Abbot Kinney, thanks for the fun!

By CJ Gronner

We always look so forward to the Abbot Kinney Festival every year, and this year could not have been a more perfect day for it. Gone was the oppressive heat at the beach that some maniacs have been complaining about (Never me), and a gentle breeze blew through the sunshine to create the most gorgeous possible day for all of Venice (and friends) to come together.

Once again, the entire town seemed to be in a great mood, and once again it reminded me of a homecoming weekend, or Thanksgiving, when you see all the old, familiar faces that people get too caught up in their own lives to see every day. I actually (once again) didn’t get to look at too many booths or things, as every two feet you would have another friendly encounter. I love that.

I spent a good chunk of the afternoon kicking it at the Free Venice Beachhead booth, where I got to meet many of our town’s readers, hear their concerns, ideas, support and funny stories. One extra OG man told me how he’d lived in Venice all his life, and it “used to be FUN here … now the Pigs won’t let anyone have any fun. It’s all Yuppies and money now”. Though I did see a person with a real pig as a pet, I believe this guy was talking about the cops. They were pretty cool on this day, but they kind of need to be now, when many in our community are pretty down on them after the whole Ronald Weekley thing. One young lady asked “How can I donate to The Beachhead or become a Sustainer?” It made me so happy that someone in the teen demographic understands and appreciates the need and the work that goes into a FREE press. And that it’s a very important method for preserving OUR Venice, the way that man remembered it. Preserving the FUN, instead of being all about the money and hipster b.s. I headed back out into the mix, encouraged.

But this was a day for celebration, and everyone looked to be doing a great job at that. One great tip for ladies on Abbot Kinney Festival day is that the line for the ladies restroom is always the shortest at The Roosterfish. The ‘Fish was completely packed all day. Gay, straight, every single genre of person having a total ball getting sauced in the daytime on the patio, where great looking hamburgers were being grilled up right in the middle of it all. So fun.

The kids were having a whole bunch of fun at the kid area at Westminster School, where they could do a climbing wall, ride a little Ferris Wheel, and generally go nuts on all the sugar they were hopped up on.

People out buying things too, from jewelry, clothes and art to hot sauce, fairy wings and feather headdresses. You could also register to vote to show your appreciation for the improved economy we were witnessing.

You could eat anything you wanted, and there were so many delicious looking food booths that it made it difficult to decide (we went with Outdoor Grill and gourmet ice cream sandwiches – yum).

It has irked me in recent years that the music stages did not represent our Venice musicians, hardly, if at all, which seems lame considering we all know GREAT musicians in Venice. Same deal this time around, and I really only made a point to catch The LivingThings, who fired up the people hanging out at The Brig and the Palms stage.

With all to see and do at the Abbot Kinney Festival, the very best thing remains the people. The people watching. Seeing old friends and making new ones. Seeing that some people walk goats around as pets, and some people don’t really wear clothes. Some people wear really cool clothes. Some people get through the crowd on stilts. But everyone has a good time, and is happy to be here in our beloved Venice.

Back home later, I could hear the clanging of the poles on the ground from the booths being dismantled, another successful year of the fair coming to an end. I heard a drunken crew rolling down my street and one of the girls shrieking, “This was the best Festival EVER!!!” She probably hadn’t been to ones here in years past, but compared to others in the world, she was spot on. And the best part about the whole day every year is really that it’s one big benefit for our desperately needed Venice Family Clinic. Good begets good.

We love you, Venice! Thanks, as ever, for the FUN!

Endeavour Doing Doughnuts Over Venice

By CJ Gronner

The Space Shuttle Endeavour made its final voyage September 21st, and it was pretty great to see. My brother Rich back in Minnesota reminded me to go out and look for it, and as I made my way to the beach, I saw that it was the talk of the town.

The Venice pier and the beach were packed with sky gazers of all ages, and it made it extra exciting that a bunch of kids were out on field trips to see the fly-over, and their hyped up yells made the whole experience that much more awesome, in the true sense of the word.

The kids played ball, the old folks set up camp chairs … I set up my towel and sunscreened it up to await the arrival of Endeavour.

Everyone stared skyward and it felt like maybe nothing would happen, when all of a sudden, one of the teachers yelled “KIDS! Here it comes!” They all ran screaming towards the shore, everyone else stood up and shielded their eyes from the bright sunny perfectly blue sky … looking … and then there it was, accompanied by two little (looking) jets.

A cheer went up from the pier, and we all stood and watched the massive spaceship fly over Venice.

It was unexpectedly moving, I guess because it made you think about space exploration and adventure and the possibility of dreams, and of times when the sky really was the limit.

Also moving because it was again something like the eclipse a few months ago, where people from all walks of life came together to observe something bigger than ourselves for a moment.

We watched it go overhead, and as soon as the chills subsided, the kids packed up to go back to school, folks streamed back off the pier to get back to work, people got on their phones to tell their friends about it, and I closed my eyes to think about this massive Universe.

Before I got too deep into my head, I heard a guy yell, “Here she comes again!” and sure enough, here came Endeavour for another buzz over. My friend Brandon wrote that Endeavour was “doing doughnuts over Venice” – Ha!

Thanks for the thrill, Endeavour … and here’s to the dreamer in all of us.

Venice Is Best When the Kids Are Happy

By CJ Gronner

The minute I heard about 826 LA opening in Venice back in 2005, I was on board. I have adored author Dave Eggers since reading his wonderful memoir, A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius, and gobbled up every word he’s written since. He founded 826 Valenica in San Francisco to offer tutoring and creative writing adventures to kids after school, and when it became such a success, it was almost no time before chapters began opening up across the country. As L.A. is so spread out, we are lucky enough to have two locations, one in Echo Park, and one right here in Venice, upstairs in the SPARC building (though they’ll soon be moving a bit more east on Venice Boulevard).

