Art with heart
Johnny “2/3” Anderson hosts art benefit for Harbor Rock Recovery Every Friday morning Johnny Anderson wakes up and makes his way down to the grassy oasis, known as Noble Park, that sits along The Strand between 14th and 15th streets in Hermosa Beach. It’s here he’s spent the last four years working to create a […]
Big summer / The tide in June
As they approached the sumptuous brunch, a flock of inordinately large pelicans floated by. In seconds the entire deck was completely plastered with bird droppings. The backyard instantly went from pristine to buried under two inches of white feces.
“All rivers run to the sea”
Runoff from the morning rains still poured from storm drains along the beach. It carved its way through the sand, reached the surf, and was swept out to sea. Dipping below the horizon, the sun cast the clouds a deep red. Electric lights throughout Pier Plaza buzzed to life and taxis along Hermosa Avenue began disgorging their passengers.
“The road often traveled: El Camino College”
This is the story of the profound influences that this 2-year community college had on my life. The memories flood the inner folds of my brain as I think back on those turbulent times on college campuses in the 1960s. It was crazy enough everywhere, but exceptionally so in the art departments. That is where I spent most of my time, as I pursued a dream career in the graphic design field.
“A monster in the garden”
My eyes narrow. This guy? I know I’m going to have anger issues with this idiot. He’s already a threat to exposing my secret.
“The Making of an activist”
He changed the topic to the Bukowski Library. “What do you think, guys? How ‘bout right over there?” while pointing at Berth 73. “Sure. Why not?” they said with little conviction. Vic left feeling most longies followed sports far more closely than literature, even the stories of a hometown wild man like Bukowski.
“Funny thing, the past. It isn’t”
My little sister Norma “remembered” the incident through my telling of it, 40 years later. And sometimes I wondered if it was real, if I had dreamt it or if I made it up, to test her, her loyalty, like the faithful Tonto to the Lone Ranger, my younger sister to me (I, the middle daughter), and at that time, thankfully, the bigger.
“Five summer stories”
Despite the prohibition, the soldiers allowed my mother to pass through a fence on the pier and snag herring,