Call me a sucker for GEICO commercials. As a MarCom professional myself, I  not only admire the auto insurer’s inventiveness, but also have to confess to a tinge of jealousy at all the fun the company’s creatives must be having behind the scenes. After all, who wouldn’t want to work for a corporation with a  sense of humor so off the wall as to come up with the above spot satirizing Honest Abe and a very perturbed Mary Todd Lincoln?

Think pink!

Muffler sculptures are a staple of auto garages everywhere, but thanks to our Car Culture, they’re especially ubiquitous here in Southern California.

As an art form, more often than not they lack imagination, frequently resembling uninspired robots or clunky mechanical aliens. When you come across one that’s truly whimsical — like this Pink Panther near the corner of Lincoln and Howard in Pasadena — it’s well worth stopping for a photo and applauding the artistry.

Personally, I think the Flowmaster welding visor perfectly completes our  friend’s pink grease-monkey ensemble.

Source: Kino International

Seeking 2 hours and 45 minutes of golden silence on the silver screen? You can’t do any better than Fritz Lang’s historic 1927 film masterpiece Metropolis, now playing on the Laemmle’s Theatre circuit.

Set in the 21st Century, the silent classic envisions a futuristic world in which a seductive female android goads subterranean proletariat workers to rise up against their surface-dwelling capitalist overlords. It’s a seminal work featuring amazingly elaborate sets, art and costumes; a good deal of theological and scientific reflection; lots of over-the-top melodramatic acting common to the Silent Era; and a sumptuous original score by Gottfried Huppertz.

In fact, the New York Times has hailed the particular Kino International release screening at Laemmle’s as the film’s “definitive reconstruction.” It includes 25 minutes of recently rediscovered footage, making it the most accurate approximation of the film’s 1927 Berlin premiere currently in existence.

But be warned: Metropolis is not your typical date-night flick. It’s ponderously long, alternately engrossing and plodding, and at a few points even laughably campy — more a piece for film students, true movie buffs and the historically curious.

The upside? Metropolis is, after all, an epic within Filmdom’s Pantheon, and even the casual viewer will enjoy spotting the origins of numerous movie cliches stolen for rehash in later Hollywood works.

Your Humble Blogger

I swear this blog has more lives than a danged alley cat.

Yes, since Dateline>City of Angels was launched a few years back, it’s suffered more B-Western-style cliff hangers than any self-respectin’ blog deserves. In fact, when we last left our plucky Web journal, it was finally starting to hit its stride once more after a disastrous train wreck. That was December 2009. (See the immediate post below.)

Yet, despite all his good intentions, your humble blogger again fell silent, thanks to a major setback in his personal life. Unlike many bloggers, however, he chose not to turn that unhappy event and its messy, ongoing aftermath into salacious online entertainment for readers. (Sorry. No daily jabs at “The Ex” here.)

Instead, after a five-month recovery from his fall off his high horse, here he is, back in the saddle, feeling like a kid again, eager to take up the ‘ol blogging reins and giddy up toward exciting new frontiers. (Yes, that photo really is me, circa the 1960s.)

So let’s hit the dusty trail together, shall we? Our journey into anything and everything quirky, historic, macabre and quintessentially Angeleno starts right here tomorrow at sun-up.

See ya then, pardners!

StockXchng image.

While the rest of us were carving up our turkeys for the holiday, it appears someone — or something — in southern Colorado was engaging in an otherworldly animal carving ritual of their own.

According to this Associated Press story, “a creepy string of calf mutilations” has left local ranchers and sheriff’s officials “mystified:”

“Four calves were found dead in a pasture just north of the New Mexico state line in recent weeks. The dead calves had their skins peeled back and organs cleared from the rib cage. One calf had its tongue removed.”

For those who aren’t too squeamish, grainy pictures of the carnage can be found here. The lack of blood, guts, footprints and predator or ATV tracks at the scene has raised speculation in some quarters that the cattle may have met with a close, deadly encounter of the alien kind.

But before you laugh this whole thing off as an isolated incident in rural Colorado, check out this ranching forum, where the story has stirred some buzz. At least one “real-life” tale shared there is oddly reminiscent of killings attributed to Latin America’s fabled Chupacabra.

Meanwhile, my question has always been why alien travelers never seem to visit us in the big city, preferring instead sparsely populated desert, wilderness and plains communities. But maybe any slight toward us urbanites is completely unintentional.

Perhaps after traveling thousands of light years they merely prefer the dining experiences offered by quiet little out-of-the-way spots.

