From Car-Free to Car-Dweller

Four years ago, I celebrated becoming car-free in Los Angeles. Now, I'm writing from the Bay Area various places and am very, very attached to my car. When I was living in Downtown LA and spending most of my time there, it was easy to ditch the car and use public transit and bicycles. I still use public transit and my bicycle, when I can. But I've found that I really like camping out of my car on BLM land. And it's lovely being able to wake up to scenes like this after pulling over to sleep among eighteen-wheelers:

Vista Point, Highway 101, Santa Barbara.

I've driven between Los Angeles, Bishop, and the Bay Area many times over the last few months. It's hard for me to think about how much gas I've consumed in such a short period of time. Hundreds of gallons, I'm sure, though I get good mileage and drive conservatively. My current lifestyle includes a lot of driving, which I once tried so hard to get away from, and now, I don't really see myself getting away from it any time soon. It's harder to interact with the outdoors, be car-free, and still be very mobile. But it's possible.

If I were planning to live in one place for a long time, and commute to only a few specific places on a regular basis, it would be easier to imagine working out a way to avoid using a car for outdoors excursions. The truth is that right now, I'm not so willing to try that hard. I'm still hauling around quite a few belongings, I like being able to tuck into my home like a turtle, and I like the feeling of independence I get hurtling down highways between cities, where it can seem so desolate.

Sagebrush Campsite, Owens River Gorge, Eastern Sierra.

For now, the best course I see is in staying in places for longer stretches of time than the weeklong trips I've been taking. Where those places might be, and how far I'll have to drive to get there, are all up in the air. A few days ago I plotted out a dozen different climbing areas to visit around the western US. I've met quite a few people traveling around for a month or more (or indefinitely) for climbing. That doesn't feel like long enough, not at all. I want to take more time than that. And I want to make it sustainable for that time, both financially and environmentally, as much as possible. It's hard to imagine how that is going to work. But I'm trying.

Gentrification, USC, & Me

Back in 2008, I had the following email exchange:

May 17, 2008:

Hello! I was reading your online blog and was curious - do you still live at 1821-1839 S. Main Street? I was looking at those apartments some time ago and thought they were wonderful,but was weary of the area. How has your experience been? Also, I remember parking was tight -- do you park at the lot across the street, and how safe has your car been? I also noticed there was a lot for LA Mart down the street - do you know if this is at all available for tenants? Thanks for all your advice!

I replied the next day:

Hi there, 

Thanks for visiting my blog! I do still live there (though I haven't been posting nearly enough lately).  

I've been here since November and the people I've encountered in and near my building have generally been either friendly or at least non-threatening. I think it depends a lot on your own comfort level. I am careful about going out at night and last night was the first time I walked farther than the market downstairs alone (I usually bike everywhere at night). I walked to my apartment from the train station on Grand at about 10PM, and there were people around. Of course I'm always cautious but I try not to let that keep me from doing things. There is a restaurant downstairs that serves beer and has somewhat odd hours, and I see a few intoxicated people around once in a while-- nothing terribly alarming though. 

DIY Artist Residency // Kevin Kwong

For the past month, our friend Kevin Kwong lived in our living room, made art, shared his art, and generally had a great time. We had a great time hosting him. New paintings appeared on the wall with incredible frequency. He even made incredibly affordable prints of his paintings ($20 each) which he debuted at the July 5th Tuesday Night Cafe. Here's one of my favorites:

Deeshaun’s Present

Now Kevin is gone, and our living room is no longer a bedroom, our dining area no longer a studio. My roommate Vicky and I are considering opening our living room once again this autumn for an artist-(friend)-in-residence.

On The Move, Still Writing

As of November 30th, I was no longer a resident of 1821 South Main Street.

My lease ended and I will be taking a hiatus from Los Angeles for a much-needed break starting January 1, 2009. I will be unemployed for the sake of serious rest, writing, and travel. Those three things don't sound like they actually go together, but they do. I am not traveling to see any particular sights, only people, and though I will be going through a gauntlet of various airports, it will be a welcome change from the gauntlet that is LA rush hour by bicycle.

