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- Canto CCCLII: Down La Palma Avenue
Canto CCCLII: Down La Palma Avenue
Or: Camino de Anacrime
Gentle cabrones:
Broadway has movies and plays about it, and Champs-Élysées and Whittier Boulevard have songs about them, and Ed Ruscha photographed the Sunset Strip, while Mr. Gold walked Pico.
Has La Palma Avenue ever received any artistic love?
I wondered about that as I drove east on it for the umpteenth time in my life yesterday.
I once took former L.A. Times architecture critic Christopher Hawthorne down Harbor Boulevard in my ‘74 Eldorado with the top down, and my compa Anthony Pignataro once walked down Beach Boulevard from the top to the Pacific and wrote about it, and I once heard a Chicano rap song about cruising down Bristol that was the OC version of “West Coast Poplock” but was more funny than cholo — but La Palma Avenue?
Meanders east alongside the Santa Ana River from Yorba Linda through Anaheim Hills, slowly angles down from Imperial Highway to the 57 freeway — then runs as straight as the dash that I just used all the way to the Orange County-Los Angeles County border, where it turns into Del Amo Boulevard in Cerritos. One of OC’s main thoroughfares, but a utilitarian one — none of the angularity of Red Hill, the romance of PCH, the scruffiness of Ball Road. Carved out from the old orange groves, and still has some strawberry fields left.
It wasn’t until I drove on La Palma yesterday that I realized how important it is to me — how it’s the one street that captures my life in its entirety n a way no other street can.
No, seriously: Here’s the proof, from east to west, by intersection:
Somewhere out east: That’s how to get to my cousin Plácido’s house. I’ve only been two times, and not since he became a cocktail wizard even though him and his brother Vic are my favorite cousins. Need to visit him soon.
Imperial Highway: On the northeast corner is a Carl’s Jr. where in early 2012, Iraq War veteran Itzcoatl Ocampo murdered John Berry, a homeless Vietnam War veteran. It was the fourth homeless person that Ocampo had murdered within a month, a spree that OC has mostly forgotten. I never can — I broke the story of Ocampo committing suicide in the Orange County Jail after ingesting a bunch of packs of Ajax, and was the first person to get an interview with his grieving dad. How did I find out? I have sources…
Somewhat on the southwest corner but a further west is the Chance Theater, a place I just don’t visit enough.
Richfield Road: A turn north and you’re in the Atwood barrio, site of Parque de los Niños, where a Chicano mural stood abandoned for decades until 2019, when it was miraculously restored. There’s a panel there that commemorates the Great Flood of 1938, Orange County’s worst natural disaster and one that claimed too many lives in this barrio and that I teach every time I teach my Latinx History of Orange County class. I wanted to tell the story of the rebirth of this mural, but I never got around to it because 2019 was when my mami died, and I left too many stories I’m still getting to.
Cosby Way: Across the street is the Kaiser Permamente hospital, where my mami was operated on for her ovarian cancer, and where I took her to not enough radiation treatments. Never a happy place for me when I see it off the 91.
Ocean Circle: Site of the former Fry’s Electronics, where Plas worked for years and where shenanigans happened.
Shephard Street: The way in to Camelot, where Plas worked before Fry’s and which I THINK I’ve written about — man, I really need to catalogue my cantos. Also former site of the long-demolished Family Fun Center, where I used to work at and of which I have stories for DAZE. Plas: We need to work on our Scamalot script stat!
Kraemer Avenue/Glassell Street: Go south on Glassell, and I’d be getting on the onramp to the 91 West and either the quick way home to my parents back in the day, or to the 57 South to my home today. Go north, and that’s how I’d go visit Plas and Vic back in the day; today, it’s how I get to Restaurant Depot for my media chica after I get off the 91 east.
Frontera Street: A weird street that runs parallel to the 91 east that I had never even noticed until the funeral of my mami. From La Palma Avenue, we took that road, then another and another until we connected to Santa Ana Canyon Road and on toward Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Orange. Probably won’t get on this road again until the next funeral — sigh…
Blurry shot of La Palma Avenue near Anna Drive from my iPhone. I need a new iPhone — UGH…
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Sunkist Street: The way in to Sunkist Elementary, where I was bussed to for fifth and sixth grade because I was apparently gifted and talented. I have mostly fond memories of Sunkist, and I made good friends there — but junior high split up most of us, and high school ended all friendships. Am not in contact with any of them — not even on social media, although I’ve heard from some over the yearsin. One married a girl from El Cargadero, which is incredible but not surprising because Anacrime #socalcitynicknames
Whittier Street: A cousin used to live in the apartments there for a few years after getting married.
