I met an interesting older gentleman in the Laguna Seca Parking Lot on Race Day, as I waited for Stan and the girlfriend to arrive.
"Waiting for them" became a routine over the weekend by the way, as you'll read later on this blog entry. I noticed him because like myself this gentleman came alone and it seemed odd to me that he drove a mint
looking Toyota Corolla GTS (remember those coupes? Built in the early 80's to early 90's). I have been to many of these Racing Events in Monterey and many others in California and I don't ever remember seeing anyone driving a mint one of those (or any for that matter)- let alone a distinguished looking old white man. Something seemed
cool and peculiar about the man though. Perhaps a little fanatical and dorky too, sporting all sorts of racing gear such as a fire-retardant jacket and Pilotis racing shoes in a car that isn't exactly worth restoring nor has has it ever been dubbed sporty. Yet he insists and I have a feeling he restores more than just that
forgettable car... I didn't ask where he was from but I had a sense that he knew his way around a Race Track despite his peculiarities. "Good day for Racing" he greeted me with a sense of sagacity and anticipation, perhaps noticing my glance. That gentleman has been coming to Laguna Seca since 1965 and had just recently turned 65 years old himself. A interesting tid-bit about himself and the track that he seemed proud and amused about at the same time. I asked about all of the glorious years of the Can Am series and the days of the Open Wheel Racing in Laguna Seca- a racing series that seemed to have been lost in time
as far as Laguna Seca is concerned. At least in recent memory. And he was more than happy to oblige...
He sort of reminds me of what the Monterey Peninsula is all about. Kind of old school yet chic in some ways and kind of peculiar in more ways than one. A fun little fact about Monterey and perhaps what most Californians do not know about it, is the fact that it served as the Capital of
Spanish California from 1777 to 1849, making it an old city by California standards, and has kept or restored many of its late-18th-and 19th-century buildings. Monterey had long been famous for the abundant fishery in Monterey Bay which only changed recently due to "overfishing" (1950's). A few of the old fishermen's cabins from the early twentieth century have been preserved as they stood along Cannery Row. The famous Cannery Row has now been turned into a tourist attraction, with restaurants and shops in the historical site. I have been coming to Monterey since the late 90's to attend Race Events in Laguna Seca and I like it more and more each time I visit...
The event itself was fine of course. We did the paddocks walkabout to check-out the cars, take pictures and autographs etc... That is by-and-large the best thing about ALMS by the way- the overall fan experience. There's not a lot of sporting events where you might find yourself waiting in-line to use the same urinal as the athletes themselves (I realize that might not be the best of examples but you get the idea...). Or where, unlike CART/IRL and Nascar, the race paddocks (where the race-cars are garaged) are open to the public. In fact even the race pits are open during the pre-race ceremonies! Okay if you are not a race fan, think about it this way- it's like walking around on the basketball court before the Lakers take the court... Of course the ALMS isn't like the ultra-popular somewhat corporate-driven NBA or Nascar nor do they come with Ultra-Popular athletes the likes of Jeff Gordon, but that is part of the genuis of the Race Series. It may seem second-rate because of all of the ex-Cart/ex-F1 drivers (like Mika Salo in the Ferrari GT2- former Ferrari Driver behind Schumacher) and the cars aren't as fast and advanced as the IRL's and F1's, but the race action you'll find in the race itself is unlike any other racing series this side of the Europe. Imagine this- Four Race Classes ranging from Prototype purpose-built Race Cars like the Audi R10 TDI(Twin direct injected Turbo-Charge V-12) to Smaller, less powerful, more agile purpose-built Prototypes like the Porsche RS Spyder and Acura ARX-01b, to Heavily modified GT cars to the moderately modified Production-based Grand Touring Cars like the Ferrari F430 FT and Porsche 911 GT3 RSR- all running in the same race... The contrast between these cars are pretty much like Formula One, against IRL, against Nascar, and finally against Star Mazda- all of which running in the same race!!! And if you think that's crazy- look into the the Rolex Grand-Am Series. Those guys, in some races, run their Purpose-built
Daytona Prototypes against their GT and ST Classes which are practically your
anemic 4-cylinder, moderately modified, garden variety Honda Civic SI's, VW GTi's, Cobalt SS's, and Mini Coopers. So if you like Motorsports and if the Formula One brand where you might find one or two exciting moments in a Race isn't doing it for you, then I might suggest Sports Car Racing. It looks kind of like a concoction of four different breeds of race cars racing their tails off or like a collection of predatory animals like Lions, Tigers, Bears, and Coyotes, all after the same quarry...
