Militant Ridazz

This is the part where the Militant talks about his recent bike ride, and those of you who never ride bikes or ride one every once in a blue moon while it sits there gathering dust, rust and cobwebs in your garage decide to move on and read another blog while those of you who do (or desire to) read on.

But in Friday night's episode of Midnight Ridazz, (billed as "The Clown Ride" where participants were encouraged to dress up as clowns...the Militant opted not to), though not as crazy-go-nuts in terms of participants as last month's Echo Park-to-West-Adams-to- Boyle-Heights-to- Downtown- and-back ride, seemed to include a newer, more diverse crowd, which also included select operatives of the Militant as well as members of his militia. Though it was the first time for most of them, it was great to break them in -- after all, urban combat is no walk in the park.

The ride both started and ended in close vicinity to the Militant's compound, which headed down Vermont to Wilshire, then down Hoover to the USC area, where the ride took a break at the parking lot of the University Village shopping center, a.k.a. "UV" (Bruin-types would call it "USC's lame excuse for a Westwood Village," but let's not go there). Riders were treated to an impromptu demonstration by a few two-wheeled tricksters showing of their X-Games-like extreme biking stylee. The ride went on through Mid-City, through the Miracle Mile and onto Pan Pacific Park (no infiltration of Carusoville's Main Street this time). For some of the riders, the ride through the park gave a semblance of an amusement park water ride where riders got a quick shower of water via the park's grass sprinklers. Then it was on to Hollywood, finally ending at the (M) Vermont/Santa Monica station in E-Ho, where many of the riders had a post-ride afterparty at El Gran Burrito.

Before the ride, while the Militant was inside the nearby Drugstore Formerly Known As Thrifty, a.k.a. Rite-Aid (the classic example of East Coast colonialist domination), the curious were asking the helmeted ones questions like, "What is this all bout?" and "Is this a monthly ride?" and receiving answers in the form of the Midnight Ridazz website. Whenever people in cars, pedestrians or waiting bus riders ask the riders, "What is this?" the riders would shout, "MIDNIGHT RIDAZZ!!!" which always follows with an enthusiastic battle cry/cheer from fellow ridazz. The word is spreading. Before you know it, some of the Entourage dudes will go on a mass bike ride in an upcoming episode and bike riding will be the new "In" thing for Los Angeles as dictated to you by the East Coast-controlled mainstream media.

But hey, whatever it takes.

The Militant Takes a "Rain" Check

The Militant leads a busy life, edumacating people on Los Angeles, culture, Los Angeles culture, as well as the cultures of Los Angeles. He was all set last night (the Militant usually goes into writing mode at around midnight and goes live an our or so later) to detail his neighborhood council adventure and hanging out chatting with a local bar owner who attended that meeting about the community, but the Militant was way too fatigued.

In the mean time, the Militant will fill you in, if you're not filled in already, on the internet phenom known as Tay Zonday (pictured above). When the Militant went to the Apple store on Carusoville's Main Street a few weeks ago and touched an iPhone for the very first time (with your heart beat next to mine?), the very first video he saw in that slick little newfangled contraption was something called Chocolate Rain. It featured some nerdy-looking kid on the mic singing in some deep baritone in a song seemingly devoid of structure. Watching that video later on a more conventional desktop computer on yielded momentary laughter and disbelief. But by the third listen, he found something deeper. More, dare the Militant say...militant? Dig the lyrics.

Zonday, the nom d'etage (or nom de guerre?) of a certain 25-year old Minneapolis-based grad school student named Adam, staged the perfect media coup: By using the homemade medium of YouTube, posting something seemingly goofy on the surface, but delivering a dry message on the effects of institutionalized racism literally in between the lines - in the process reeling in the attention of early 21st century pop culture and crossing into traditional forms of media such as Late Show with David Letterman and Jimmy Kimmel Live! (where Zonday performed over the past few days). But wait, there's more. dig one of his interviews. Sanjaya he is definitely not. This is some pretty deep stuff here.

In 1984, the Twin Cities gave us "Purple Rain." In 2007, they now give us "Chocolate Rain."