I painted chairs and helped assemble Ikea furniture alongside Mr. Eggers to get the Venice location open, and then volunteered with them at Animo Inglewood to get a book by those kids out in a project collaboration with former Lakers coach, Phil Jackson. It was called Rhythm Of The Chain, and it was awesome. Then I got all busy with life and work and stuff and wasn’t able to get to 826 during tutoring hours, but have kept track of them over the ensuing years, and am always impressed.

When I went to check them out again recently, I was beyond impressed. I was floored. That the tutoring room is PACKED with kids, all excited and bright eyed and eager to learn, to a kid. There is a happy buzz in the room of controlled chaos, as the kids (from 6-18) get help from extra nice and helpful adult volunteers with their homework and creative writing stories. And they have FUN learning. 826 also offers class field trips to schools, free workshops, In-School programs, Young Authors’ Book Projects, English Language Learner Summer Camp, Spoken Word Summer Camp, they publish a newspaper by the kids (The Venice Wave), have their own publishing brand (Dogtown Press), and help high school students with preparing College essays. All of this is free, all of it is non-profit, and all of it is so inspiring, your heart swells just sitting there observing.

As I did one recent day, and watched all the fun, creative interaction between kids and tutors, and the light bulbs popping on as things got figured out, and ideas came to life. Once the kids finish their day’s homework, they settle in to write fun stories. As these stories get closer to completion, they move up a basket, and when a child’s story is ready for the top basket, all action stops, an announcement is made to the entire room, and that beaming, proud child gets to clang a bell in celebration of their story.

Two little guys were so small they had to climb up on a desk and jump to ring the bell, and you could tell they’d been bursting at the seams to do it. Their faces as they received the applause from their peers and the grown-ups were a sheer delight to behold, as you could see them see their own potential … and it’s looking pretty bright for them. (These finished stories will then be part of a reading the students participate in at Beyond Baroque to share with their friends and family).

Speaking of bright, ALL of the kids I spoke to said that they were doing much better in school since attending 826. One little 5th grade girl I talked to named Melisha, full of energy and spilling over happiness, said simply, “It’s a great place to write”. She should know, as she attends 826 every day they’re open, and loves it. I asked her what she loves most about Venice, and she said, “826 LA”. Whoa. I said, “More than the beach?” A very firm, “Yes”. Now THAT is impressive. She continued, “I get 3′s and 4′s every time because of coming here. 826 LA made me gifted. My Mom was so happy. Now I want to learn more to make my advanced level higher,” she said with excited eyes blazing. I high-fived her for that, and for talking to me, and she went back to her volunteer, saying, “I’m done with my meeting.” Ready to get back to it. How very great.

As I have found with my previous creative writing teachings with kids, their purity and unabashed honesty in writing makes your own writing better. I spoke with volunteer named Lili Flanders, a writer now in her fifth year of tutoring at 826, and she wholeheartedly agreed. She said, “I fell in love with the creative cacophony that is 826 … It amazes me the turnaround you’ll see in kids from being here for two hours a day.” She explained that the young people running the place are very impressive, (like Birte Klug and Lauren Humphrey, who were my hostesses for the afternoon) care deeply about grass-roots education, and they give you everything you need to be a volunteer, including a true feeling of appreciation every time. Because the first rule of 826 is that everyone is there because they WANT to be, students and volunteers alike.  Lili went on to say, “Being here gives these kids power over their craft, and it’s really happy learning …

The connection with the kids is the reward, and I usually leave here dizzy and happy and having used every bit of me and my time.” What a satisfying feeling!

The proof of 826′s success is in those little happy, proud, inquisitive faces … and their grades. Given attention, encouragement, knowledge, and respect, kids thrive. It’s plainly obvious that 826 offers all of this, in abundance. When parents arrive to pick up their children, it’s a happy reunion as they hear their kid gush about what they did that day. As a busy, working parent … what a joy to know your child is not only learning, but thrilled about it. Everyone wins in this place.

A recent chap book published by the 826LA kids (through their “Barnacle & Barnacle Publishers”) was titled Is Venice Beautiful In The Night? featuring stories by the young writers about Venice, California and Venice, Italy. I would answer that Venice is extremely beautiful at all times, but maybe never more so than on a golden afternoon, from 3-6, with the sun streaming in over the kids of our town, as they write about what they love.

This is a perfectly wonderful organization, and they can always use more volunteers and donations. Contact them at IWANTTOHELP@826LA.org and feel wonderful about it.

826LA – Venice

685 Venice Boulevard

Venice, 90291

310.305.8418

Skateboarding is Not a Crime

By CJ Gronner

There was a rally August 22 for Ronald Weekley, Jr., the kid that was beaten by police August 18th for skateboarding on the wrong side of the street. In Venice, California. That alone should tell you how wrong it is.

How horrifying is it that this can still happen in this day and age! And how inspiring and chill inducing it was to be there this afternoon with a Venice community that CARES, and is demanding action.

Weekley, Jr.’s skater friends were there, his classmates, his neighbors, the news, and people that had never heard of him before this despicable incident, came out in support on a gorgeous Venice afternoon, as cars of strangers drove by and honked their support.

The police line is that the young skater was violating traffic code by skating down the wrong side of the street (who hasn’t?), and then resisting arrest for this blatantly heinous crime (who wouldn’t?!). Then it was somehow decided to have four cops beat him up. In broad daylight. In front of his home that he was skating back to. He has a concussion, a broken cheek, jaw and nose, and frankly, he looked a little like a Picasso painting as he stood in front of the crowd at the rally. For SWB. (“Skateboarding While Black”, as one of the speakers said, and which appears to be so sad, but awfully true. Sorry, but you consider the neighborhood, the kid doing nothing anyone else doesn’t do every day in Venice, and it really does look like his afro was his main problem. Which sickens me just to type). His father said that his son had thought he was going to die. In front of his own home. For SKATING!