yea its really too bad they don't come to California anymore sigh...On the night before the race I had dinner plans with Stan and Marsha. Which is pretty much a crap-shoot in terms of what time they'd actually turn up. And I really thought I was prepared... Let's put it this way- I waited so long my stomach ached in hunger. I don't know if you have ever bailed on dinner plans with some friends citing starvation and annoyance but it was something I actually tried to do that night. Luckily Stan called right when I got in my car to pick-up some Subway. That saved me the grief of having to explain why I bailed for Subway (lol). It would have been an interesting chat I suppose... Of course when we finally got to the historic Cannery Row they couldn't decide on which one of the only handful of
open restaurants to dine in. We basically walked the entire row a sort of window shopping or something. Yea so there I was starving to death with a busted knee and they wanted to walk around? And to add insult to injury (literally and figuratively) by the time we'd finally agreed on a restaurant, the kitchen was already closed. Brilliant!
Anyway we decided arbitrarily on a Sea Food Restaurant called
Sardine Factory situated one block west of the Cannery Row that actually looks more like a regular bungalow house than anything else
. Well except for the incongruous 40-foot wooden fishing boat parked right on the yard. Kind of impossible to miss... Even with the boat though it is still rather unimpressive from the outside and only until after you enter through the front doors will you realize the true charm and beauty of the place. This deceptively beautiful restaurant houses five rooms, one shabby-chic lounge with a bar and four impressive dining rooms. We dined in "The Conservatory"
a garden setting, surrounded by lush greenery beneath a glass-domed roof. The Conservatory is alive with a glittering custom chandelier, twinkling candlelight and an elegant statue of Venus imported from Italy. Sounds a little splendid right? Well it was... You should see the other dining rooms in that place- they range from the intimate and charming to the downright stately and Lavish. Kind of reminded me of Robin Leech...
How about the food? Well forget about it. It was amazing! I think the last time I used such a superlative for food was still during my time in Italy. But like they say "you can't get a bad meal in Italy". This place, though not Mediterranean-inspired, reminded me so much about the food in Sardegna, Italy (... My Naval Duty Station). Perhaps its their similarities that bind them together for me. The gorgeous Island of Sardegna has always fell victim to invasion from the Romans, the Byzantine Greeks, the Genoese, Pisans, at some point the Spaniards, then given to the house of Savoy as part of the Congress of London in 1718 (later called the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia), then later to become part of the new Kingdom of Italy in 1861, then finally in 1948 Sardinia became an autonomous region. So because of this the Sardegnian peoples often flocked to the mountains, which would explain the contradiction that Sardegnas tradidional foods was often more influenced by land rather than sea. That sounds a lot like the
Sardine Company if you ask me! Because despite having the appearance of a Sea Food Restaurant I really think they are more influenced by the land because they dry-age their steaks in-house for 5 weeks to ensure tenderness. That's some attention to detail for a Sea Food place bearing the name of a Fish, isn't it? They can't possibly lay the same claim to the Sea Food they serve...
We had Oysters, Clam Chowders, Mahi Mahi, and Filet Mignon. All of which were to die for! And best of all, the portions were relatively generous for Gourmet. And at the race? Well we had some Louisiana hot links and bratwurst to go along with some fine wine from the Firestone Winery in Santa Barbara, and of course some cheese...
Sometimes life can truly be funny and cruel. Just a few days after publishing my somewhat self-deprecating "Getting old is hard to do..." blog entry, which by the way was only meant to be funny, I was once again reminded -rather painfully yet again- that I am no longer a young indestructible man...
I felt something in my knee during the game that following Sunday. Something unfamiliar to me and my body. It was odd too because I don't remember doing anything to it. Stupid me i chalked it up to "getting old" even though I didn't feel particularly vigorous that day to begin with (or perhaps that is why i chalked it up to "getting old"). It wasn't pain I felt but more like a tenderness around the knee. Obviously I did not think it was an indication to what could be a deteriorating
knee so I played on (despite its weakness). Never once during the game did it occur to me that I should probably sit down and give it a rest. "It ain't no thing" I kept convincing myself. I guess it is kind of like that like "check engine" light syndrome in your car. Sigh. Interestingly enough though, I still felt
okay after the game. But that wasn't the case anymore later on that evening. It became as stiff as a tree trunk and a little swollen around the knee cap. I knew then I did something
somewhat serious to my precious knee. But still, I can't seem to remember what I did to it...