Dateline>City of Angels will resume regular posting after the holiday weekend. In the meantime, enjoy this Gloria Gaynor parody, courtesy USA Green Card Center.

A purported sighting of the elusive Sasquatch along the trails of Los Angeles’ oldest city park near Dodger Stadium. Obviously this little clip is intended as a spoof, but even if it weren’t, there’s a glaring flaw in the video that should raise astute Angeleno eyebrows.

Can you guess what it is? Here’s a clue: Look closely at the opening sequence… OK, think you got it? Give up? Either way, click the Bigfoot icon to the right for the answer.

2nd Street cable car, circa 1889. (LAPL Digital Archives, Permitted Use)

A week ago this blog brought you the news that L.A.’s streets have been ranked the nation’s third most deadly to pedestrians. But have our streets always been so mean?

Obviously, such statistics weren’t kept 117 years ago, but this April 21, 1892, Los Angeles Times “City Brief” may offer a clue:

“People should be careful about getting on or off moving cable and electric cars, especially in rounding curves. A man took a ‘header’ on Broadway last evening, coming down on the pavement with such violence as to almost dislocate his vertebrae.”

Ouch! Were these the same safe, reliable old cable and electric cars that downtowners romanticize so much today?

Photo: Flickr, Ingrid Taylor.

If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s for Tournament of Roses officials to bring a trademark “rosy optimism” to each New Year’s celebration.

For a year overshadowed by malaise like 2010 promises to be, could they have done any better to lift our spirits than naming Capt. Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger as the parade’s Grand Marshal?

Throughout the Tournament’s history, Grand Marshal honors have gone mostly to celebrities, political figures and even cartoon characters. But kudos to parade officials for recognizing a true American hero right when we need one the most.

Since safely ditching his US Airways plane in the Hudson almost a year ago, Capt. Sully has remained a humble, straightforward man — despite the sudden celebrity thrust upon him for saving all 155 people in his charge. To hear him in interviews, he’s just a guy who happened that day to be doing a job he loved to the best of his ability.

As LAist notes, the Captain’s cool post-splashdown demeanor has even earned him “stud status” and 600,000 fans on Facebook.

All that silliness aside, to me Sullenberger embodies a reminder we desperately need in 2010: That our nation is actually filled with common men and women who are somehow able to roll up their sleeves and accomplish the uncommon when the going gets tough.

I know such sentiment is considered sappy nowadays, but I’ll underscore it anyway… All too often our pop culture worships the “media heroes” enshrined in the political or sports arenas and star-studded galas peddling the latest celebrity cause. We forget that every day, guided by a steady mindset and basic human values, “ordinary” people are rising to heroic stature in their homes, workplaces and communities, rarely noticed by the media limelight. It will be refreshing to see Sullenberger metaphorically representing them at the parade.

• For a look at the Captain’s ranking among the Tournament’s 121-year parade of Grand Marshals, visit the official online roster. (Wikipedia also has a list with additional links to many of the Marshals’ bios.)

• Even more interesting is the Tournament’s photographic timeline stretching back to the very first event in 1890.

Gloria Swanson, aka Norma Desmond. Wikipedia Commons.

Like Sunset Boulevard’s fictional movie fatale Norma Desmond, I hate the word “comeback,” so let’s take her cue and call this blog’s resurrection a “return.”

After a catastrophic attempt to update WordPress over a month ago, your humble blogger was left scrambling to recover hundreds of former posts and photos and redesign Dateline>City of Angels from scratch.

Add to this an extremely busy personal schedule, and you’ve suddenly got the recipe for one very reclusive blogger. For a while even I was wondering if Dateline>City of Angels would simply wind up another blogospheric has-been.

Thankfully, no! I’ve finally hunkered down and got this site’s makeover close to where I want it. (Thanks to the new Thesis 1.6 theme, the whole design and coding phase was far easier than expected.) Even better, as I wrote in a post below, all the old entries have been recovered, at least text-wise. The re-uploading of more than 300 photos will, however, take significantly more time. (Simple math will tell you I’d have to work on 10 a day just to complete this task in a month.)

Nevertheless, to paraphrase Ms. Desmond, I’ve kept the adoring public in the dark long enough, so lights, cameras, action! Dateline>City of Angels has returned! (We’ll just consider the re-posting of all those missing photos a work in progress, OK?)

A Little Preview…

So what can you, the reader, expect from this blog moving forward?

First, no more technical fiascoes leading to lengthy hiatuses. I’ve learned my lesson: backup, backup, backup.