Weekley Jr’s very well-spoken and unbelievably calm, considerate father, Ronald Weekley, Sr., addressed the gathered crowd and brought tears to my eyes with his considerate and heart-felt words. He clearly loves his community, and wants kids of ALL colors to skate safely in Venice. He said people have asked what the family wants, and it is simply to have their son’s charges dropped (he had to spend a night in County Jail without visiting a hospital first!), and the police officers that committed the crimes against Weekley, Jr. identified and charged publicly. In other words, JUSTICE. Which IS what we want, and we do want it NOW, as the chant went.

Mr. Weekley, Sr. went on to say that they hold no vengeance, no hate, and they are practicing forgiveness, but “forgiveness in context”. That’s right. He asked for skaters around California (and the World) to join together to combat police oppression, and “Redefine what it means to protect and serve!” That got a round of applause, as did most everything everyone said. When we weren’t crying.

Like I was when Weekley, Jr. took the microphone stand and cried himself as he very softly said, “Don’t be angry at what happened … Just help people that need it.” What a special young man, that he already lives in a place of forgiveness, and is himself moving on to looking how to help others.

Obviously we have a big problem with police using excessive force in this country. It happens far too often to deny it. Now the press has it out that Weekley Jr. had warrants out for traffic misdemeanors  (that almost everyone in Los Angeles has also had), but who cares? Police can’t tell you have warrants by looking at you, and warrants don’t equal beatings, even in our antiquated law books. The Weekleys have retained Benjamin Crump to help them, the same attorney who is handling the Trayvon Martin case. The Nation Of Islam were there today, standing in solidarity in their bow ties, and their spokesman Tony Muhammad reiterated that “This is not about color, this is about justice.”

Reverend Al Sharpton called the family, and let them know that the whole nation is watching Venice now because of this. Venice 2000 and the Venice Neighborhood Council were both represented, and all claimed to be in it “for the long haul.” Police need to be re-trained in cultural sensitivity, and as their Pastor, Horace Alan, of Westminster Baptist said, “We are ALL human beings … and human beings need to be treated better than laws.” Amen.

Weekley, Sr. took the microphone again in closing, and expressed his family’s gratitude for everyone there, for this “Community of HUMAN BEINGS”, and again said all they want is for kids to be FREE to live and play safely in Venice. Everyone wants that. For it to be the police themselves making that NOT the case is abhorrent, and Venice won’t stand for it, I can tell you that. Over-zealous, over-steroided, over-whatever their problem is cops will not be tolerated here. Where skateboarding is definitely NOT a crime.

The press conference wrapped and one of the young skaters started up the Justice chant as Weekley Jr. was surrounded by press wanting more from him.

The chant evolved into “Peace From The Police!” as the group made their way down 6th Street, holding signs that read “Justice 4 Ron!” and the best one, “PEACE for Ron!” To quote everyone there, …. “YEAH!”

Venice – Where Art Meets Sublime

By CJ Gronner

The Hammer Museum came down to put on the “Venice Beach Biennial” (which the materials all keep calling a “tongue in cheek” play on the Venice Biennale in Italy – Thanks, we get it.), where a bunch of “Museum” artists joined the Venice artists that are down on the Boardwalk every day, to showcase both styles of art. But art is ALL art, no?

There was a real old style Carnival in Windward Circle put on, interestingly, I thought, by the LAPD. Interesting, considering there are always talks about budget cuts and not enough officers to get the jobs done, but they can throw up a bunch of rides and man-power to watch all the additional people said carny rides bring out? Is it perhaps a little bit to help the image, or what? Interesting, that’s all I’m saying.

I’m not that into rides that are thrown up in a few days, so that whole deal was pretty much a bike through all weekend, but I’m glad the little kids had fun.  The great thing for me was seeing the focus on ART again at the beach. On the beach artists, to be specific, as though the Hammer project brought their artists down, they were not nearly as visible as the people crafting and selling their work every day of the week down there. Aside from the big show pieces nearest Windward Circle, it was nearly impossible to differentiate who came from where … it was just ALL art. And beautiful. If you couldn’t get down there, let me take you on a little stroll of the day with me. Imagine the sun warming your back as you walked, the sea salt breeze making it all perfectly comfortable, music everywhere, and the childhood smells of a day at the beach … except with the sage, incense, and weed smoke moments of now.

The day was so gorgeous out, it was a piece of art unto itself. One thing about the Hammer works was that they weren’t labeled or identified in any way other than a dot on a map they gave out, so people weren’t really sure what they were looking at. So I guess it was just look and enjoy.

Big Easter Island Moai sculptures by Alex Israel had everyone taking attention away from the skaters in the Skatepark for a minute. So cool.

Big pink balloons marked booths where artists were being featured by the VB Biennial, but most of them appeared to be the people that can usually be found down there, like colorful pieces by SKY (Stacey Kai Young).

I spoke to Arthure “Art” Moore who was the featured artist on the materials for the VB Biennial, with his Funky Pussy painting as the logo for the whole deal. He was stoked on it all, and said that the Boardwalk artists were selling more than ever, and really being recognized for their work. VENICE was being recognized as a destination for art again, and that was important to everyone involved. I saw plenty of people holding their own version of Funky Pussy, so Moore, with his homemade eye patch, was taking full advantage of his new celebrity.