The good news is that neither the X-RAY nor the MRI showed any broken bones or torn muscles and ligaments. The bad news is that they found all sorts of stuff wrong with it. First my "Medial Miniscus" is deteriorating due to overuse. "All of those years of playing basketball will do that to you" said my Dodger-Fan Doctor, solemnly (though he wouldn't buy my playoff tix for 500% face value lol...). Secondly I have water in my knee, common to osteoarthritis and torn MCL and or ACL. And lastly my knee is doing something weird. Something called "Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome".
"Patellofemoral pain is a common knee problem. If you have this condition, you feel pain under and around your kneecap. The pain can get worse when you're active or when you sit for a long time. You can have the pain in only one knee, or you have have pain in both knees. The exact cause of Patellofemoral isn't known. It probably has something to do with the way your kneecap (called the "patella") moves on the groove of your thigh bone (called the "femur")". Basically your Patella is suppose to move sideways on the Femur. Mine doesn't seem to want to do that. Instead it is sliding upwards which is an un-natural movement for the kneecap. Not good... Or basically "my knee is messed up". A sentiment to which my Doctor wholeheartedly agreed with. Thanks Doc! If its any consolation, he quickly added "Michael Jordan had Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome". I wasn't quite sure whether he was being a smart-ass or just trivial, so I decided right then that it was a good time to ask him what I felt was an important question. "Doc man... can I still hump?". He said I would be fine
without hesitation...
Anyway, this is what I have. It's too bad because both of my Sunday leagues have just started. Not that there is ever a good time to sustain an injury. As is, I will have to miss the rest of the Season if I want it to heal properly. To add insult to injury I also have a new Thursday League that I signed up for before getting injured. I guess I will just have to coach from the sidelines. They do recommend that I keep active by doing low-impact activity such as elliptical trainers, swimming, biking etc along with taking the proverbial anti-inflammatory my Doc prescribed... Although at the moment it is a bit too painful to even walk.
I am grateful and lucky that I hadn't torn any ligaments which would require surgery and obviously an even longer recovery period. When I broke my ankle several years ago, I wore a cast for Four long
grueling months and then two seemingly even longer months to regain muscles lost. A half a year I was indisposed! This Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome would seem to be a much easier
undertaking for me.
In some respects I am getting old. Too old to be living at home (but I still don't care...), too old for my Abercrombie shirts, perhaps for my car and sometimes I think for Basketball (... courtesy of all the soreness on the day after) etc etc etc. This particular blog entry though is in respect only to about getting too old for my Car and Basketball (because "getting old" is a broad subject isn't it?)... I used to wonder about Larry Bird when his ailing back began to bother him in the late 80's and early 90's. He used rest his back on the sideline during close games and I would ask myself why he would bother resting at all. Perhaps even questioning his heart. Doesn't he love the game so much that he would be willing to play through the pain? I know I did... Back then of course I was in my teens, healthy as a horse. A time when a sprained ankle took a mere two days to recover from. The tides have definitely changed...
Nowadays most of the time it feels almost like I was beaten to a pulp the day after a ballgame. Every part of my body seems to hurt. It wasn't like this in my teenage and early 20's! Makes me sort of understand why some of the high profile pro athletes (or any professional athlete for that matter) took human growth hormones and or Steroids. I am beginning to be able to imagine what it would be like to take the kind of punishment aging athletes endure week-in and week-out. What it would be like for a guy like Randy Johnson (not that he has ever taken Steroids... Which is why he is such a wonder) or Roger Clemens to recover in 4 days to pitch again after having just pitched 7 to 9 innings in the Major Leagues. I am only 33 years old but after having played two 40 minute (running time) basketball games on Sundays, I could not play again for a few days if someone paid me to do it. My body just does not respond like it used to. In fact I am pretty much done for the rest of the week as far as physical activity is concerned...
