My Silver Lake Journey Seeking A Rental In Words And Images

The Long Beach bus is $1.25, and for $0.50 more you can transfer
onto the train system and travel in one direction for two hours.

I came up with the wild idea of traveling to an area I'd like to reside in and posting 'seeking furnished room' signs on public bulletin.

In almost every coffee shop and laundromat I've frequented in Long Beach I find a bulletin with all kinds of advertisements and announcements.

The area I live in is on the cusp of a very trendy part of town.

Every thing necessary is within walking distance due to dense development and specialization.

Several grocery stores, a variety of eateries, many coffee shops (where I sit and work), a laundromat two blocks away, and public transit one block away.

Silver Lake is the mecca of trendiness in Los Angeles with many similar amenities and cultural trends similar to Long Beach.

I don't agree with most of the popularized and tempered cultural trends, but that is where I currently reside and the experience has taught me to love people despite what is clearly defined as depravity.

So I figured I may experience a similar situation walking the more popular areas of Silver Lake.

The online effort looking for a rental space has rendered a few prospects among the many scammers trying to get an email address and other personal information out of me.

One such suspicious response to my ad taught me a valuable lesson: never judge prematurely, but initially give the benefit of the doubt.

Another lesson: be gracious no matter what.

A possible prospective landlord went back to being a suspect and I became a persona non grata to them.

Their response to my ad seemed suspicious, and when I searched their name and the title of 'photographer' as it read in their email, it seemed like a real person... yet I questioned whey someone seemingly successful would rent out a private master suite and private bathroom for so cheap.

It was typical of the scam ads and scam responses I've endured for weeks.

My initial response was that they were yet another scammer from a certain place on earth, now creatively using a famous name to push their baloney.

Their response to that accusation was that I was a jerk for insinuating the offer was from a scammer using a semi-famous name.

It was, in fact, a semi-famous photographer who did in fact reply to my inline ad... and I had pie on my face.

I sent an apology after sulking in embarrassment and humiliation.

The person seems to have accepted my apology.

They kindly responded "don't feel humiliated or embarrassed - it's Craigslist - it happens".

When I asked if they could reconsider me a possible housemate after the mea culpa apology, I didn't get another response.

Oi vey.

This particular morning as I lay in bed this particular morning plotting my course, I looked up what rents were in my prospective new city.

I couldn't help but feel a bit discouraged and dismayed at the valuations and rental costs.

Much higher than Long Beach.

Trendiness is expensive.

To be hip is too pricey.

The cool factor is a heat factor on one's pocketbook.

It is as if I have forgotten this reality... having ignored the west part of Los Angeles for many years for the dog-eat-dog culture it can often times be.

After reading two news articles, I was wondering if I this wild idea was more a crazy idea.

I wondered if I would likely be chasing my tail today instead of finding a possible place to stay.

I was thinking faithlessly, and this train of thought was clouding the wider purpose regarding every time I step outside.

I planned on leaving early enough so I would at least avoid seeing the harsh realities of the less fortunate on my way.

Nope.

Not every homeless person sleeps in... or most haven't a choice.

The sun and the rest of the neighborhood's noise eventually overcomes the desire to snooze.

Across the street from the corner of my current home I saw a woman sweeping the curb outside her makeshift shanty home.

Her motions looked like she was on her way up or coming down from a drug trip.

Her and her mate's humble abode was a compilation of thin rope strewn between two adolescent trees holding together an assortment of cardboard sheets and other materials.

I was also hoping it was early enough to enjoy a quiet and less populated ride on the public transit system.

Nope.

Only from where the train starts (in Long Beach) it is mostly empty, somewhat emptier on a Saturday morning than during the week [people going to work during the week].

A conspicuous view from my corner seat.
A conductor's cabin behind the wall behind me.
I don't like taking pictures of unsuspecting people,
thus the angle and effort to avoid capturing public faces.
The timing was perfect - notice the palm tree perfectly in the window's frame.

Now on the train, I am subjected to hearing a dramatic retelling of a more dramatic interaction between who knows who doing who knows what between two people.

At a glance the couple look like a man and a woman.

But a closer look reveals it is in fact a woman dressed and acting like a man and another woman (dressed and acting like a woman).

There is the extremes of masculinity and femininity ... and then there is a chasm in between where more and more people float.

That fine line is stretched, redefined, yet it has never been unclear throughout the ages.

I don't care to listen or know the details of the drama... but bits and pieces unavoidably audible mention that violence was involved.

On public transportation, where passengers are stuck sharing space with strangers, one cannot easily escape certain realities or loud retelling of people's lives unless there is audible barrier or alternative.

Every so often a repeated announcement comes over the speaker system...
"if you see something, say something".
I don't think it is suggesting saying something to others doing something,
but rather to push a nearby intercom button to report that something.
I am also not sure if doing so in front of perpetrators would be a good idea.