In fact, we couldn’t chat too long as we were constantly interrupted by people who wanted their photo with him. Moore was happy to oblige and offered up his signature middle finger (with a smile) to all passersby and tourist photographers. Very Venice, very awesome.

Thank goodness Rara Superstar was back from showing his art all over Ibiza in time to partake in the Biennial, as his colorful pieces are a crucial part of the Boardwalk landscape. He too was kept busy all day taking photos with people and selling them a new memory for their home collections, while reminding them that “Love always wins”.

The day could not have been more pristine, so it was a complete pleasure to amble along and spend more time than you normally would really looking at everything. The bright sunny mood was infectious, and people were open and friendly and into it. One of those days like what could be bad.

All the art looked great against such a beautiful beachy background, that it made you want to get a piece from everyone you passed by. I made a lot of notes on who to return to when I need a perfectly Venice gift for someone. I think a lot of that was going on, really. What better souvenir to bring someone back than a piece of art from someone most likely painting it right there off the sand?

There were street performers and Hammer performers (none of whom did I see all day), and I was stoked to get my own little rap from Dr. Geek … Hey, Blondie, I like the way you wear your laundry … Rad.

Ibrahim was performing in full voice and drums down by the Venice Bistro, and it gave the day a wonderfully authentic soundtrack of badassness.

Art showed up in all mediums, from paintings to jewelry to crazy little heads of figures from Bob Marley to Wilma Flintstone, if that was your thing.

Humor was everywhere – also very Venice – as even the Funky Pussy official materials were pretty funny. Some guys were hawking “Official Bum signs – For just 1 dollar you can own your own bum sign!” yelled some very official looking gentlemen who had made funny cardboard signs for your purchasing pleasure. They wouldn’t let me take a photo. Of course.

I was just beaming all day at how fun and cool life can be, especially here in Venice. I think the best thing I overheard all day was from a middle aged couple – clearly tourists -  walking down the Boardwalk. The man said, “I think we’re going the wrong way.” The woman smiled and said, “I think we’re in the right place to be going the wrong way.

Exactly. She got it. I get it. In that moment, we got each other. And that’s what days like these are all about.

Evicted Family Camps Out At Former Home

By CJ Gronner

The Gonzalez family had lived at 1033 Abbot Kinney Boulevard in Venice since 1953, when it was still called West Washington Boulevard. Mr. Gon- zalez worked hard as a gardener at the Fox Hills Golf Course. He saved up, bought his home in Venice, and owned it outright, free and clear. He and his wife raised 10 kids in that house, which was built in 1904, a year before Abbot Kinney even officially pro- claimed the land “Venice”.

The kids all went to Venice schools, worked and played in Venice, at a time when no one locked their doors, you talked to your neighbors on the streets, and the whole town would turn up for concerts or Thanksgiving dinners at the Venice Pavilion. They were happy times, and four generations of the Gon- zalez family lived in their home. Then Mr. Gonzalez died. Then Mrs. Gonzalez died. Then it all fell apart.

I’d seen the family out in their front yard for years, saying hello as we’d pass by on our way to Lilly’s restaurant next door. The house was starting to show the wear and tear of passing years, but I always liked that there was a regular old house on Abbot Kinney, full of lawn art and wind chimes, in stark defiance to all the change and gentrification stuff going on up and down the street. They weren’t going anywhere. Then one day the family was camping out in their car. Then under a tarp on the side of the house. Then one day the entire house was gone, razed to the ground, and the people had set up camp on the sidewalk in front of the house. They STILL weren’t going anywhere. After seeing this go on for about 6 months or so, I was going by on my way to Joe’s (for the excellent Artist & Architect show curated by Tibby Rothman – great!) a few weeks ago, and de- cided just to ask the woman sitting there what was going on.

Adele Gonzalez lived in her family home on Ab- bot Kinney since her father moved the family in when she was 8 years old. Now 64, Adele told me her rough story as we sat on the curb in front of her now vacant lot of family memories, where she has slept since the whole nightmare began.

I wanted this to be a story about how The Man came in and forced out a poor family, something I could rage against, and shine light upon another shady housing scandal. This is not that story. Adele has a wayward brother, who after learning some swindling techniques during a prison stay, screwed the rest of his family out of both their family home and any proceeds from it (which online public re- cords show sold for 1.3 million in 2010 to an un- known buyer). As we all well know, there’s not a lot you can do to sort out other peoples’ family dramas, but what we can do is clear up the hurtful rumors and check ourselves a bit as neighbors and members of the Venice community.

Adele would laugh at me using the word that I so often do regarding Venice – “Community”. She doesn’t think it exists in Venice any longer, but I think it’s more a case of her not BELONGING to the community. Folks waving to each other from table to table at Gjelina, or in line for coffee at Abbot’s Habit would certainly argue for the existence of community among Venetians. Dog park people and Kid park people and yoga class goers and the surf line-up and the Skatepark and the Boardwalk, all of us have a sense of place and belonging here after a while. But to hear Adele talk about her family situation, all sense of community for them dried up the minute they were booted from their home.

And booted they were. They were given about 20 minutes to gather their things and get out. A sister had missed a couple of loan payments she had taken out for home repairs (wasted money and effort as the house was bulldozed shortly thereafter), and that cre- ated the opening the brother needed to swoop in and sell the thing. It’s kind of a murky tale how it all came down, but that’s not really the important part of the story. It’s how they’ve been treated after the fact.

Adele is not a fan of Bill Rosendahl or his home- less programs. She is not a fan of Officer Skinner and her colleagues, who they feel harassed by (they were given two tickets in one week for having their things in found grocery carts – considered stolen. How are they supposed to pay these tickets when they’re just trying to get money for food?!). She is not a fan of the Baptist minister next door, who told them they couldn’t keep their things on the side of the church, as it “might attract more homeless people.” Adele doesn’t take kindly to being called “homeless” as she sits outside of what was her family’s home for over half a century, and added, “God never turns anyone away.” Yeah.