And apparently I am a bit too old for my car too. The people I see on the forums and people that I run into in real life who drive the same car had either just recently graduated from High School, some still in High School, and or are just very young in general. I once made the mistake of attending an 8th Generation Civic Si meet. Geesh let me tell ya a lot of them kids that showed up look a lot like Pauli Bleaker from that movie Juno (... you know that 'still wet behind the ear' look?). And the Filipino one's that showed up were the annoying kind-- ya know the pimple-faced
Five Foot dorks with spiky hair and baggy pants? LOL. And in a lot of cases it is a first car for these
annoying kids (unfair right?). Of course the subject of choice at the meet was the all-important first modification for our cars. The proverbial go-louder exhaust system seemed to be the popular choice (Well ya!). And what about me? Well I went with the Rubber Mats, I proudly announced
-snickers all around-. Because we all know that the first upgrade the real car enthusiasts goes for is always the all-important Rubber Mats right?
lol. Followed of course by the Intake/Race-Header/Exhaust combination and Break/Tires/Suspension upgrades etc etc etc. But that's me. These kids went with Car Stickers Hood Scoops that neither make their cars look coolor nor perform better. It's the
age old Form over Function syndrome... And for good measure 90% of the people I see driving Honda Passports (my other car) are either very old people or are women. Not exactly emasculating but mildly annoying all the same. Apparently I make bad choices with cars? But I should ask myself-- does it really matter?
The other day, not only did I feel like I was too old for my car but it started to seem like the car was no longer a unique choice. The car is somewhat unique because it is a limited production model. However in the 25 minute drive from my house to my Basketball Game in Eagle Rock alone, I saw Four Civic Si's on the road (... and two on the way back home. What the heck?). It used to be, on any given day, I would see more Porsche's than 8th Generation Civic Si's on the Road. That didn't seem to be the case that day. Not that they are very special, it's just that there are very few people in the compact-car market that are willing to fork out 22 Big Ones for a souped-up Civic, thus the small supply. And as if I hadn't had enough for the day a Night Hawk Black Si pulls up right behind me on the exit (Yes that's Honda's version of Black "Night Hawk"). So in an attempt to get away from him I jack-rabbit the green light and immediately change a couple of lanes over (not that i really needed to do that but I did... stragely enough). A couple of blocks later however he ended up right behind me but only for another block before making a right turn...
I was hoping that was the end of the Si' sightings for the day but little did I know it had only just begun
lol. The same guy in the Night Hawk Si pulled up as I parked outside of the gym. I guess he took a different route. In these serendipitous Si encounters, these kids are somehow always compelled to chat. I always try to do it with just a quick nod of acknowledgment. But there didn't seem to be a way out because he headed right to me as soon as he got out of his car even though I tried my best at looking occupied. Apparently that don't matter in the 8th Generation SI encounters. At least he wasn't one of those annoying Filipino kids
haha. He seemed a little shy too and asked if he were in the right gym. Though I think that was just a precursor to his real questions -- he did ask about my Exhaust and Fog Lights afterwards
as I expected. So we walked over to the gym together talking about out beloved cars. The poor kid's car was all stock btw which isn't too bad in the the world of the
cool sporty-compact-cars but more importantly it isn't too cool either. I wished him luck on his future mod plans before moving on...
It turns out this kid was with the opposing team. He even picked me as his defensive assignment right before tip-off. Rather confidently... Which made sense because he's my height though giving away probably 30 lbs. But more importantly he's about 12 years younger. Sort of begs the question though- if our cars had anything to do with his choice to stick with me hmm. Perhaps it was yet another attempt to interact with a fellow SI owner? Let's hope not... The kid probably could have ran circles around my old legs and perhaps even make jump shots over me at will. He seemed to be a smart kid so i'm sure he was fully aware of that advantage. But of course I wasn't about to let that happen... So before the kid had any chance to pull any kind of
crazy moves on me, I fouled him!! And despite my age
I am much stronger than the kid so I was able to post him up a few times and made my Team's first four baskets. But because I was handicapped with fouling him early and often, I had to sit down at some point before I used up all my allotted fouls. When I went back in the game in the second half I had to switch defensive assignments with someone to try to avoid fouling out. I wound up however in a far worse situation with a taller and lankier left handed kid. Sort of reminiscent of Detroit's Tayshaun Prince. Try to imagine Robert Horry trying to stay in front of Tayshaun Prince... Sadly that was me. But he is your classic lefty whose tendency is to go left. So somewhat predictable right? Well despite that I was still mostly a half a step behind. And in the only play that I was able to stay in front of him, as i attempted to block his layup (and i was very close to it), he threw out his right elbow. And my temple taking the brunt of the impact. It was kind of a hard hit because my vision was momentarily blurred...