Plus I’m committed to more regular posting. Look for more short photo essays, pop quizzes and fun stuff peppered among the lengthier feature articles. I also plan to ramp up the podcasts in coming months, along with occasional “documentary vodcasts” on local topics.

Now also might be a good time to explain two somewhat misunderstood features that I began to experiment with before the big blog crash:

• L.A. in Quotes: A weekly quotation about our region, illustrated through either amateur photography and/or historical images.

• Old News: Interesting tidbits unearthed from the archives of historic (and even defunct) local newspapers. Normally, I look for 100-year-old news items that remain as timely today as they were way back then. When that fails, I just go for something bizarre.

In addition to the return of the above, expect a greater focus on Southland kitsch and obscure, offbeat attractions.

Finally, as this blog becomes more active with local ghost hunters and their paranormal investigations, I’ll also be stepping up entries in the ever-popular Cryptic L.A. category.

Please Bookmark It!

As a reminder, please also note that you’re now viewing Dateline>City of Angels at its new subdomain: www.mimlay.com/blog1 — a move designed to separate it further from my main professional writing pages, which are equally destined for an overhaul soon.

All in all, I intend to loosen up and have more fun with this blog — and hope you enjoy the changing scene here as well.

I’m so excited! After one post, we’ll make another post, and another, and… well, you get both the idea and the lame Sunset Boulevard reference.

Sardonic wit and all, this blog’s back and ready for its closeup.

Photo: StockXchng

If you’re reading this, you likely reached Dateline>City of Angels either through a back door or some search engine, and are now wondering why it appears so … incomplete.

Answer: We’re still under construction — or rather, “re-construction” — after a nasty blog crash several weeks ago. That reconstruction has meant changing locations to a new subdomain (mimlay.com/blog1), applying a new WordPress “Thesis” theme, and starting to painstakingly re-upload 300 photos one by one from scratch.

For now, all this blog’s former posts have been restored, although most of their photos and links will take some time to complete.

Meanwhile, all of the parent site, mimlay.com, will soon undergo an overhaul as well. Your humble blogger realizes it’s more professional to do everything offline then unveil it all at once — but reader requests have convinced me it’s more important to at least serve up a little something right away.

This blog will be 100-percent ready to rock again with new posts very soon. Please pardon the mess until then.

Oh, and make sure to bookmark this new subdomain!

I count myself fortunate to have been a young witness to one of humankind’s proudest achievements. Forty years ago I, like millions the world over, gazed in awe as the Apollo 11 lunar module Eagle touched down at Tranquility Base.

A boy of seven, I was gathered with my brothers in our family living room along with our parents and grandparents. My father, a software engineer at Pasadena’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, had played a role in the unmanned moon explorations that had paved the way for this historic event. As a kid, I was fascinated by the Surveyor satellite photos of the pocked lunar surface that he brought home after missions. Now he had splurged on a brand-new color TV to view the manned landing — only to learn that the broadcast of the lunar excursion would be limited to black and white.

No matter. In the heady excitement of seeing Neil Armstrong take his one small step for man, the lack of color was quickly forgotten.

No one else seemed to mind, either. You could hear the cheers erupting in neighboring living rooms all up and down our street.

StockXchng image.

They say when Apollo 11 transmitted pictures of our own Big Blue Marble as seen from the moon, we Earthlings finally realized how tiny our place was in the universe. Perhaps philosophers, pundits and jaded statesmen felt that way, but my generation certainly didn’t.

Quite the opposite, our world now felt a whole lot bigger. Children of the Cold War’s Space Race, and raised on a steady diet of campy science fiction, we younger Americans seemed to recognize instinctively that in a single night we had become heirs to a dream passed down since the dawn of civilization. Each generation has its defining moment, and young as we were, this felt like ours.

Suddenly, imagination had no boundaries, the stars held no limit, and anything and everything was possible.

Photo: Cirque Berzerk

There’s a certain historical irony in this month’s return of Cirque Berzerk (left) to the Los Angeles State Historic Park with a schedule of weekend performances. Over a century ago, L.A.’s City Fathers faced quite a conundrum over how to prevent such big-top hijinks from disturbing the Sunday peace.

Reporting on City Hall’s daily antics, the May 20, 1896, Los Angeles Times noted that:

“After instructing the City Clerk to issue no license for a Sunday circus, the City Councilmen yesterday awoke to the fact that it would make small difference to the circus people…”

Much to the council’s dismay, overnight research into the law revealed that any clown tendering money for a Sunday exhibitor’s license had to be granted one, regardless of the type of event. With a troupe of performers practically at City Hall’s doorstep threatening a street procession and death-defying fetes for the upcoming weekend, quick thinking was required.