On A Serious Note
The Militant is known for mixing activism with humor, but he would like to seriously acknowledge the loss of two Angelenos this week: Hal Fishman and Bryan Padgett.

Fishman, as many Angelenos know was KTLA's News at Ten. It's hard for the Militant to say other than what's already been said about the legendary news anchor other than local TV news in Los Angeles has not only lost an anchor, it has lost an entire era.

Padgett was the son of one of the Militant's most loyal readers, Edward Padgett, who is also a fellow local blogger. The younger Padgett was killed in a car accident in Azusa early Wednesday. Please drive more carefully and responsibly, people, so others - including people you care about - won't have to suffer the same fate.

The Militant knew neither of these Angelenos in person, but it is not only human tradition but human nature to create bonds and connections between people during times of loss -- that's when they're needed the most.

Rest in peace, Hal and Bryan.

A Deflated Change in Plans

The Militant has plans. Future plans. Urban plans. Master plans. The Death Star Plans. Plans for his Militant revolution. A Man A Plan A Canal Panama Plans. One can say the Militant is a planning freak (the Militant is not much of a party planner though). But as life runs its course, plans have to change.

Wow, that all sounds real heavy. No the Militant isn't hanging up his combat boots (the Militant has only just begun!), but he had to change some minor plans today.

It all started after the Militant had a nice hour-long talk with the head of a local non-profit arts group in his community, having a nice chat about the community, and sharing with each other our own plans (see? There you go!) for it. The Militant had to ride on over to the AWV for an appointment. When it was done, after, snapping pics of the River (pictured above), the Militant had planned to bike on over to Little Tokyo via Frogtown, Lincoln Heights and Chinatown to do more research for Part 3 of his Ethnic Iced Dessert Quest, and maybe check out a little bi-monthly talent show there as well.

Well something happened after the Militant crossed the bridge over the Los Angeles River where Riverside Drive suddenly becomes Figueroa: The Militant's rear bicycle wheel felt suddenly uneven and he dismounted immediately. There it was.

A flat.

Not just a flat, a "Your inner tube has less air than the vacuum of space and your rear tire is literally falling off the wheel" kind of flat. And that can only mean one thing:

Sabotage.

The Militant knows he is being under attack. The East Coast media powers are out to stop him, at all costs, and have sent their expatriate minions "out here" to stop the Militant. So they scored a microscopic victory against me by finding a way to deflate my rear tire, perhaps via the use of some laser device. There was absolutely no evidence of debris or sharp objects stuck in my tire, as there normally is when the Militant hits a flat (as Will Campbell knows, the Militant is phobic of riding on the Los Angeles River Bike Path for fear of getting puncture weeds stuck in his tires). The Militant was lucky, as this happened just after he had crossed the Los Angeles River, which meant that he had entered The Real Eastside, and that he knows that those who want to stop the Militant never venture into The Real Eastside, so that is probably what saved his front tire from destruction.

The Militant called roadside assistance at around 6:30 p.m., who informed him there was a bicycle shop further north on Figueroa by York in the Highland Park/Eagle Rock/Garvanza area but the Militant didn't want to take the chance of arriving at a place that was closed for the day. So he lifted the rear wheel off the ground and manually walked his wounded chariot a few blocks where the (M) Gold Line Avenue 26 station (pictured left) stood. Pure gold. The Militant rode the train to Union Station where he transfered to the (M) Red Line and on to the Vermont/Beverly Station. While on the train, the badly-flattened tire was an easy conversation starter from fellow passengers, though the Militant had his eyes fixes on a real hot looking Angelena sitting in the middle of the subway car (Damn, she was hot...). After alighting the train and hopping onto the elevator, a quiet, unassuming , but still cute Angelena asked him questions about his bike and bicycles in general. The conversation continued on the mezzanine level and on the second elevator to the street. The Militant didn't hesitate to give her his contact info, you know, just in case, she had more questions about bikes. She may or may not call him back, but hey...the interesting things that can happen outside the confines of a car.

After schlepping his bike on the sleek articulated 204 bus, he brought it to his mechanic where he not only replaced the tube, but got new road wheels, also bumping unexpectedly into a few of his operatives, of all people.

You know the city well enough, and it becomes a small town.