5 to 10 years ago I would have gone after him instinctively. It wasn't intentional but my problem is the smug kid didn't bother apologizing. Yes Basketball is a compact sport and I am a
rough player myself but it is also a gentleman's game. We don't just knock people down because we can. That pissed me off a little. However I had played over 70 minutes of Basketball at that point and my legs were about ready to give in so I just sort of let it go. After regaining my bearings I asked to come-out because my head was hurting a bit. I was done
hahahaha.
And as I sat there dreading my body's soreness on the day after, checking with my teammates to make sure my head hadn't split open (because that has happened to me before btw...), I thought of Larry Bird and all those times I questioned his heart as he rest his back on the sidelines and said a silent apology (and yes I wear his # 33 to this day...). Because in his heyday he dominated and during his decline he was still pretty darn good. I wouldn't say I'm on my decline yet nor are my contemporaries, but these young bucks sure do remind us every once in a while....
I hit the road that morning with a sense of great anticipation. Windows rolled all the way down so I could feel the wind on my face... The first leg of the road trip was the 101 freeway to Highway 33 in Camarillo. Highway 33 would lead me to a charming old town called Ojai where I made my first stop and the rest of my trip. It was an unadventurous stretch of a highway by the way but I was optomistic. And Ojai for all its charm and history is rather small and boring looking. But if rustic and idyllic is your idea for a visit, Ojai just might be the place for ya (Home to the Chumash Indians before becoming one of many Spanish land grants along the California Coast). But just 10 minutes north of the Ojai Valley is where the fun really starts. Boring Highway 33 goes through a transformation of sorts in that short stretch. What started off as a commuter road quickly becomes an all too tempting road-course. Seemingly all of the bustling commuters disappear as if to give way to the intrepid of travelers. Perhaps because beyond Ojai lies nothing but the promise of the open road. And not just any road but perhaps a route no one traveling from Los Angeles to Salinas had ever taken before. Not that it is the most illogical of routes, just the most distant and adventurous...
The next 60+ miles can only be described as a terrifyingly fantastic drive. Highway 33 leads the way up and over the Los Padres National Forrest. It's kind of like driving to Big Bear mountain except without all Big Trucks in the way. This particular drive however offers pretty much all of the things one would wish a Canyon Drive could offer; Rolling hills and big sweeping high-speed turns etc etc. And even some pretty gnarly switch-backs! What one should keep in mind when driving through canyons is that the posted Speed Limits always seem to be a little on the conservative side. The 30 mph bends when taken at 50 mph is still fairly safe actually but not until you go beyond 60 do you really begin feeling a little uneasy. And believe it or not I saw all but 3 cars through the canyon giving it a sense of eeriness and solitude...
It begins to stretch its legs a little after the canyons. Long stretches of road as far as the eye can see at times. I eased off the gas a bit to take-in the mountains that abound me... But as I was coming around a big sweeping bend, I hear the unmistakable roar of an American V-8 coming up behind me fast! I had hoped to see a Rousch or Saleen Mustang in my rearview but what I saw instead surprised me quite a bit - a seemingly lost mean looking Ford F-150 SVT-. Just like me the gentleman was all by his lonesome. And although he'd probably broken a bunch of traffic laws already before he got to me, I sensed hesitation in him (Perhaps he's had some bad experiences before with other Ricers LOL). But in these lonely highways Road Warriors like us aren't rivals so I waved him by and he'd happily obliged despite the double yellow. When he got by me though, I just couldn't help myself. I took after him and kept my nose right under his bumper as he tried to speed away just to give him something to think about. Can't have these yahoos thinking they're Mad Max or something right?...
Soon the arid highway made way to a sea of Oil Fields. Miles and miles of it with the heat and stench to match. A scorching 106 degrees Fahrenheit (in contrast L.A. was a high of 85 that day). These places really play their role well let me tell ya... Seriously if you had slept in the back seat for an hour and woke up to that, you'd be impressed. Dreary yes, but impressive. Incidentally the price for 87 octane was at a steeeep $4.89 (only gas station i saw for a hundred miles). You'd have to appreciate the irony in that... After that impressive stretch of oil wells is yet another transformation. This time to lush farming landscapes where tractors & farmers dominate the lands and are hard at work. Even my mood seemed to change along with the scenery. I seemed to have become convinced that the California I have come to know isn't just about the fame and the glitz and the glamor of Hollywood and Los Angeles. Perhaps a reminder that the backbone of this proud and super-power of a country isn't the Fortune 500 companies, the Movie industry, or the Fashion industry, but the middle class...