“It was finally decided that the only method which could be taken to block the circus people in their plans for a Sunday exhibition and parade, would be to call a special session of the Council and adopt an ordinance making it a misdemeanor for any circus to exhibit or parade on Sunday in this city…”

Which the ever-wise council hurriedly did on Thursday, May 21, 1896.

If Sunday performances had the councilmen’s drawers in a wad back then, imagine how they would’ve flipped their collective wigs over a freakish show like Cirque Berzerk pitching its tent in their train yard.

Source:
“At City Hall: Bolting the Bars”
Los Angeles Times
May 20, 1896

Photo: Kyosho

Whenever there’s a lull here at the ol’ blog, you can bet I’m pouring all my energy into some paid writing gig. One of the great things about being a writer is the opportunity to learn all sorts of interesting stuff about a variety of subjects and then share those discoveries with readers.

Take for instance radio-controlled (RC) cars, one of two story topics I completed this week for Off-Road Industry Magazine. Like me, you’ve probably seen hobbyists buzzing them around beaches, parks and empty parking lots on any given weekend. And like me you’ve probably mused “what interesting toys” and then quickly moved on to whatever it was you were doing without a second thought.

But as I soon learned in researching my article, these aren’t toys at all. They’re serious business for the companies that make them and the enthusiasts who buy them.

Photo: Losi

Every Bit Real

In fact, these little electric and nitro-powered racers are every bit as sophisticated as their fullsize car and truck counterparts. Vehicle models are researched, engineered, prototyped and even dyno-tested just like the real thing. Many can reach speeds well over 40 mph, and their mechanicals can boast everything from liquid-filled shocks to four-link suspensions to reinforced chassis with options of two- and four-wheel drive. Moreover, as with their fullscale cousins, an entire service and parts aftermarket has grown up around them, with major automotive brands throwing big money into replica licensing.

Competition is fierce at all levels of this estimated $1 billion industry — not only among the carmakers (several of which you’ll find here in Southern California) but the hobbyists themselves. There are organized racing teams, national and world-wide sanctioning bodies and purses that full-size motorsports competitors would envy. Currently industry players say the fastest growing RC vehicle segment is off-roading: desert-racers, buggies and, most of all, rock crawlers.

Who knew?

My full report is slated to appear in the upcoming summer issue of ORI Magazine, published by the Ryan Communications Group.

Thanks to the region’s famous mediterranean climate, Southern California boasts one of the richest mixes of native and exotic plant life found anywhere in the world. But here’s a thorny pop-cultural question for you…

What does the Bird of Paradise pictured here have in common with the rose, camellia and California Golden Poppy?

One little hint: We’re not looking for a natural characteristic shared by the three species, but rather a man-made designation. Think you know the answer? To see if you’re right, click the continuation link.

Answer: If you guessed they’re all official flowers of some Southern California city, you’re right.

Even though it’s a native of South Africa, the Bird of Paradise (strelitzia reginae) is the official L.A. city flower. The rose, of course, carries that honor for Pasadena, as does the camellia in Temple City. The City of Altadena has designated California’s state flower, the Golden Poppy, its official municipal flower as well.

In fact, a quick Google search reveals quite a floral assortment among SoCal’s many communities. Here’s a small sampling:

• Azalea, Arcadia
• Orange Blossom, South Pasadena
• Friendship Rose, Whittier
• Statice Perezil, Downey
• Bouganvillea, Santa Monica
• Carnation, Fullerton

Oddly enough, unlike neighboring towns, Burbank apparently found it difficult to settle on just one official flower, forcing both the rhododendron and the plum blossom to share the honor.

“Our town worships success, the bitch goddess whose smile hides a taste for blood.”

– Hedda Hopper (1890-1966).

The famed Los Angeles Times gossip columnist knew of what she spoke. The Perez Hilton of her day (albeit with a lot more class and clout), Hopper fomented a ruthless rivalry with Hearst newspaper columnist Louella Parsons beginning in the late 1930s.

By the late 1940s, the former B-movie actress was the undisputed “Queen of Hollywood” and Filmdom’s most powerful rumormonger. Mingling with the industry elite, she preened about in extravagant hats, all the while building a fearsome reputation for making and breaking celebrity careers.