So changing one's plans isn't necessarily a bad thing, it can pave the way for good or better things. The only thing that really matter in the end is...that the Militant still came away with something to wrote for his blog entry for the day.

When The Grey-Haired Posse Determines Our Future...

One of the Militant's biggest pet peeves in being active in the community is experiencing what the Militant called the GHP, or Grey-Haired Posse. "Say what," you ask? The Grey-Haired Posse - septo- and octo- genarian homeowners who really have no life, get overtly and freakishly obsessed with planning/land use management issues and especially like to plan our future...a future in which they most likely won't be alive to see.

Now, don't get the Militant wrong, the Militant was raised in the cultural traditions of his parents' unspecified third world country to respect the elderly, of which he does. The Militant respects the elderly for their wisdom and knowledge, especially their knowledge and depth of history -- but not the future! Also, there are many elderly folks out there who spend their time traveling, engaging their post-retirement time in their favorite hobby or activity, or even experiencing quality moments with their grand- or great-grand- children. Those kinds of old folks are awesome, and the Militant hopes to be just that kind of person when he becomes an elderly Militant. In fact, when the Militant turns old and grey, the last thing he wants to be doing is to become involved in his community (i.e. been there, done that). But the typical member of the GHP isn't like that.

No, they're bitter, maybe so bitter, they either never had the chance to get married or have children, much less grandchildren. They have nothing better to do with their time than to attend community meetings, even city council meetings, and beyotch and complain (99% of the time on planning and land use issues) in long-winded, bitterly-delivered oratorical dirges, 'til the cows come home.

When the Militant started organizing efforts to improve his Not-Really-Eastside community years ago, he had to endure lots and lots and lots of meetings with the GHP in attendance. Not only was he the only person under 30 or 40, but the only person under 50, and perhaps even 60.

On Monday afternoon, the Militant attended a community stakeholder working group meeting organized by the City of Los Angeles' Community Redevelopment Agency regarding the Hollywood Mobility Strategy Plan. The goal of the meeting, which would be the first in a series, is to update the 15-year-old draft transportation plan for Hollywood, as it's become a much, much different place as it was in '92 - the (M) Red Line subway, the increased nightlife and entertainment/retail centers, even the heightened level of walkability in the area, are just a few of the things that have changed in Hollywood over the past decade and a half.

The invited community people ranged from neighborhood council folk to property owners, developers, LAPD senior lead officers, as well as representatives from the local city council office, the city attorney's office, other city departments and the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce. The group was mostly white (big surprise) and most of the folks who contributed to the diversity were people who worked for the City. For a part of town that boasts a Latino demographic of roughly 50% of the entire population, perhaps the only/only other Latino in the group was one of the City representatives.

When it came time for Q and A, the GHP was in full effect. They complained about parking, parking and parking. One of them wanted more parking structures built in the neighborhood. Another was appalled by the City's recommended parking-space-per-square foot ratio, arguing that more parking is necessary. Yet another was afraid the dearth of parking lots means visitors/new residents will park in their streets. All of them scoffed at the notion of future Angelenos taking mass transit. "It's just not realistic!" said one GHP member, who apparently got over her menopause more than a generation ago.

Of course, members of the GHP have every right to voice their concerns. It's their First Amendment right, after all. But is their voice representative of the community? What about the ones that actually working, raising children? What about the youth themselves? What about the community that exists 10, 20 or even 30 years into the future?

Okay, we need more parking structures. At what cost? Do we build more parking structures at the expense of open space, parks and recreational areas? What about the children? A quarter of the Hollywood area's residents are under 18. Do we just let them languish in the educational system and hope they descend into the depths of the prison population somewhere down the line, just because they never had the opportunities to play and interact in recreational centers and open spaces that could have been built? The GHP should support parks, they get the kids off their lawns, after all. More parking structures? Won't that just invite more traffic anyway? More parking structures and wider streets as a traffic solution is kind of like solving a cocaine user's addiction by giving them a wider straw.