State College Boulevard: Northeast corner is a giant shopping plaza that housed the late, great JC Fandango, which I wrote about early on in this canto and wrote about un chingo at the Infernal Rag. As I wrote before, I saw at least 100 shows here in just four years because all I had to do was drive down La Palma to get home. Those days were Cuba Libre days — have I written about the cocktails of my life? Man, I need to catalogue these cantos.
Baxter Street: Go north, and that’s where my cousin’s wife grew up, and where my best friend from Sunkist also lived. I remember he once had a sleepover for our group of friends: A Mexican, a Korean, an Indian, and a Taiwanese see Tales from the Crypt in its initial run and play Sega Genesis. We had good, innocent times.
Go south, and that’s Sycamore Junior High. Horrid place — even the one time I was asked to speak there as an adult went terrible. Always grumble every time I drive by even to this day, but do like the squat building next to it that used to be a Maronite Christian Church and now houses a Shia mosque.
Anna Drive: Site of the police killing of Manuel Diaz in 2012, which set off riots outside City Hall and was the closest the city ever came to a political revolution. Also the one and only time I was hit up by cholos when I was walking back home from Sycamore. Like I said, next-to-no nice memories.
Wanda Drive: On the southwest corner is St. Anthony Claret Catholic Church, the satellite parish for the El Cargadero diaspora. I only go here for funerals nowadays, sadly, since all the cousins have married and their kids are probably a decade away from getting married. I shall grow old, I shall grow old…and then right across the street is some weird ass mansion that has been there my entire life and I STILL don’t get it — and now Google Earth tells me it has a big-ass swimming pool — WTF?!
East Street: Northwest corner has a huge reservoir that’s always empty and that has the unfortunate name of the Raymond Retarding Basin.
Pauline Street: A turn south and I’m at the home of my best friend growing up, and my best friend in junior high. Both from Jerez, both whom I talked to last year because of funerals.
Patt Street: The bus that used to take me to Sunkist Elementary would pick up kids here, so we’d swing by Julianna Park, still one of the smallest parks I’ve ever seen.
Anaheim Boulevard: Go south, and you get to downtown; it ends going north to what are being turned into apartments or condos or something but was a rims store for what seemed liked decades.
Lemon Street: Northwest corner is home to La Palma Park, where: 1) My family used to go to the Cinco de Mayo fair; 2) I took taekwondo lessons at a Quonset hut that’s been closed for years; 3) is Glover Stadium, where the Anaheim High Colonists still play their football games and which hosted my Sycamore Junior High and Anaheim High School graduations; 4) features a dog park where my dad used to take our family’s late chocolate Lab, Canelo. Southeast corner is home to an American Legion post, where El Cargadero folks used to have parties until we began making money.
Harbor Boulevard: Northwest corner is a 7-11 that used to have pinball games, specifically Terminator 2: Judgement Day, which I used to play before getting on the OCTA bus to Sycamore.
West Street: The way home from Anaheim High. The southwest corner has a medical building where my childhood doctor had her office. Nice Cuban woman…Dr. S or something. Mentioned her once in the canto — MAN, do I need to catalogue them.
Dresden Street: South on it was the home of my high school sweetheart. Just north of it was a former funeral home where her father’s wake was, but which has been a Coptic Church for at least 20 years now.
Euclid Avenue: The way home today. Southeast corner is a former Alpha Beta’s turned Ralph’s turned Dearden’s turned a recently opened Seafood City. In the same shopping plaza was the site of the late, great La Palma Chicken Pie Shop. Northeast corner is what I think is the cheapest Mobil station in OC. Northwest corner used to be Anaheim’s Thai Corner, although there aren’t as many businesses anymore.
Anaheim Shores: A curving street that’s always been a shortcut for my family.
Brookhurst Street: North, and that would be the way to Hunt’s-Wesson, where my mami worked. South is the gateway to Little Arabia and also Brookhurst Junior High, where my mami sent my brother so he didn’t have to go to Sycamore (neither did my sisters, who went to Catholic school). Brookhurst is also the site of Brookhurst Park, site, of too many Senior Major Little League humiliations — but at least I can smile about those!
Dale Street: Now we’re in Buena Park. Northeast corner is Athenian Burgers #3, home to the best breakfast burrito in Southern California. Southwest corner is whatever the hell remains of the Buena Park Mall, which I always liked because there used to be a B. Dalton’s bookstore on the bottom floor — and they ALWAYS had stacks of Scientology books. Almost made my mami buy me a copy of Dianetics, because what young boy doesn’t like an image of a volcano?
Beach Boulevard: Southwest corner is Knott’s Berry Farm, which we didn’t go to too much growing up because I don’t like fast rides. I remember this corner more for its northeast quadrant, where there used to be a Filipino restaurant where the waitress mocked me for liking Filipino food. Still gave them a nice review because the food was good.