I found myself liking the transformation. Maybe it reminded me of my formidable years in the Philippines as well, where things seemed a lot simpler and life is much slower than they are in Los Angeles. I was raised in a small town and I haven't yet forgotten what it's like. In fact some day I'm going to move to a small town (or a pseudo one like the outskirts of Los Angeles). Los Angeles is great because it is arguably the epicenter of everything cool in the Western World (right?), but i think small towns suits this calm soul much much better. It just has to be somewhere a couple of hours away from a Ski Resort hehe...
I'm glad I had planned on staying in Coalinga that Friday night (still 100+ miles away from my true destination) because that alone was a grueling 7 hour drive. Coalinga by the way is one of those small forgettable
transient towns no one ever wishes to visit again. And if they do come back it ain't for a visit but for another one night stay yet again. And that's one thing that strikes you immediately about this place; the number of motels that lay on the main drag. I mean its all they've got! There's not even a Denny's downtown. They really sort of force you to visit their local patrons. There is it might surprise you an improbable and incongruous Starbucks. Sort of speaks volume about California doesn't it? A hundred miles outside of a major city, dusty as a Western Town, and the foul odor of cow dung everywhere; it don't matter -- they need Starbucks! Not until I laid down on the bed did I realize how tired I really was. And the room as you might expect was nothing to write home about. In fact there wasn't even any hot water nor did the AC work very well. But whaddya expect for $45 a night from a small town, formerly a "Coaling Station" in which its name was derived (The
Southern Pacific Railway established the site as a
coaling station in 1888, and it was called simply
Coaling Station
A= CoalingA), and a Mental Health Hospital that houses Sexually Violent Predators as a main attraction? Charming eh?
After another cold shower in the chilly morning, I hit the road once again. The drive to Laguna Seca in Salinas California according to Google Maps was a 57 mile
trek due West on Highway 198, then just under 40 miles due North on the 101 freeway and finally a quick 7 mile drive West on Highway 68. I didn't expect much out of these Highways besides I was too excited about Laguna Seca to think about it. But Highway 198 despite being a relatively short 57 mile Highway (by California Standards) was a fantastic drive! It's like this; For the Formula One fans, it's Monza or Silverstone with its long straightaways and highspeed hairpins, only with blinding elevation changes. Or like the Laguna Seca Cork Screw over and over again -site of the greatest Pass in American Open Wheel Racing Ever- dubbed
"The Pass" (Alex Zanardi over Bryan Herta to rob Brian of his first CART win in the very last lap of the race. Alex would go on to win back to back Championships). And for the non-racing fans? It's like the scariest road you ever seen!
And the drive back to L.A.? Highway 68 to Highway 1 to the 101 freeway and finally to the ugly 405 freeway. Or like the Road to Perdition...
lol just kiddingIt was fun!
... well it's that time of the year again. Time for the annual, somewhat dreaded, somewhat
celebrated, somewhat (...dare I say it) cliche', sometimes fun Birthday. I really wish I had started some kind of a tradition, maybe like an
Uraguay-ian Anthony Boudain-like dinner in the backyard with a whole buffalo
burning in the middle of three different fires, just so I didn't have to think-up a somewhat creative way of celebrating yet another birthday. Because let's just say it, even though I live in L.A. and there's so
much to do out here, everyone just seems to wanna either go clubbing or have
little shindig. Which, in all honestly, is getting a little old. Yes, a little shindig and or a small intimate dinner with close friends is never really a
boring idea. I just dislike the "treat-me" idea imposed on friends upon the invitation (... even though I insisted on paying last year! But thanks guys!). Plus you never wanna over-do it right? And since Dinner with close friends is the way I celebrated my last few birthdays, I thought I might do something else this year...
I've always wanted to attend the Annual Historic Automobile Race in Laguna Seca (Monterey/Salinas, CA).