Don't get the Militant wrong, he isn't that radical in saying that cars must be abolished or anything. The CRA supports plans for shared parking - especially using existing parking facilities limited to daytime usage to accommodate the nighttime crowd. Yes, people will still drive. But does it have to be an absolute thing? The Militant owns (okay, technically, still paying off) and drives a car - but also rides the bus, train, bike and hoofs it when necessary. Mobility is having balance and choices. It doesn't have to be an absolute decision of "car vs. no car." Besides, only a Sith deals in absolutes.

What has to change are people's habits - people need to get over their narrow-mindedness and cease dismissing transit because it's not an "L.A. thing" (only the East Coast hegemony sells that concept to you). Even driving habits have to change -- combining trips (for example scheduling appointments or errands within a certain area, or along the route of the farthest driving destination, as opposed to driving to tangential destinations all over town) or even leaving the car in the parking lot or curb and walking or taking a short bus or train ride to the next destination should be the way to go. Forget the whole green/eco/global warming angle: By changing your habits, you're saving yourself cash, gas and the size of your ass.

As for the GHP, they're set in their ways, and won't be around much longer anyway. But it's not too late for the rest of you to change...unless you'd rather join the future ranks of the posse.

Wat's Goin' On?

The Militant returned to the heated environs of the San Fernando Valley on Sunday afternoon as he got to visit the Wat Thai Buddhist temple weekend food court in North Hollywood, which was rumored to be closing (as outlined in his previous entry in this here blog). After a 45-minute transit adventure (more below), the Militant worked up both a hunger and thirst to consume mass quantities at his destination.

The Militant didn't even have to walk far after alighting the bus when he arrived on the grounds of the temple. He expected crazy-go-nuts level crowds but it looked like a normal Sunday, albeit the Militant arrived at around 2 p.m. Though the Militant had been to Wat Thai before to volunteer for a cultural event in 2004, he was not able to sample the food court per se.

If it were not for the dry Valley heat (and substitute it for something far more humid), this would have felt just like Asia. The crowd was predominantly Thai but also attracted a few Angelenos of different ethnicities, including white tatooed hipsters, blacks, Latinos, South Asians and Filipinos (who, were it not for their conversations in Tagalog, would have easily blended in with the Thais).

At the token booth, the Militant plopped down $13 worth of food tokens and delighted himself on mint leaf chicken with fried egg over rice, a beef and a chicken satay and fried banana. But the sheer East Valley heat alone caused the Militant to quench his thirst with a Thai shave ice desert (yes, the Militant was gonna write up Part 3 of his Ethnic Iced Dessert Quest series, but not enough data this time around...), fresh coconut juice (in a coconut core) and a Thai iced coffee. Actually, make that $12.50 worth of food as he was left with a round yellow plastic souvenir when all was said and done.

The Militant did spot a sign at the food token booth (pictured right) regarding a petition to save the food court as a good percentage of the proceeds of the token sales do go to benefit the temple, the spiritual and cultural center for some 500,000 Thais in Southern California. The Militant happily obliged to lend his real name, address and signature to the petition and asked the woman canvassing signatures more details. He asked her who exactly was shutting the food court down, but all she said was "The neighborhood is threatening to get the City to shut us down." The petition, which according to temple staff, needed 3,000 signatures, would be submitted to "Our local L.A. City councilmember" (though not mentioned by name, that meant 2nd District Councilwoman Wendy Greuel).

According to one of the Militant's reputable operatives in the Thai community, there have been three things going on in regard to both the foodcourt and the temple itself. First, the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health has recently made their annual inspection and will shut down the food court due to its findings. But the Militant's operative said such closures are normally only temporary - unless there have been gross and extreme health code violations, establishments shut down by the LACDPH almost always re-open in a matter of weeks.

The second issue was general complaints from the neighborhood regarding noise, traffic and loitering, which is interesting since Van Noord Ave., the residential cul-de-sac directly behind the temple, is home to not only temple members, but most of the temple's monks. The Militant's operative said that Wat Thai has worked hard to address the complaints of the neighborhood, which has included satellite parking and shuttle service at a nearby medical center for major festivals. The Militant wonders if the temple has been bullied in this matter as neighborhoods themselves have no authority to shut down something like the food court, only agencies like the Los Angeles Police Department, LACDPH or the Los Angeles City Department of Building and Safety.