Pictured: Detail of a monument at the corner of Hollywood and La Brea depicting leading ladies Mae West, Dolores Del Rio, Anna May Wong and Dorothy Dandrige as four pillars of Classic Hollywood. Readers are free to guess the identity of the particular movie goddess seen here.

Coronel Mansion (LAPL Digital Archive)

If you’re a faithful reader of this blog, you’ve already met Antonio Coronel, 19th century L.A. mayor and leading citizen extraordinaire. Now it’s time to meet his widow Mariana, courtesy a news item carried by the Los Angeles Times 110 years ago this month.

Entitled The Coronel Mansion, the May 2, 1899, piece reports the  courtroom drama stirred up by Doña Mariana Coronel (nee Williamson) who, after a “brief widowhood” following Antonio’s death, married Dr. C. Edgar Smith. The article reveals how Dr. Smith immediately “made himself at home with his new wife in the Coronel mansion” only to find that “the spacious house would not hold them both after they began to quarrel.”

Ahhh, but things get even juicier…

“Señora Smith went on an extended journey to Mexico, leaving her spouse to enjoy himself as best he could in the big mansion at Seventh street and Central avenue. The doctor is alleged to have had a more or less merry time while his wife was away.”

The Coronels (LAPL Digital Archives)

Understandably miffed upon her return, Mariana tried to eject the good doctor from the house, but a legal obstacle stood in her way: She’d already deeded the mansion to Smith to elude ongoing litigation surrounding her former hubby’s estate.

With Smith refusing to budge, the clever Mariana embarked on a new strategy. First she leased the house to ex-Under Sheriff H.S. Clement, who promptly took up residence in the home and dislodged the doctor himself. Then she filed both for divorce and repossession of the property. Testifying in court in early May 1899, she shored her case up with what the Times describes as “tense” and “highly sensational” accounts of her new husband’s dalliances with female patients.

But Mariana Williamson Coronel de Smith wasn’t to have the last word in the matter. Stung by the assaults on his character, Dr. Smith apparently asked the court’s indulgence while he embarked on his own Mexican excursion to get the dish on Mariana’s recent escapades there. Meanwhile, the Times article milked the lull in the proceedings for all it was worth, promising:

“His answer in the suit now pending is expected to be as sensational, in many respects, as his wife’s charges.”

Source:
“The Coronel Mansion”
Los Angeles Times
May 2, 1899

Ahhh, Glendora… Garden spot of the Southland.

Well maybe not nowadays, but 119 years ago, the Los Angeles Times reported that “you can scarcely find a livelier place” in all Southern California…

“There are no loungers around the postoffice and stores. It is almost out of the question to get a man if you want one for extra work. Whitcomb Bros. & Co. are employing a large force of women, boys and [Chinese] to pick peas. They have shipped 10 tons of peas already… Every house in town is occupied and almost every room.”

Meantime, the neighborhood citrus crop was bustling too, a fact that seems to have thrilled the Times’ Glendora correspondent to no end:

“Our orange trees are a mass of bloom. The air is heavy with their perfume, and they are a ‘thing of beauty and a joy’ if not forever, for a long time.”

Yep. That’s what passed for a happenin’ SoCal scene in the late 1800s.

Source:
“Gladsome Glendora”
Los Angeles Times
April 13, 1890

“We are taxed for schools — taxed as no people ever were — and the reason our children cannot go to school is because our money has not been properly used.”

–Major Horace Bell (1830-1918).

Major Bell was publisher of The Porcupine, a famous 19th Century weekly L.A. newspaper dedicated to skewering civic corruption and hypocrisy.

The above quote is from a Sept. 22, 1888, editorial in which Bell blasts officials for demanding ever more taxpayer money even as they continue to waste public funds, allow school facilities to decay, and overcrowd classrooms with as many as 60 students to a teacher.

Hmmmn. And here we are 121 years later…

If you happen to pass by Angelus-Rosedale Cemetery today, don’t be alarmed at any strange whirring sounds you hear. It’s only Bell spinning in his grave.

Lately a number of Dateline>City of Angels readers have begun to share with me their personal stories and mementos of life in L.A. These have ranged from childhood memories of vanished landmarks to old snapshots of historic places to some really interesting ghost encounters and related urban legends — stuff too good to keep to myself.

So… I’ve decided to open the blog to reader contributions like the one below. If you have similar tidbits to share, please email me at admin [at] mimlay.com. (Make sure you include permission to post what you send, otherwise I’ll consider it a private communication.)