All this traveling doesn't mean that I am going to disappear from the LA blogosphere; in fact, I will be using this break to catch up on various posts that have been collecting dust in the "Drafts" section of my Blogger account. Though I usually try to stay away from the internet and technology when I travel, January will be an exception. I am traveling to spend time with friends and to spend time on writing both online and offline, and I'll be toting my laptop with me for this purpose.

I began this blog in January to document my experience living in this odd little zone in Los Angeles and to give exposure to a side of South and Downtown LA beyond the stereotypes of violence and urban decay. This is an area that is changing, both through gentrification and grass-roots community revitalization, and it needs to be acknowledged. There is still much more writing to be done, more research, more than I have been able to do while balancing a full-time job, a social life, and other community commitments.

I feel in love with Los Angeles from this tiny studio apartment; in the last year, I became car-free, joined an arts collective, connected with community, and grew as a person and as a wrier. By no means am I shutting down or archiving South of Downtown-- I am merely disclosing that I am now living elsewhere. I hope to write about SoDo as a true resident again once the wanderlust is satisfied.

Got A Rack?

A bike rack, that is.

I've spent the last few weeks storing my bicycle in my third-floor apartment, lugging it up and down the stairs or using the tiny elevator when I am too weak to carry it. I don't mind this too much, but as I continue to furnish my apartment, the presence of my rusty, three-speed Schwinn Breeze is becoming more of a nuisance (read: serious eyesore).

It seems to be an unnecessary one considering there is this gigantic space downstairs in the lobby:

It houses our mailboxes and little else.

Sometimes, people leave free things in the corner near the door.

I found out from a tenant who moved in five years ago that Playa Vista's original plan had been to install a rack there, but apparently that hasn't come to fruition. Is it bureaucracy, budget, or simple neglect?

Do many Downtown apartment buildings have indoor bike racks? It certainly doesn't seem to be very high on the list of generally-sought amenities. Does your building/complex have bike racks at all, anywhere?

A Look Inside

Presenting 1821 South Main Street:

The entrance is on the right where that small tree is optimistically growing. The unmarked shop with half-open blinds between Viva Cellular and my entrance is El Sombrero Restaurant from my previous post. The operating hours are still confusing, and there are sometimes men loitering outside-- occasionally inebriated, generally harmless enough.

The building was completed in 1928, fifteen years after the completion of the Rutland Hotel Apartments next door.

Inside 1821 South Main Street:

The giant mural that lines this wall is somewhat contrary to the "dignified" Art Deco lobby in the Rutland, but it has grown on me. I like walking past the row of images and being reminded of the events this building has stood through, what its past tenants witnessed.

Completion in 1928

Completion of the Orpheum Theater on Broadway, 1958

Vietnam War, 1973

The events catalogued by the mural go on. There are more (equally poor quality) photos on Flickr.

From my research at Central Library, it doesn't seem like the buildings were ever associated with anything particularly important. I guess I can attribute the existence of this and other buildings like it to pre-Depression era optimism. It's a shame that segregation lines probably destroyed chances of further development, though the gentrification that is slowly happening now is an interesting issue in itself.

Flashback: $35 Per Month

From a classified ad in the Los Angeles Times, November 2, 1930:

Fifty-eight years = 2072% increase in rent and no more maid service.

The Los Angeles Times Historical Database is an amazing resource.

From the Rooftop

One of the best things about living just outside of downtown is being able to look at the downtown skyline.

Daylight:

Nightlight:


I got a Quit-or-Cure notice saying that tenants are only allowed on the roof in case of an emergency so I guess I will no longer be venturing up there. Alas and alack.