The third issue was not directly related to the food court, but did make P.R. matters much worse for the temple, obviously attributed to bad timing. The Militant's operative also mentioned that the LAPD is currently investigating allegations by children at the temple of sexual abuse directed at a male volunteer (none of the temple's monks were named), who is a married undocumented immigrant (and could thusly face deportation regardless of whether the charges stand or not). Investigators have confiscated the temple's computers and other records, according to the Militant's operative.

To be continued...

The Militant's Journey
Although Wat Thai was over 10 miles from his Not Really Eastside compound, he still decided to arrive Militant-style and opted to Go (M) with a 15-minute subway ride via the Red Line and a 30-minute bus ride via Metro Local line 152. North Hollywood had changed quite a bit since the last time he was there, most notably with the completion of the Noho Commons retail center across the street from the subway station, which includes the requisite corporate coffee shop (the Los Angeles-based Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf this time, not that ubiquitous Seattle one), a Coldstone and a HOWS supermarket, which was a curious new sight for the obviously non-Valley resident Militant. It turns out, HOWS is basically a Handspring-esque incarnation of the old Hughes supermakets, which was acquired by Ralphs in the 1990s and eventually assimilated into the Borg (resistance is futile). In fact, "HOWS" is actually an acronym made up of the last names of former Hughes Family Market executives (putting to rest the gripe from transplants complaining why yet another California supermarket chain failed include an apostrophe in its name). The North Hollywood (M) station was even adorned with HOWS market ads (pictured left).

The ride on the 152 was a circuitous 8.5-mile ride through the East Valley, going up Vineland towards Sun Valley and heading due west on Roscoe to the northern border of North Hollywood. Obviously the line could have been more direct, but cuts in transit operating budgets force bus lines, especially those in the Valley, to exist as Frankenstein-like routes, patched together from segments of discontinued lines to still continue to serve their ridership in some fashion. The East Valley resembles a less-dense, dustier and scorching version of Pico-Union, peppered with taco stands and auto repair shops (in fact the entire eastern end of Roscoe is comprised exclusively of auto mechanic/body/parts/scrap businesses), albeit with the Verdugo Mountains replacing the Downtown Los Angeles skyline as the backdrop.

Yes the journey took 45 minutes, but a car trip could never yield this sort of observation, and the irate neighbors of Wat Tai couldn't blame this Militant for being a nuisance to their 'hood.

Wat Thai Food Court - Closing???

The Militant has recently received some seriously disturbing news that the immensely-celebrated weekend food court at North Hollywood's Wat Thai Buddhist Temple might be closing for good, this weekend being its last (To clarify, the temple itself is not closing, it's just the weekend food court that is in danger of being shut down).

The food court, originally established to satiate the appetites of the temple's congregation by serving up an authentic slice of the motherland, has gradually become immensely popular with non-Thais, especially foodies, who admire the foodcourt's stunning variety, great value and most of all, culinary authenticity.

According to this thread on Chowhound's Los Angeles discussion board, a petition is being passed around to keep it open and there have been long-standing complaints in the neighborhood (coughNIMBY cough) that the food court has caused massive parking problems for residents. See where your auto dependency gets you?

The closure of the food court would be a sad loss for Los Angeles. Though this great city is certainly not lacking in Thai cuisine, this is perhaps the only was locals can enjoy Thai satays or papaya salad in a more authentic, social, outdoor setting.

The Militant plans to be there Sunday, and is already scouring mta.net for the best way to get there from the North Hollywood Red Line station...The Militant hopes you do too, and perhaps it'll make both the local neighbors as well as the food vendors happy.

Update: The food court will be open next weekend, which, according to the security guard at the temple, is slated to be its final week. More to follow from the Militant!

Wat Thai Buddhist Temple
12909 Cantara Ave., North Hollywood
(Near Coldwater Canyon Ave. and Roscoe Blvd).

Food court open Sat-Sun, 8 a.m. - 6 p.m.

Let's Pretend We're Tourists

Some 100 cyclists rode the streets of Los Angeles on Friday night to partake in Ride-ARC's "Tourismo!" ride that playfully took the mostly- native Angeleno riders on a 30+ mile tour of tourist traps, historic places and facades seen on movies and television, stretching from Hollywood to Beverly Hills and back.