So they sit there and refuse to leave. Adele sits there and hears people go by talking about them as if they’re not there. They’ve been laughed at and called awful names, heard stories about how there were crazy hoarders living there, someone got killed in there, they had to condemn it, on and on, and not true and extremely painful to hear when you know, more than almost anybody, every bit of history – HISTORY – of this place we ALL want to live in and love. It’s awfully hard to swallow, one can imagine. For all of these nasty comments and slights, there are the occa- sional folk who come by and offer help or a bottle of water or five bucks to get a sandwich, and of them, Adele says, “They helped me, and God is going to help them. Think about it, one day you might be where I am, so don’t judge me or my family. Only God judges.”

There’s something to be said for yanking up your bootstraps, and making things happen for yourself, even when you’ve been screwed over, because that can and will happen to everyone. I’m not sure what

went wrong with the Gonzalez family internally to get them to where they are – Adele, her two grown sons, and two sisters are all camped together on the sidewalk, even right now as you read. I’m also very well aware of the attitude some have towards “the homeless” based on well-founded fear from bad ex- periences with some of the Mad Max style, tough customer homeless roaming the beach area, or just small-minded fear based on personal property value stuff. Adele’s father taught her to never lie or steal, and as she sees it, her only crime is being poor. Be- lieve me, from sitting and talking with Adele and her family, they do not WANT to be on the street. They do not want to be in the way of your fancy stroller coming down the sidewalk. They do not want to be starving on the sidewalk just down from some of the posher restaurants in town. They need help. They just don’t know how to ask for it after living right there in their house for so long.

Shelters take women with young children first. There’s a waiting list that older women with grown and troubled sons idle at the bottom of. Adele is tired, and cold every night. Her sons need work, which could vastly help the situation, but it’s hard to secure work without an address and not much else but the clothes on your back. Adele has her birth certificate, and the original deed to the house. She doesn’t know hardly anything about the laws or real estate issues, but an “Advocate” from the city is “supposed to” come and see Adele to try and help them. She doesn’t plan on going anywhere until some of this is straight- ened out, if it even still can be. They need to be more pro-active, but that’s easier said than done when you’ve slept outside all night, are sore, tired, hungry and have no means to get anywhere.

Adele cried when she watched her childhood home bulldozed in front of her face on Easter week- end, as she watched from the cracked concrete where she now sleeps. She stays put out of defiance, to make a point, to HANG IN THERE. But she can’t keep this up. It’s cold, uncomfortable, unhealthy, ugly living. I find it admirable, in a FUCK YOU, I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME! kind of way, but I also find it heartbreakingly sad. That people would hurt each other so, even from within family. That people would react to them so heartlessly in the aftermath. And also, that they would settle for this kind of life for themselves. They’re willing and able to accept help, if anyone in housing or law or that kind of thing can give it. There has to be a solution, and a willingness, from both the family and the community, to DO SOMETHING. I believe that’s what we’re all here for after all, EACH OTHER.

I’m reminded of a quote from Billie Holiday, that just lays it all out bare … “You’ve got to have some- thing to eat and a little love in your life before you can hold still for any damn body’s sermon on how to behave.”

Yeah. 

Everything is Normal in Venice

By CJ Gronner

I was in project mode one recent Saturday, and found myself poking around in Lincoln Hardware, getting ready to paint a chair bright red. I looked up from my deciding to see my friend and Venice impresario, Danny Samakow, all excited and on a mission. He told me that the next day was going to be the best solar eclipse of our lifetime, and he was on his way to the Valley to buy a whole bunch of special glasses to view the spectacle through. Awesome. I told him I’d see him tomorrow, and we split our separate ways. I painted and thought about how much I love Danny’s sense of “School Spirit,” for lack of a better term.

He is always organizing and facilitating fun in the name of Venice and its people. I mean, who wants to and then actually DOES drive to the Valley on their Saturday to get special glasses to make something more fun for others? Then offers up special Eclipse drink deals at Danny’s Deli and gives any glasses donation money to AIDS research? Danny Samakow that’s who. He reminds me of a friend of mine from college who once showed up with massive amounts of glow sticks that we broke open to fling the light stuff around our walls and play (toxic) glow tag with. He would say, “There’s nothing worse than running out of fun.” Danny is that same type of dude. A real gem, and Spirit of Venice preservationist who we should all thank every time we see him and his wonderful team/s. For real.

Sunday was weird out all day alternating fog and sun. Most Venice people I spoke to were Art Walk crowd avoiding, and doing their own thing. Which is why it was so great to get down to the beach just in time for the maximum of the eclipse (6:38 pm!) and see absolutely everyone gazing skyward, collectively sharing the phenomenon.

And a phenomenon it was! The fog muted the whole thing, and made it so you didn’t really need the special glasses (but probably should have worn anyway) to see the super trippy eclipse go down. People were sharing the glasses bought at Danny’s Deli (About $1,000 bones made for AIDS research!) with strangers and passersby. It was hard to capture in photos, as was the electricity you felt in those moments of group excitement.

There aren’t that many events, especially natural ones, that bring a whole people together in the name of just seeing something cool, and way bigger than us. This was such an evening, and the beating of the drum circle in the distance only made it all feel more tribal. Heavy and joyous at the same time, which is what life itself is, after all.