Valley View Boulevard: Northwest corner was the site of Ellen’s Pinoy Grille, which was an awesome turo turo spot where the owner complimented me for liking Filipino food — their bangus always rocked.
West of that? Terra incognita, even to this day.
**
Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:
My media chica
IMAGE OF THE WEEK: My honey at last night’s University High School-Pacifica game in Irvine. She and her Class of ‘94 are celebrating their 30th high school reunion this weekend. Uni lost 42-0 — man, the crowd was more moribund than an Angels game, but her classmates are super cool. Photo by Victoria, I think…
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “True music must repeat the thought and inspirations of the people and the time. My people are Americans and my time is today” — George Gershwin
LISTENING: “Solace - A Mexican Serenade,” Scott Joplin, as interpreted by Joshua Rifkin. Always be open to learn and dig, people! It was only two weeks ago that I learned that the ragtime maestro was forgotten for decades until Rifkin — a music professor — recorded an album of Joplin tunes that sold a million copies and was how the producers for The Sting were inspired to highlight “The Entertainer” in that zany film. Wow, even Scott Joplin loved Mexican music! Can you spot the danzón rhythms in this one?
READING: “Pervert Patient Zero”: There used to be a magazine stand in downtown SanTana that had an eclectic collection of titles — that’s how I found out about The Gay & Lesbian Review. SUCH a well-written publication, with dives both serious and academic, almost all with a dash of Margo Channing. This article delves into the earliest descriptions of homosexuality in American medical journals, and rescues dignity from the disgust of the doctors detailing their anonymous patients.
BUY MY NEW CO-BOOK! People’s Guide to Orange County tells an alternative history of OC through the scholarship and reporting of myself, Elaine Lewinnek, and Thuy Vo Dang. There’ll be signings all year — in meanwhile, buy your copy TODAY. And, yes: I’ll autograph it!
Gustavo Events
Oct. 11, 7 p.m.: Rancho Gordo Encuentro — the collaboration between the legendary heirloom bean purveyor and my honey’s Alta Baja Market — is BACK. It’s a weekend of beans, and I’m in charge of two events: “The Bean Monologues” (exactly what it sounds like — people tell stories about beans), and “How to Taste a Tortilla,” which is also what it sounds like AND you get to take home good tortillas!. The tortilla one is basically sold out; the Bean Monologues in downtown SanTana is nowhere near — so buy tickets to that one, damnit! $15 for an evening of food, speeches and books? What else are you going to be doing?
Oct. 18, 5 p.m.: I’ll be talking about my career at Saddleback College’s WordFest OC. It’s FREE, but you gotta RSVP here. (Note: I’m scheduled to just speak for 45 minutes, but I’ll also stick around for dinner through 7 because who wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to eat tacos?)
Saturday, Oct. 26-Nov. 10: Well, I wasn’t expecting this one. The play based on My Former Columna, Interview with a Mexican is being staged by Su Teatro in Denver…in Los Angeles as part of the Encuentro 2024 A National Theatre Festival — WHOA…There are a couple of performances scheduled, but I’m going to be at the one scheduled for Oct. 26 at 8 p.m. My theater year continues — buy your tickets here. More in a canto to come…
Gustavo in the News
“Check out these freebies and deals for National Taco Day”: The obligatory citation of me.
“Día Nacional del Taco en Estados Unidos: checa estas ofertas imperdibles hasta el 4 de octubre”: En español también, güey.
“How a Top House Race Became a Fight Over Communism, Immigration, and Asian American Identity”: Mother Jones covers the 45th congressional district race between Michelle Steele — whose ads on Channel 9 are making her out to be a veritable Gloria Steinam even though she ain’t — and challenger Derek Tran.
Gustavo Stories
“Grítale a Guti”: Latest edition of my Tuesday night IG Live free-for-all.
“Anaheim’s ‘Little Arabia’ gets signage after decades of advocacy”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about something that took way too long because Anacrime politics can be too gaba.
“This California bill is why people hate Sacramento under Democratic rule”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about the ridiculous 2 a.m. last call carveout for a VIP club at the Los Angeles Clippers’ new arena. KEY QUOTE: “To paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald, I guess the rich drink different from you and me — and Sacramento is helping them tipple it up.”
“The real problem with L.A. Latino politics isn’t City Council boundaries”: My next latest L.A. Times columna talks about the eternal expectation that Latinos should vote for Latino candidates. KEY QUOTE: “But anyone who thinks that Latinos vote only for Latinos in today’s city is seriously mistaken — or a Chicanosaurus.”
You made it this far down? Gracias! Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram while you’re down here by clicking on their logos down below. Don’t forget to forward this newsletter to your compadres y comadres! You can’t get me tacos anymore, but you sure as hell can give them — and more — to the O.C. Catholic Worker!