Starting at the parking lot of Mayfair Market on Franklin Avenue, the ride went up the steep inclines of the Hollywood Hills, stopping by the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Ennis House, freewheeling back downhill right below the Griffith Observatory, heading due west to the Capitol Records Building, then down the Boulevard to the front of Mann's Chinese Theatre (pictured above), where bicycle tires rested on the footprints and signatures of stars as the pack posed for a group photo, which was a genuine "WTF?" moment for the tourists who were there. The ride also passed by Fairfax High School, Melrose Avenue (which is now home to the largest concentration of nonfat frozen yogurt franchises in the entire world, the Militant kids you not) to Paramount Studios. The bikes also meandered through the winding concrete path of Pan Pacific Park, taillights blinking like fireflies, then up to The Grove (pictured below, where the pack jokingly sang "Happy Birthday" to a paranoid security guard -- remember, Caruso's Main Street is private property), through Beverly Blvd. to Beverly Hills. The ride continued past the swanky celeb-patronized shops of Robertson, the luxury car dealerships of Wilshire, Rodeo Drive, the Sunset Strip and back. Famous TV/movie houses were seen, such as the Halloween house on Orange Grove Ave, the Cunningham residence from the '70s TV series Happy Days, (located on Cahuenga Blvd. just blocks south of where the series was filmed on the Paramount lot), and even stars' homes like Bugsy Siegel's house in Beverly Hills and yes, even Paris You-Know-Who's house on King's Road, just off of the Sunset Strip (ironically, behind a Hyatt Hotel).

While many folks would rather party on a Friday night, this was a party where locals got to pretend to be tourists, and Alex, the ride coordinator, gave factual and historical information during the tour's stops. Speaking of party, there couldn't have been a more perfect juxtaposition of the rich and non-rich, the glamorous and the practical and the fake and the real, especially when the pack infiltrated the parking lot next to The Avalon, with helmeted riders literally right next to the dressed-to-impress crowd waiting to get inside the club. The scene was even repeated around 2 a.m. when the riders passed clubgoers leaving Sunset Strip spots. Even when the ride passed through normally tranquil, quasi-private, secluded residential areas in Los Feliz or Beverly Hills, it was a clash between two seemingly diametrically-opposed worlds. For this Militant, it was awesome.

The Militant also enjoyed this ride because of the crowd - a much more diverse pack of riders this time, and 100 being the right size for a pack. The Militant also ran into friends both old and new, such as fellow local blogster supreme Will Campbell, who wrote his own account here (Note: He has signed the Militant's non-disclosure forms under penalty of perjury so please do not hound him with queries regarding The Militant's identity); "J," a dude who the Militant met on Franklin en route to the starting point; "A," who shares a mutual friend with the Militant in a certain local foodie blogster and "M," an Angelena on an electric bike which the Militant struck up a conversation with and who was struggling behind the pack in Beverly Hills pedaling on the heavy bike (that battery pack weighs a ton) -- with under-inflated tires. The Militant offered to switch bikes with her and ended up riding off with her the rest of the way (The Militant is not just an officer, but a gentleman as well...).

Ride-ARC is where it's at. The Militant now looks forward to the first Friday of the month.

A Trip Down 3rd (World) Street

During one of the Militant's many bike rides within the 5-mile radius of his compound, he often favors certain streets over others, for no other reason than their accessibility or their familiarity -- Vermont or Western always; Hollywood, Sunset, Santa Monica, Melrose, Beverly, 6th or Wilshire very often (topography does play a huge role when biking; the Militant tries to avoid the steep hill on Normandie Avenue between Melrose and Beverly). But on a spur-of-the-moment decision while biking down Vermont between errands on Wednesday evening, he decided to veer right on 3rd Street.
Right away, it hit him: the roughness of the road (the asphalt was removed for re-paving soon), the faint smell of smoke, the stronger scent of food and other spices, the sight of throngs of people walking on a relatively narrow sidewalk, with street vendors selling everything from sliced fruits to sunglasses, took him back to [the largest city of his parents' unspecified home country]. But this was different. It was officially Koreatown, but not exactly Koreatown.

