after the first President of the United States, was part of the City of Los Angeles' plan to designate a series of major east-west thoroughfares after every U.S. president (hence boulevards Adams and Jefferson), but eventually hit a snag in 1912 when the City annexed the town of Colegrove (now part of today's East Hollywood and Koreatown districts), which already had streets named in honor of presidents Madison and Monroe (plus, how would the city honor the nation's 5th president -- another Adams Blvd?).

With Washington having been somewhat of an industrious man, it was perhaps a lucky coincidence that our street named after him would be somewhat industrial in nature, with large bakeries towards the western end, mortuaries (serving the nearby Rosedale Cemetery) in the middle, and more heavier industrial warehouses towards the east.

The other week, the Militant biked down the latter portion of Washington, where the rows of tacquerias and pupuserias transition into more bulky, spartan facades. Here, at the corner of Washington Blvd and Long Beach Ave (in a neighborhood known as Menlo Park), where (M) Blue Line trains snake through the middle of the street on their way to and from the high-speed dedicated right-of-way, stands a nondescript red brick building displaying nothing but a big blue and white sign bearing the name "Hanson Tank" in large block letters -- and a curious weathered concrete object, just a little over a foot tall, nestled in its own little alcove, above a doorway. Whatever could it be?

Years ago, a slightly younger Militant took a makeshift Blue Line tour with a handful transit enthusiast friends and acquaintances. One of them invited a tour guide, whom the Militant will call the Militant Elder (really, his name slipped from the Militant's mind), whose descriptions of otherwise overlooked structures, objects and sights helped change the way the Militant Angeleno sees the city.

The Militant Elder stood up in the aisle of the moving light rail car and pointed to the object in the Hanson Tank building. He told the group that during World War II, when most Japanese Americans were put into internment camps, there were some who avoided being sent to camps and lived secretly among society. So this building, during the War, served as a clandestine temple where Japanese Buddhists were allowed to worship in secret.

The Militant was blown away for many reasons - that in a country where people were supposedly guaranteed freedom of religion that they had to worship secretly, that Japanese Americans had to go through so much during the war, whether interned or not, and that there were little nooks and crannies overlooked by Angelenos every day, only after being discovered did they yield stories unto themselves. But the most amazing thing was that the Washington Blvd Buddha was not a victim of erased history. The Roy E. Hansen, Jr. Manufacturing company, which sells pressurized tanks for industrial use, deserves a lot of credit for letting that little tidbit of culture, faith and history remain, especially when they could have easily removed the statue and covered the alcove with bricks like what was done to some of the windows in the building. But then, that would have just been bad karma.