"It's a race that pays tribute to the history of motor racing, automobiles and the people who made and raced them. The premier vintage event in North America boasts approximately 400 of the finest racing and sports cars entered in 14 race groups spanning every era of motorsports history. Fans can spend the day watching races, roaming the open paddock, taking free pit tours and enjoying special displays, including the Rolex Moments in Time". This year the famed event falls precisely on my 33rd Birthday weekend. And even though I discovered this not just recently
by the way (but actually a couple of years ago), I would like to think that it was all written in the scriptures long ago...
Perhaps also prophesied in the
KoolGreen scriptures was reading Drew Carey's rather entertaining autobiography about a road trip he embarked on in his new Porsche 911. Basically he drove a good portion if not the length of the Great American Plains. "I remember going over 160 mph" he recalls proudly. It was something that really enthralled me. No not the fact that he was behind an iconic car going well beyond the posted speed limits, but just idea of the Road trip itself. I wasn't even a fan of his back then, I suppose I am now but not because of his work in television but the man that he is. At least from what I gathered from the book. He's sort of crazy guy but in a gentle kind of a way (if that makes sense). Since reading the
inspiring autobiography, I've always wanted to embark on my own version of his odyssean Road Trip. Maybe not in a
seminal car such as the 911 and perhaps not necessarily autobiography-worthy like driving through the entire length of the Great American Plains, but maybe something similarly noteworthy...
California by the way is laced with fabled roadways like Highway 1, the Golden State, El Camino Real, Route 66 and many many others. I need a destination however and as much as I would enjoy just setting aside all my worries and getting in the car and maybe driving the length of Highway 1 through Big Sur and all the other beautiful places along the way, without a place to stay and some kind of a fun-filled event at the destination, I wouldn't feel like doing it! Call me unadventurous or whatever but I would hate the last-minute motel search (... without a Nav). Alas no whimsical Road Trip. I have driven to Laguna Seca before (... for a different event) albeit taking the less than exciting google-map route. I did take the more scenic route back to L.A. on Highway 1. And although Highway 1 is somewhat of a majestic route, I have no desire to take it again on this upcoming road trip. It has to be elsewhere. A route that would somewhat be odyssean or at least meaningful like Drew Carey's. I don't deny that Highway 1 is beautiful and fabled
as they say but I have taken it many times before and taking that route
again to Salinas California would be like saying "I have seen the famed Hollywood" sign. Who hasn't? Famed and fabled yes, but not thought provoking or terribly exciting...
The answer to this bittersweet
longing would come on Monday July 7 in the form of an inspiring L.A. Times article by Peter H. King (Times staff Writer). Well it was not only inspiring to me but downright divine really (... like benediction or something!)
. Peter H. King writes
"State Highway 33 will not be confused with any of California's fabled Highways. Nobody's likely to write a song about Highway 33, although in one stretch it does cut through the Buck Owens country. Nor will a literary anthology be built around it, as was done not long ago with the Central Valley's Highway 99. Still, to travel this two-lane from top to bottom - a 300-mile drive that begins just below the San Francisco Bay delta, passes through the San Joaquin Valley's west side, crosses steep coastal mountains and ends at Ventura, where Highway 33 disappears into the 101- is to tour what might be called the Real California". He goes on about this forgotten Highway, its history and all of the quaint little farm & oil-well towns that lie in between and some of the interesting locals whose family's have lived there for many generations. The article gave me undeniable resolve and or perhaps "Illumination", and right then I knew what I wanted to do. I suppose it is a cool coincidence too that I am turning 33 this year and that I have have worn # 33 all of my basketball life...
Highway 33 offers me not only an alternate route to a destination but what I think is a similarly meaningful (and let's hope possibly odyssean) Road Trip as Mr. Carey's. No I would not be crossing a few U.S. States along the way and I probably wouldn't be surpassing 165 mph on the speedometer (... plus my car taps out at 138 I've read. But I just might challenge that lol!), but the more important thing is that I found a route that may not be as scenic as Highway 1 or as historic as Route 66, but one that is cool enough to have piqued my interest and one that is undeniably interesting enough to an established and certainly highly respected and sought after Staff Writer of one one of the most renowned news Publications in all of the United States, Peter H. King of the L.A. Times. If it's interesting enough to him it's good enough for me!
At such a peculiar time no less... So I thank you Mr. King not only for your insights on that particular article but for all of the California-historical accounts that always seem to grace your work. You have inspired me to discover or at least to have a look, if for a small moment, at the Real California.