I can't but hear and make out a litany of curse words every fourth word or so, and a literary compilation that can be likely found on most pop songs today dubiously nominated for some ridiculous reward for 'creativity' or 'breakthrough'.

The sophisticated conversationalists [I'm being overtly sarcastic now] are sitting next to each other, but the volume would seem they are at either end of the train car.

In between loud outbursts are make-out sessions... and I happen to catch the unapproving eye of a female passenger sitting behind them.

I can't help but a laugh to myself a bit.

Taking a look at now an almost full train car, I can understand why many travelers have ear plugs in their ears.

Listening to anything but the topics discussed by passengers between downtown Long Beach and the Metro center in downtown Los Angeles makes sense.

I can fully understand the audible buffer zone that is desired.

If one closes their eyes while listening to their favored media, perhaps they can imagine themselves elsewhere.

I'm sorry... I've grown tired of these rides.

Perhaps if I was routinely on the train through the inner city I would have already grown accustomed.

Perhaps I've been living among the snooty and trendy far too long, likely thinking too highly of myself per my surroundings.

Each person's upbringing and immediate surroundings, not knowing any other, seems normal and relatively typical to them.

Perhaps I am afflicted by the contrasts of this life that are evident even on this train.

This purposed journey of near poverty of mine is taking its toll on my spirit - having afflicted my flesh long ago.

At a certain stop, a woman and her three small children embark.

Sitting in the empty seat next to me, the woman is managing a stroller with her youngest in it.

He is watching some kind of cartoon, and although it is loud, I do enjoy catching a glimpse of the cartoon and the animated drama therein.

I can see why people may prefer fiction to non, elevated reality rather than reality's sobering sting.

Reality television has blended fictionalized settings and production with non-fiction characters.

The momentary viewing of that cartoon's content brought me a momentary respite.

What is gracious in all these public transit travels is that the vast majority of riders are cordial, silent, and respective of their space in relation to that of others.

The majority of people are very considerate regarding their impact on others.

It is the darling few who cannot help but either voice or physically express their inner struggles for all to suffer along with, yet I wonder if they as individuals would see (or be ashamed) to see themselves in this way.

The train becomes quite full in short time as we travel deeper through the inner city, now only standing room is left.

It is getting warmer.

The woman who sat next to me is quite portly.

I'm sweating now, feeling a bit suffocated pitted against the wall and her.

Only this particular aisle has arm rests, likely because the conductor's door swings open into the train car (and between those arm rests).

The heat from a full train car and this discomfort of limited movement causes me to grow a bit restless.

I sit forward, trying to get comfortable.

After a few minutes, it doesn't help.

This, and the continuous loud chatting of those previously mentioned motivates me to disembark at the next stop ... only to quickly get on the adjacent train car.

I tried to make sure this was done out of view of my previous aisle mate.

I felt bad, but I couldn't endure the discomfort much longer.

Standing room only in the next car as well, but I can breathe and there is less noise where I'm standing.

I don't mind standing although I know I'll be walking over three miles soon enough.

[the preceding content was mostly written on the two trains towards Silver Lake]

I was pleasantly surprised to find these rock formations at the Vermont / Beverly subway station.
Thoughts of a paleontology museum or a Jurassic Park exhibition come to mind.

The exit / entrance to the Vermont / Beverly station.
Again the rock formations giving this station a unique stamp.

After a three mile trek from the train station at Vermont / Beverly Boulevard to Silver Lake Boulevard to Sunset Boulevard / Vermont station, I arrive to the subway and get on the first train back to Long Beach.

[the following content was mostly written in reflection well after my walk in Silver Lake, the pictures helping me remember certain details of my journey]

The neighborhoods change quite drastically after I disembarked off the Red Line at Vermont and Beverly.

I initially went about a quarter mile in the wrong direction (west), realizing my mistake after walking out of a nearby church - Saint Kevin's.

I stepped into this church looking for a bulletin board to post my ad onto.
Did not find anything of the sort here, but serene silence and solemn parishioners.

When I gathered my sense of direction, I made my way and crossed over into Silver Lake.

The demographics and buildings changed drastically.

Zoning.

West of Vermont on Beverly the area was quite dense with businesses and restaurants.

Seemingly a predominant Asian (saw several Korean and Chinese restaurants) and Latino (saw several Salvadoran restaurants) community judging from the people and businesses and their signs.

After walking past a bit of industrial space sparsely inhabited by some homeless camps,
I came across this mural which I found interesting - multi-shade hands coming out of the waters.
This is beneath the 101 (Hollywood).

Another interesting work of art, not my taste but still somewhat interesting.

Beneath the 101 freeway overpass there were homeless tents on both sides of the road (on both curbs).