Genesis 2000 Progress & My Unit

I've gotten in touch with a representative over at Playa Vista Property Management who should be sending me more literature about the Genesis 2000 project "in the next few days," according to her email. Gary Haddock, president of Playa Vista, acquired the mixed-use buildings in hopes of bringing life to this neglected part of southern Downtown in 2000, and it seems that I arrived just as the results of the project began coming to fruition.

Nearly all of the retail spaces at street-level have been filled, and tonight I saw people moving furniture into a previously-empty space. A banner above the door announced (something like) "Marine Trading Post." A short exchange I had with one of the moving men revealed that a permanent tenant would take over within the next couple of months. Through the windows I saw enticing wooden chests and tables that I surely can't afford but will ogle longingly for as long as they're there.

The various businesses that are open or are preparing to open include:

Hilti (retail center for an international tool manufacturer I'd never heard of previously)
ReMax
Jackson-Hewitt Tax Services
One Stop Market
A Mexican Restaurant (whose name I've yet to learn and whose hours I can't decipher)
Downtown Community Job Center (technically not a part of the 1821-1839 property but is adjacent to it)
C2 Reprographics

I'll be interviewing these tenants to see what brought them here and to gain their insight about what the future holds for this area. I want to see this area developed further, but it's a mystery to me that the Da Capo buildings were built here at all, so far south of the Historic Core and isolated from most older buildings. Some time spent at Central Library's archives should bring some light to that question.

In the meantime, here is a press release from Playa Vista that was posted on LA Downtown News last November.

It claims:

The restored structures at 1821-1839 S. Main St. glow with turn of the 20th century charm. The units enjoy great views, a cooling breeze and are drenched in light.

"Drenched in light" is certainly not an exaggeration-- the amount of natural light was one of the reasons I fell in love with this place. A photo of my unit, taken at approximately 3PM:

The kitchen is through the doorway on the left side of the photo, and the bathroom and a fairly roomy closet are along the same wall. The blue wall in the window is the Famsa Furniture store across the alley. It actually doesn't obstruct the view much, and affords me some privacy from traffic:

It's definitely a space that is intended for single living, but from what I can discern, many of the tenants are small families. The demographic of the 90015 zip code is another subject I plan on examining more closely in future entries.

And I thought I would just talk about where I buy groceries and toiletries.

Introduction

I moved to 18th and Main in November 2007.

Completed in the late 1920s, the Rutland buildings were acquired by Playa Vista Property Management in 2006 and renovated into affordable and pleasant bachelor, single, and one-bedroom units as part of the company's "Genesis 2000" project. The project's vision is to restore the long-neglected area south of the 10 freeway, a plan that seemed a hopeless investment.

In my short time here, I have concluded that their vision is not necessarily hopeless, and I plan on doing what I can to contribute to this area's revitalization by frequenting local businesses as much as possible and by sharing my findings with-- well, with whoever reads this blog.

About the living space:

My studio apartment is filled with light thanks to large northwest-facing windows. I estimate that the entire unit is no larger than 250 square feet, and despite the tiny kitchen (approximately 5' by 5' at best), it's a very comfortable space. Visitors find the area outside my building a bit disconcerting in its seeming desolation and have accused the marble staircase of being treacherously steep, but inside is a cozy, quiet place that belies its location between both a major highway and the Metro Blue Line.

After living in the suburban fantasy (or nightmare) of Irvine, this place with its rooftop view of the downtown skyline and proximity to public transit is a breath of fresh air, smog notwithstanding.

This is not to say that I have no qualms with my new residence: whereas in Irvine I lived within comfortable walking distance of a Trader Joe's, Albertson's, Washington Mutual, and a variety of eateries ranging from fast-food to Zagat-rated, I now must adapt to having none of them so easily accessible. There is also the issue of safety: in Irvine, I would have thought nothing of jogging a few miles around the neighborhood at 10PM or walking the quarter-mile to Trader Joe's after nightfall, things that I can hardly imagine doing here.

It is different than what I am used to, but I am excited to adapt and discover what this place has to offer.