To celebrate, we hit all three of Danny’s joints, and wound up at the Canal Club inventing what may be the drink for Summer ’12. A mango margarita with pepper infused tequila! So it tastes just like when you get a mango from a fruit cart person and they put the chili powder on it, and it’s a perfect fiesta in your mouth. We called it “The Eclipse.” Try it. And HAPPY SUMMER 2012 in Venice!!!

Here’s to never running out of fun!

Adventures with the Landlord

By CJ Gronner

Everyone knows I love Venice, and always will. I’ve just become a little dismayed at the direction things seem to be heading these days, and feel like it should be discussed, pondered and helped.

I recently had to move out of the rent-controlled apartment I’d lived in since the late 90’s. I had a nightmare of a situation for years with an overly entitled landlord who liked to let himself into my place whenever he liked and do whatever he felt like, which I don’t even like to think about. I had witnesses/neighbors tell me about seeing him go in and stay for an hour or so. I’d have friends stay over with just the guest key that works in the doorknob come back and be locked out because both locks were locked – meaning he’d been in there again. I make my bed each day like a military person, and I’d come home to see a sitting mark he hadn’t even bothered to smooth out, right next to my pile of laundry.

My brother once awoke from a nap to find him coming out of my bedroom, and when startled upon seeing my brother, made up some thing about checking smoke detectors. The last time I know of it happening for sure, I was at home at my desk writing and heard keys in the doorknob, but I’d dead-bolted it so he couldn’t get in. Scary! I confronted him and he made up something about needing to look at the plumbing. Yeah. Right. We all know this is illegal. I stayed because it was old school cheap rent. Rents for tiny little bachelors were now more than I paid for a two bedroom, and when I confronted him about it, he lowered my rent even further. Uh, guilty.

It’s a long, ugly story that finally wound up in civil court for our rent dispute (He should be in criminal court, of course, but we never got that video proof the police, the Housing Board, tenant lawyers, et al wanted. My word against his. His spendy lawyer versus me representing myself, plus I’m so over it and never want to deal with the guy again in my lifetime …). It’s really a blessing in a great disguise. I put up with that deviant situation for WAAAAAY too long, all because Venice has gotten so expensive over the years, and writing is a very financially up and down life choice, so I played it “safe”. Which turned out to be very unsafe, by the very person I was paying for years to live in a safe place. Yep.

So I got out. I’m extra blessed to have some fantastic Venice friends who invited me to stay at their place while they were away, while I looked for a new place. NOT easy, considering how much Venice has changed since I last house-hunted, and truthfully, how greedy people have become. Total shit holes are going for $3,000 a month! Good luck with that. Anyway, Moving Day came and I had to put over a decade’s worth of stuff into storage (after I’d already put most of the stuff out on the curb and watched it disappear immediately. This was fun. I’d do little themes – a straw hat, a hula-hoop and a ukulele. Art supplies and paper. A cowboy hat and boots. On and on and all gone in 60 seconds. Signs of the times, I suppose. I only saw one of the people who actually took the stuff, but he seemed jazzed.).

I’d heard all about the raids/sweeps on the homeless living on that stretch of 3rd and Rose that has become a bit of a West Side Skid Row, where the police come through and throw all of peoples’ worldly possessions in the trash if they’re not watching them themselves. It was a cold and rainy day and I had a whole bunch of freshly laundered blankets, towels, old jackets and stuff that could go to Goodwill, or straight to the people that really need them. So, upon leaving the storage building at 4th and Rose with my two dear friends who were helping me move, I got out on 3rd and went up to the nearest guy sitting on the sidewalk, explained I knew about the raids, and asked if he wanted to take whatever he wanted and share the rest with people on the block. He was stoked, I felt better, everybody wins.

Until driving away about a block later, we see police lights flash behind us to pull over. Great. As if I hadn’t already been having the longest day possible, and was nowhere near done. My friends are Aussies and were driving a borrowed pickup, so the “license and registration” request was already out of the norm. I was in the backseat of the cab, and we were all asked for our licenses. One cop was on the driver’s side, the other on the passenger. The passenger side one was a little dickhead who I’ll forever regret not noting his name, but I was upset and forgot to. Here’s why.

“The reason I pulled you over was you were just seen leaving a high narcotic trafficking zone. What business did you have there?”

“Oh, we’re helping my mate move.”

“Uh huh. Have you met her before today? What’s her name?”

“Uh, CJ”

I mean the guy was implying I was a crack whore right to my face!! I know I was in sweats and no makeup with pigtails, but I don’t think I fit the casting, even so. I was getting SEETHING mad, and then -

“We have undercover agents working in the area, who saw you in an exchange with a man on the street.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about the sweeps on the homeless here, and I’m moving, so I gave them a bunch of blankets and stuff. It’s cold and raining.”

“What did you get in exchange?”

Uh, a warm heart. Is this guy kidding me?! Then his smarmy little mouth I wanted to slap comes up with this outrageous deal -

“Ma’am, are you out on parole? On probation?”

“No, Sir.” (That took everything I had to not just unleash the fury I had building, but I didn’t need it to get worse, as I still had a whole household to move and very limited time)

“Have you been taking narcotics today? Been drinking? The reason I’m asking is why are your eyes so dilated?”

Hmmm … I don’t know, maybe because I’m exhausted, have been crying, have had no sleep, am having one of the most stressful times of my life. Oh, and shooting heroin real quick while I’m moving heavy items. WHAT?!?! I was PISSED. So he took our licenses back to the cop car and did whatever they do, while my friends urged me to remain calm. After a bunch of minutes, they came back and returned our licenses, asked some more b.s. questions about where did I live, where was I moving to, and suggested we avoid the area in the future. I couldn’t even look at the guy. If I ever see him off-duty, it’s on. Getting accused of being a crack whore for giving away clean blankets to the homeless?! I’ve really heard it all now.