It really was like the 3rd world.

Now, unlike most hoity-toity know-it-all writers, the Militant does not mean this in the pejorative sense. The sights that the Militant saw were not of shame, disgust or disdain, he saw a multi-cultural community not fearing the urban landscape, but embracing it.

A young Latino boy in a taekwondo uniform crossed a sidestreet with his mother and younger sister, while a Bangladeshi couple entered a market to grab a little taste of home (apparently the presence of a Bangladeshi community here is something the Militant discovered only recently). Around here, a minimall might sport businesses from, at the very least, four different ethnic groups. In addition, traces of the Thai, Filipino, Vietnamese and Pacific Islander
communities spill over into this thick ethnic soup of a community. This is the type of neighborhood where the "privileged class" is not white Americans, but yet another immigrant group -- Koreans, far more established and business-savvy, owing their presence largely to taking advantage of the B1 Visa where others don't. This is the type of neighborhood where the most common product sold in the stores are phone cards, which, for $5 or $10, anyone can call a local or toll-free number printed on the card, enter a PIN code revealed after scratching off the silver bar and talk to their abuela, their bhai or their tatay (That's grandma, cousin or father in Spanish, Bengali and Tagalog, respectively) for minutes to hours on end, on the other side of the world, usually at odd hours of the night.

Now, people from more, um, privileged areas usually scoff and accuse these people of being "insular," "unwelcoming" or "keeping to themselves." But this is where their American dream begins. Whether they speak English or not, their children definitely will, if they don't already, and will likely grow up torn between a world of two cultures, finding their identity. Enclaves, whether designated or not, exist so they can give each other a boost, some support (be it emotional or financial) or just make friends. How many immigrants actually end up homeless in our streets? Very few, if any. East Coast transplants migrate "out west" and whine and complain why the pizza is no good or why the leaves don't all turn orange in the Fall, but imagine the culture shock of the foreign immigrant -- which is that of the transplant magnified a hundredfold -- yet they are too grateful and self-respecting to whine. In fact, whining is not even an option. Their only option is to work, to survive.

And surviving is what they do here in the dense sidestreets of 3rd Street.

The experience isn't unique to this street, it's replicated in places like Pico-Union, North Hollywood, East Hollywood, Panorama City and Westlake, to name a few.

In East Hollywood's Thai Town, the same scene is played over, this time with the cast of characters speaking Thai, Spanish and Armenian, the street a little bit cleaner and the neighborhood, though still densely populated, not as dense as the corridor two miles due south. Of course, it helps when the street is arguably the most famous street in the world. The Times did an article on Thai Town on Thursday, and while it depicted the same characteristics of a low-income, multicultural immigrant population, its restaurants are renowned, its ethnic identity is becoming a permanent part of the cityscape and community organizations are striving to empower and educate its residents on how to run a successful business, and facilitating a public market there.

Back down in 3rd (World) Street, perhaps the roughness of the pre-paved road is the perfect metaphor -- it's rough now, but the best is yet to come. Though others may pass, with fear or without regard, the Militant will ride through 3rd Street again, quietly wishing its residents the best of luck and prosperity, and uncover even more untold stories. Perhaps you might even give it a try yourself.

Go Retro: Malibu Grand Prix

Every so often, The Militant will have a sudden urge to get nostalgic, so periodically he will pull out the old photo album and show pictures of himself in his younger days taken at various SoCal locales. As expected, in order to protect his and anyone else's identity, any identifying facial features of The Militant or his relatives or friends will be pixelated out.

Today, The Militant's "Go Retro" edition for today takes you back to 1983. Back then, Prince might have sung a song about a little red Corvette, but a younger Militant took a spin in a little white miniature Indy car at Malibu Grand Prix, just off the 60 in the City of Industry. Not only was it a great place to drive a miniature race car, but it had a killer video arcade where the Militant played games like Millipede and Pole Position. The younger Militant never realized at the time that there never was an actual Malibu Grand Prix in the city of Malibu proper, and that such names were only created to propagate, for both better and worse, the "California mystique" of fun, sun and adventure. There are still Malibu Grand Prixes in other parts of the country, though, and the City of Industry location lives on today under the name "SpeedZone," which incidentally, despite its relative proximity to the actual place called Malibu, is the one of only two Malibu Grand Prix-owned facilities (the other is in Dallas) that do not bear the "Malibu" name. Considering the City of Malibu is a long-ass narrow strip of land along the coast, there probably was never room to have an actual Malibu Grand Prix in Malibu, unless some filthy rich dude took it upon himself to make a private one on his home property.

