Here is the beginning of the story. I went to the Sunset Junction festival. Food, arts, crafts, a huge cross section of the real people of Los Angeles filtering into a predominately gay/creative community. This year they had some rocking bands and musical artists like Ashford and Simpson, X, Stephanie Mills, Thelonious Monster and Love with Arthur Lee. Food and Ashford and Simpson? I had to go.
Not to mention all kinds of goodies, sights, sounds and “what the hell was that?”
I grabbed the mystical red backpack of storage and head out. After two buses I start walking. I just figure on seven blocks of walking up front. I like to walk, I think.
I pass by the Circuit City that was looted during the riot/rebellion/uprising of 1994. I remember seeing a tank on that corner as I went to work in the days that followed. Ah, memories. But my feet are asking direct questions like:
“Are you crazy?”
“We have to walk how far?”
“Are we there yet?”
Finally, I see the entrance gate. I get stamped “completed”. There are thousands of people. Almost 10 city blocks of people. With that many urban folk you have to have food and facilities.