This is what concerns me … If people are going to get in trouble for trying to help the homeless, then they won’t. They’ll stop trying. And then what becomes of us as a society? It’s already happening, obviously, but it doesn’t have to be this way. Venice began as a bohemian place for artists and writers and musicians and creative people that moved here because the rents were cheap and there was a true spirit of fun, camaraderie, and the art of living that set it apart from anywhere else. We cannot let that die. I’m pretty sure no one WANTS to be homeless. It always helps to try on someone else’s shoes before you judge – or bust – them. Landlords don’t HAVE to jack up rents just because they can. That disgusting “Silicon Beach” nickname being tossed around/Google moving in doesn’t have to squelch out the whimsical flame that has always burned here. Every store and restaurant doesn’t have to be fancy and insanely overpriced – those are choices. Choices based on greed.

There is a reason the Occupy Movement began across the country and the entire world, and all of the above illustrates why perfectly. The greed of some cannot be sustained. There will be an implosion. The ones who have always had each other’s backs will be the ones who continue to, and the ones who turned their backs will regret it in the end. That’s why I wasn’t too bothered ultimately about my creepy landlord deal, because after all is said and done, I still get to be me, and he has to fester in his dirty skin and mind. People who help others get to feel good, and the ones who don’t, well … I don’t really know, ‘cause that’s never been me, but I can’t imagine it’s at all rewarding at the end of it all to have a fat bank account with an empty heart.

I always go back to my favorite Einstein quote, as it’s really all that matters … “Remember your humanity, and forget the rest.” Amen. Let us hope that Venice can remember not only its humanity, but its origins, and remain true to who we should and can be.

Love, Your Venice Crack Whore – with a heart of gold.

Jin Patisserie Makes Venice Sweeter

By CJ Gronner

It’s quite simple to celebrate Women in Venice, when there are so many wonderful, creative, business-savvy women making up our place in the world. I can think of more women-run businesses than I have fingers: Ananda, the Beauty Bungalows (Alexandra Wagner Skincare, Lavish Tan, Kelley Baker Brows, Stephanie Hobgood Hair all under one roof!), The Green House, Marla’s Cafe, Studio Surya Yoga, Bohemian Exchange, Capri, Casa Linda, Firefly/Kid Firefly, Floral Art, French Market Cafe, Hama Sushi, Huset, Just Tantau, Primitivo, Small World Books, Strange Invisible Perfumes, Trim, Urban Escape, Zingara … and that’s just off the top of my head. Strong women, each day making our community a great place to be. I was thinking about our Women’s Issue, and that fact that we could all use a little more sweetness in our lives lately, so I thought it was time to find out the story behind Kristy Choo’s Jin Patisserie.

There might not be a better place in the whole world for perfect chocolate than Jin Patisserie, and I can walk there. Serving up the most exquisite pastries and gorgeous, delicious chocolates since 2003 on Abbot Kinney. Jin is a true local treasure.

Kristy Choo was born and raised in Singapore. She always loved to bake (me too!), but craved travel and adventure (me too!), so never really saw herself working in a kitchen. She became a flight attendant to satisfy some of her wanderlust, but kept thinking about what she truly loved to do, and that was to create wondrous dessert delights.

To that end, Choo decided to attend the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco, where she focused on pastry. She then went back to Singapore and worked in a hotel there, furthering her training, and joined the Singapore National Team for pastry competition, meaning she was really, really good at what she did. She was also married by then, and her husband’s work kept him in Los Angeles, and the long distance thing was hard. Choo decided she needed to join her husband in L.A., and that was when she started thinking about opening a little place of her own.

Driving around Venice one day, Choo saw the space recently vacated by The Hydrant Cafe was available on Abbot Kinney. It was a little cottage with a courtyard, just about the perfect size for what she had been envisioning. Venice was also perfect, in her feeling, as she explains, “I liked the FEEL of Venice. It wasn’t pretentious, people are comfortable with themselves here.” Exactly.

Choo started the process from scratch (like her pastries), knowing nothing about the ins and outs of starting her own business, and she did it all herself. After the usual rigmarole with city inspectors, permits, suppliers and the like (”Crazy!”), Choo opened for business in September 2003, and has been blowing our minds with her concoctions ever since.

It kind of amazes me that even many people that live right in the neighborhood have never been to Jin (named after Choo’s middle name). It IS kind of hidden behind its tall gate, and you have to walk through the garden past the cherry blossoms to get into the little house where all the treasures are displayed, but it is just truly not to be missed.

Jin serves exotic and wonderful teas, little tea sandwiches and quiches (lovely for birthdays or the shower type event) but the real masterpieces are the desserts. Choo originally wanted to only do desserts, but after learning the local needs/wants/habits, decided to give people the choice of savory before diving right into the sweet, if they want. Many of us have no problem skipping right ahead to the sweet bliss, all made right there in the Jin kitchen.

Like – our number one favorite – Sea Salt Caramels. There is also a cake called “Inspiration” that is a sea salt chocolate caramel dream. The macaroons are too much – brightly colored little rounds of melting-in-your-mouth deliciousness (again, get the sea salt caramel one of those too!). The artistic chocolates (packaged so beautifully you don’t want to open the box) are ridiculous – lavender, mango-basil, yuzu, cinnamon, Earl Grey, passion fruit, lychee, each better than the next – and perhaps the best possible hostess gift ever. No one will ever be mad at receiving a box from Jin, I assure you. The number of bags from Jin cruising up and down Abbot Kinney on Valentine’s Day this year made it clear that the local people know what’s up for impressing their loved ones. Likewise, Choo’s chocolate Easter eggs are flawless works of art that I like to just stare at each year. Remarkable.