It has been my visual experience that the homeless find spaces tolerable to the rest of humanity in between the zones.

The borders from one zone to another, alongside mass transit ways, and places sometimes out of sight, sometimes in full view but still tolerable due to the buffer zones of the zoning spaces.

I noticed a man in an orange vest picking up and bagging trash.

I found this notice on one of the overpass pylons.
There was quite a lot of trash still to be picked up,
and looking where the litter was found near the campsites,
logic leads to an obvious conclusion.

The restaurant El Caserio had these two nice heart-shaped hedges.

Passing beneath the freeway brought a drastic change from an industrial and littered walk into a neighborhood of mostly single family homes... to eventual multi-family housing (apartments).

It was like a couple blocks of nothing but faceless industrial buildings, lots of litter along the sidewalk between one multi-ethnic predominant neighborhood west of Vermont and a more homogenous and affluent demographic in Silver Lake just past the 101 freeway.

I stopped at a laundromat in search of a bulletin board to post my ad.

I had stopped at one when I went in the wrong initial direction, but they had no bulletin board to my surprise.

A man working at that laundromat west of Vermont suggested I try Facebook's ad space to search for a place.

I had not actually thought about that, ignoring most of the market aspects of Facebook for years.

Another interesting thing that caught my attention.
This was across the street from the second laundromat
I stopped at (the first one in Silver Lake).
I haven't made out what it says.

Arriving at the corner of Parkman Avenue and Sunset Boulevard (I took a side street - Parkman - off of Silver Lake Boulevard to arrive at Sunset sooner), I looked into Cafe Tropical for a bulletin board.

No dice.

But I did find a space where people place their adverts below the table where one mixes sugar and milk into their coffee.

The young gentlemen working the counter was kind and helpful.

This was funny to me, so I had to take a picture and share it.
Diablo restaurant.

This message is somewhat agreeable.
What are your dreams comprised of?

I had stopped into several other coffee shops and laundromats... no bulletins.

Some things may be missed when traveling by car.
I laughed out loud and was quite happy spotting this staircase.
The name of this business (Ali Mama) was also hilarious and enjoyable to read.

Near this splatter and shoe tracks of an unknown substance I posted my ad.
(corner of Sunset Boulevard and Micheltorena Street)

I posted my ad in a little wooden box affixed to a fence where people

share / trade their books... they were all non-fiction

and didn't draw my attention after flipping through them.

I shamelessly (and breaking a civil code) posted my ad here.
I had stopped to get a berry smoothie of some kind at the Farmer's Market.
It was resting from the heat in the shade at this corner sipping
the smoothie the thought came to me to break the law.
Can I blame the heat for my absence of thought?
It looks like someone is capitalizing on the news of TopGun 2
coming out and is throwing a party.
This was hilarious - Tom Cruise is throwing a rager (thumbs up).
There was one for Goose ("talk to me Goose") and Iceman and others.

An interesting pasted advert on plywood on a vacant lot's fence.
It's a rock band. 

What was once the Sunset Pacific Hotel... now entitled Big White Building.

I saw a billboard advertisement for this "religion" across the street.
Then as I walk past, I noticed this placard and this compound.
Best dressed grounds on this strip of Sunset.
Mr. Hubbard turned his work with pulp fiction into a wealthy institution.
He figured out utilizing celebrity could help legitimize his endeavors.

Arriving back to the underground world (or the Vermont / Sunset station).

I had made about 40 copies of my ad... but only managed to post / hand out maybe five.

Poor results, I know.

I was too embarrassed to keep posting my 'bandit sign' around town.

This effort reminded me of my real estate days where I would bend the law so far it was already broken regarding my effort to market myself / my business.

I don't have much to report about the train ride home... I was exhausted and a bit cut-off from everyone and everything.

After getting off the second train I stood waiting for a bus to my street.

It had been a long and tiring morning, and unable to do as I planned (post on acceptable bulletin boards) I just wanted to get back home, shower, and lay down for a bit without thinking about anything... then maybe getting a pizza.

I was a bit down feeling-wise and grumpy from the long train ride... tired of the usual things I see and hear on the trains.

As I'm standing there looking forward to getting home a woman is walking towards the bus stop and as she approaches is looking me up and down.

She says to me: you are looking cute today.

I tell her I appreciate that... and a smile comes to my face.

My bummed demeanor is softened a bit by her comment.

I realize I have been quite bitter and judgmental this trip.

Her kind words, regardless of their intention, lifted my thoughts.

I thanked the Lord now considering all things and remembering to be grateful.

Standing there at that bus stop I get ready for the bus and go into my pockets for the tap card and I feel something strange....

I found this 'weapon' on Beverly Boulevard between Vermont and the 101 freeway...
and I had forgotten putting it in my pocket.
I hope the child (likely a boy) who dropped it doesn't miss it too much.