I don't understand the models that take time to look at my portfolio then inquire about a possible collaboration only to be never heard from again. My guess is that she hadn't suddenly decided to drop modeling all together. Okay so the chances are she probably found another Photographer whose portfolio is far better than mine. And that is fine because that is the nature of the beast
so to speak. It's just a little annoying that she's wasted my time and had no decency to let me know she's found someone else. It's not because i sit around waiting to hear back from these models, I mean if I don't hear back I don't hear back, that's that! What is it with people and their lack of communication anyway? Is it so difficult to say "Hey thanks so much but I have found a better situation"? Okay so they are Models and perhaps communication isn't exactly their best virtue. It's just that these are the kind of things that ruin it for the more intelligent models such as Ashley and Zoe (A couple of models I have worked with).
I have been in communication with a model in the last 5 weeks or so about a project I proposed. She seemed enthused and even insightful about the proposal. She gave me a sort of flexible schedule to work with too. It almost seemed too easy ya know? But as things progressed, I discovered that she is not all that easy to work with after all. At least scheduling wise... Her first excuse for postponing a shoot was because her friend who was suppose to fix her hair could not make it. Apparently she has roots
for days (...whatever that means). It seemed like a legit enough excuse, I thought. Roots in a models hair does not sound pleasant at all. So I had thought she was looking out for me too! On our second attempt to collaborate, I thought it was a bit odd because it would have been a Saturday, the day after the 4th of July. Okay maybe this one was half my fault because even I didn't feel like shooting that day. But because she has such unique features and posses an edgy look, I thought I might work with her that day anyway. So i agreed! Only to hear from her the morning of the 4th postponing citing possible drunkenness and hungover. Fair enough right? Because even I planned on getting drunk!
So there we were rescheduling yet again. But all along I was trying to convince myself that she is not in fact crazy or at least not a compulsive liar because I was beginning to have my doubts. But be that as it may, it really wasn't that bad. In perspective, Roots & hangover are two pretty good reasons to postpone a photoshoot don't ya think? I remained cautious however because at that point even though her excuses were fairly legit, my thoughts were that I know a
crazy flake when i see one. So once again we agreed to set up a shoot, except this time I let her pick the time and date. Hell I even let her modify my original theme which she wasn't too fond of to begin with. Because I was thinking (...perhaps in some perverse way, hoping) that it didn't really matter because she just might come up with some wild cock & bull story and postpone again anyway... So did she? Well the curiosity was killing me leading up to the day of the shoot. And as I expected there was a
fateful email from her on the eve of the shoot. And this one was even crazier than I ever expected. Rather Impressive actually! She said she could not make the shoot because it was her sisters
surprise Bridal Shower Party which she has been tasked to put together. Well I would have like to believe the
spectacular lie but I couldn't think of a good reason why on God's Green Earth she would schedule a photoshoot on the same day she is throwing a Bridal Party for a sister (... and who the hell throws surprise Bridal Showers?!). Maybe not a complete lie all together but it was obviously not entirely true either because you would think a prudent person would not and could not make such a conflicting schedule (...but then again she is a model). More importantly though my suspicions came true; a wild story!
And since I didn't really expect this shoot to
ever come true I thought I'd play along with the complex and elaborate Game, if it is one. And let me tell you her latest excuse was beyond wild! And Yes we rescheduled again! This
crazy woman said she could not make it to the last shoot we agreed upon because she was getting her boobs done. I mean really, what could I say to that? Nothing right? So i wished her luck and said we'd talk and try to collaborate after the procedure because she still wants to shoot. Weird though because her already well endowed breast are partially a reason why I wanted to work with her...
Who knows all of the above could be true. Maybe she did have roots in her hair and maybe she didn't want to commit to a shoot the day after what could have been a drunken 4th of July Holiday. And that probably was a prudent decision. And maybe her sister did whimsically decide to get married and maybe she did whimsically decide to get her boobs augmented (lol). The striking coincidence is that she so happened to decide to make all these somewhat life changing events on the days we'd decided to shoot. It's interesting too the method that she'd chosen to postpone. It seems like she's finagling her way out of a commitment that needn't finagling. I mean it would seem easy to me to postpone or all together cancel a photoshoot. All you have to do is say so! But no, not her. She had all together complicated something so uncomplicated...
Anyhow on a more
uncomplicated note, I have some new photoshoots I'd like to share to you guys. Enjoy...
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