There was a Jin location for a while in Century City in the Intercontinental Hotel (closed last year), and a Valentine collaboration with Japanese department stores, but Choo is most happy in her little house in Venice, welcoming the locals and tourists alike who share her love for the original qualities of our town. She likes that her shop is unique, that people can only get her creations here in Venice. How lucky we are!

Choo hopes that Venice “won’t be like other places. Venice is a precious part of Los Angeles. Everywhere else people look the same, here they have PERSONALITY.” Now that Choo and her husband have a child, she doesn’t get the time to enjoy Venice as much, but has noticed all the changes taking place along Abbot Kinney, like we all have. She can’t stand First Fridays (again, like most of us nowadays), and really prefers the older school way things were (ditto). But, also like most of us feel, the personality of place really outshines all the rest, and Choo’s local regulars are now her friends. She can’t picture her little chocolate factory anywhere else. She loves it here. We love having her here.

Try this … maybe you’re having a little challenge of some sort. Go to Jin. Pick something out, anything from the pastry or chocolate case. Take it with you down to the beach. Look out over the horizon. Let the breeze wash over you and the sweet dissolve in your mouth. Even if just for that moment, everything will be so much better. It really is about the simple pleasures in life. And Jin has them for you in abundance.

Venice Artist David Phillips

By CJ Gronner

I first learned about the art of David Phillips in probably the best way possible. I was walking down the beach last year when I came upon this crazy piece of art (that I now know is called “Birth”) just sitting there in the sand.

It had the curious name “Wino-Strut” across the front of it, compelling enough for me to write a little story about it at the time. Then I got an email from the artist – David Phillips – who somehow had seen my Blogtown article, and contacted me to invite me to his studio. THEN I got a random email from a reader – Matt – that they had come upon some more Wino Strutting on the beach and thought I might find it interesting. I did.

So time flies and things pile up and I didn’t get to the studio, but then I got an invitation from Phillips to the Hotel Erwin for his opening during the Art Crawl last summer.

I went; it was great, and I had a new friend in Mr. Phillips. But I still didn’t know the whole story. So a bunch more time passed, exchanging messages and trying to find a time to sit down and tell the tale, until it’s a new year and you gotta make things happen, so we finally sorted it out and here we go. Phillips is from Tulsa, Oklahoma (Sooners!). His Grandmother was a painter, so from a very early age, Phillips knew that he too wanted to be a painter – in fact, he started with oils. He grew up and wanted a larger audience for his art than perhaps Oklahoma offered, so “Art brought me here” – here being Venice, California. He had come out and stayed on a friend’s couch in Venice, and knew that was the only place that made sense for him to settle. Which he did, right on Abbot Kinney. He got a job as a PA, which let him afford to get a studio (which he says is in Venice, but really it’s Marina Del Rey…Ha.) and he was off to the races.

Phillips would load up his truck with paintings and just hound gallery owners to see his stuff. Soon enough, after not taking no for an answer ever (”I was gonna be a painter whether they liked it or not!”), he got a gallery rep. This led to a spot on CBS News about his art, and he’s been able to work on his painting full-time ever since. He IS a painter.

At this point, we decided to leave the beach-adjacent studio and conduct our interview on the sand. I thought this appropriate as it’s where I first discovered his work, and I feel great guilt and oppression over being inside when I know a remarkable sunset is shaping up outside. See below. 

He’s been hired by Urban Outfitters to do works, he gets a bunch of private commissions, but with all the edge and fun and good times and free wheelin’ vibe of the beach, he started thinking about doing art that was more accessible to an even larger audience…

Willem De Kooning is “the end all, be all for me”, says Phillips, and he recalled a story about De Kooning selling a painting (One of his “Woman” paintings, which later sold for $20 million) to a guy for a case of wine. De Kooning had to walk the outsized painting all the way uptown to claim his payment, and Phillips thought that would be called a “Wino Strut”. This would become his name for his otherwise anonymous pieces that he leaves behind. He figured why let the graffiti artists have all the fun, and maybe the next step beyond graffiti as public art would be a contemporary artist leaving behind works that people could actually take home!

This began the Wino-Strut practice and Brand of “Giving someone a HAPPENING … The experience IS the art!” So the installation like “Birth”, that first led me to this interesting fellow, and his studio. Then he painted 500 bottles, inserting painted scrolls of abstract faces inside, and placed them all along the coast, from Venice (Marina Del Rey) to Malibu, for people to discover along their morning walks and keep. This little caper did earn him a call from the LAPD, who thought that he might be planting pipe bombs all over vs. just making someone’s day. Sigh.

Phillips had just done an installation the very afternoon that we spoke, with colorful scroll paintings spilling out of a red briefcase of Casa Linda on California Ave. Rather than think of the art as fleeting, Phillips sees it more as “Disrupting someone’s monotony. This art HAPPENED. And now they have an illustration of a memory.” How great is that?

We wound up our interview back in the studio, where there are multiple works in progress, as well as lots more bottles being prepared for a 3,000 bottle onslaught, perhaps somewhere near you. I have a David Phillips bottle/scroll, and it makes me smile just to glance at it and think of the lift one like it is going to give someone else, totally unexpectedly. Another day brightener in Venice.

Phillips is a big fan of the Ferus/”Cool School” of art, and loves to mingle with those guys (Bell, Lodato, etc…) around town at Larry’s Venice, The Erwin, the Art Crawl, VENICE … and keep that inspired torch burning.

I’m so happy to know the story behind it all now, and look so forward to hearing about – or just again stumbling upon – what new hijinks Phillips has in store for the unassuming audience. He has followed his dream, and had brought fun to many in doing it. And that’s about the highest form of living one can do. May he long continue his wino strutting!