Why Rock Music Sucks Now

"Rock music is boring right now," declared and lamented club owner Sam Lanni of Safari Sam's during their "Community Open House Meeting" on Tuesday night.

When the Militant first heard about this event, he was expecting people who lived around the corner to voice their opinions on possible parking, noise and/or littering issues from patrons of the 15-month old East Hollywood nightspot. Surely a new club inviting the community to speak out about whether they're a good neighbor or not is worth talking about.

Whether intentional or not, the event was totally different in nature and was more of a discussion on the state of the music industry, more specifically the live music scene in Los Angeles circa 2007. Either way, the Militant was interested.

Lanni complained about uninspired, homogenous "shoegazer" bands performing their droll repertoire to a thinned-out crowd who just stands there, meagerly clapping between songs, and worse, crowds only present for the 45 or so minutes the band they intended to see is onstage. When the set is over, they leave.

More than a few in the 30-or-so, almost exclusively white crowd (aside from the Militant, the only ethnic faces were those representing the local neighborhood council at their outreach table. And when the people from the "community" look more white than the people from the neighborhood council, something's not quite right...) chimed in, in accord, "That's an L.A. thing," Of course, insinuating that every person in Los Angeles, including the guy who sells oranges by the 101 offramp, is shallow, flaky and self-absorbed. Uh, okay. Though one woman, bless her soul, muttered, "That's how it is in Chicago, too..." but it's likely no one heard what she said, or wanted to recognize that such words were uttered.

But Lanni mentioned that his old-school country (not contemporary Nashville country, he stressed) shows don't exhibit those same traits as his rock shows -- the bands support each other and watch each other's sets, and the crowd has a great time. "I don't want to have to make this a country music club," he quipped.

One veteran in the crowd, however, recalled that back in the '80s, in the era of the most "L.A." of all "L.A. rock scenes" -- The '80s glam/hair metal era -- bands would support each other and watched each other's shows. He mentioned how a person going to, say, a Poison show back in the say, could easily spot members of Ratt or Motley Crue in the crowd. The camaraderie, he mentioned, is lost these days.

Of course, these days, the crowd agreed, there are a plethora of clubs in the scene, catering to an overabundance of bands.

The Militant blames it all on the indie rock thing. Maybe he's getting old, but he just doesn't get it. So a hipster can strap a battered Fender Mustang knockoff guitar around his neck and strum on a couple chords. What is driving him to do such an activity? Boredom? Conformity? Whatever it is, it's certainly not the same stuff that drove alienated young Britons in the '70s to make punk, nor is it anything close to what inspired African American youths in the West Bronx to create this music/movement/culture called hip-hop.

The Militant knows there are lots of scenes and sub-scenes, genres and sub-genres never discovered by the mainstream club scene, or even the "mainstream underground" club scene. Latino punk bands from South Los Angeles? Korean-American hip-hop events? (but oh, many of you have seen this one) many laugh because such notions are way out of their mainstream paradigms, and most of all don't fit the mainstream's ethnic-stereotyped compartments. But if one wants to look at art borne out of alienation and disenfranchisement, there's lots from our ethnic communities. They're more underground than "the underground," which is determined by tastemakers far removed (in so many ways) from the living, breathing multiculture of the ignored, the disregarded, the invisible. The Militant has seen (and may have even participated in) these beyond-underground scenes. Though the level of talent ranges from novice to the OMG, there is a definite drive and purpose to their artistry. The unfortunate thing is, they "preach to the choir" and are largely celebrated only within their own enclaves. Unfortunate, because they have incredible potential to educate others about their own cultures, yet in most cases that has not yet come to their realization.

But as clubs, promoters and the like either lament the lack of creativity or originality, or merely perpetuate it, something is going on outside their windows that they might really be into...as long as they recognize it's there.