Yenny from the City of Angels

The city of my dreams and the woman of my dreams

On my fascination with Los Angeles, a small gesture of gratitude for Yenny, and ruminations on fate and destiny

I.

From the introduction to Spike Lee’s Summer of Sam, Jimmy Breslin:

“Hello Ladies & Gentlemen, boys and girls, my name is Jimmy Breslin. I’m a writer. I write about New York, the city of my birth, where I’ve lived and worked all my life, the city that I love and hate both equally. …There are 8 million stories in the naked city and this is one of them.”

Four of my favorite film directors –Woody Allen, Spike Lee, Darren Aronofsky, and Martin Scorcese– all incorporate heavy homage to their beloved New York City in their films. And I love that. They take the city they have a strong, personal connection to and express that admiration through the setting for their films.

I am picturing Isaac and Mary talking in front of the Queensboro bridge in Manhattan, Mookie delivering a pizza in Bed-Stuy in Do the Right Thing, Harry approaching Marion on a Coney Island pier in Requiem for a Dream, Travis driving his cab around Manhattan in Taxi Driver.

I used to daydream that if I were to become a big time movie director, I would praise Los Angeles and honor it the way these directors honor NYC. With each passing moment, however, the certainty that I’ll never become a film director slowly seeps in, and I realize I must take recourse in other actions, through other ways. This is the best way that I can honor my favorite city, Los Angeles: through my meager ability to write and type.

II.

When I was about 9 years old or so, my brother, my mom and I went grocery shopping one particular night. On the ride back home, we got hit by a car while crossing the corner of Cedar and Foothill. To this day, it isn’t clear who ran the red light, whether my brother did or whether the other driver did. I’ll give my brother the benefit of the doubt.

My brother and I were lucky and got out unharmed. Unfortunately, my mom received back and shoulder injuries. As a result of some sort of private settlement that I didn’t understand as a 7 year old and still don’t understand to this day, my family got free treatment at a chiropractor in El Monte, some 45 miles away from my house in Rialto, CA.

My brother and my mom would pick me up at school, and we would all make the trip to El Monte. To get there, we would take the 10 West, then, to avoid the weekday traffic, the 57 North, and finally the 210 west. The first time we made the trip, along the 57 North, I looked westward and saw, against the sunset, the silhouette of the downtown Los Angeles skyline But I didn’t know what it was. 

An approximation of what I saw as a child on on Google Streetview. Click on it to see it zoom in.

I thought I saw mountains shaped like perfect, little rectangular blocks. I asked my brother what it was that I saw, and he told me that they were buildings, that they were the skyscrapers of L.A. I thought he was playing with me.  “Yeah… right,” I thought to myself. I’d been told enough of these lies and experienced enough pranks to swallow that without any skepticism. After finding out gullible was actually in the dictionary, I vowed to never again fall for shit like that. I was like Scarlett in Gone with the Wind.

Once I expressed my skepticism out loud, my brother told me he would prove it to me one day. And he did. He drove me through the heart of downtown L.A. on the 101 and the 110 and I saw the skyscrapers up close and personal and was able to confirm them as actual buildings. I looked up at them with the sort of awe and reverence that only a child can muster. I really couldn’t believe buildings that tall, that colossal could exist. It was magical. I declared it then and there: Los Angeles, I’m yours.

The details surrounding these events are somewhat fuzzy to me now. The impressions, however, are strongly imprinted on me. To this day, I love that Los Angeles Skyline. I take almost every opportunity I get to stare at it for at least a few seconds. To be honest with you, I could stare at it for hours.

III.

When I was about 10 or 11, I started my very own private photo album, which only I could add photos to. I stole the contact sheets that my brother printed for a black and white photography class he took, and I cut out my favorite thumbnail photos and arranged them to fit into my little amateur photo album. Next to portraits of my family are photos of those L.A. skyscrapers that my brother took. Images of the city ranked up there among pictures of my family as part of my favorite photos. Can’t you just see my childhood fascination with Los Angeles in these images?

The Top 4 Thumbnails are photos of Los Angeles. The rest are photos of my family.

IV.

As fate would have it, I ended up attending UCLA when I was 18.

The first time I ate in the Hedrick dining hall, I sat alone by the windows facing eastward and ate while looking at the skyscrapers basking in the orange/pinkish glow of the setting sun. I stayed there for about an hour just by myself, pensively watching the cityscape transition from daylight to twilight, watching it with admiration…

….as well as with anxiety.

My first quarter at UCLA, I was a little afraid of taking the train back home to Rialto. And by a little I mean very. I figured out the bus and subway route to Union Station, and I would take the Metrolink back home.  I was much too scared to stray from the path, to deviate from my calculated route even slightly. Hell, just staying on the path had me a little petrified.

That fear, or really anxiety, was, I believe, a trait naturally derived from being raised in my family. My family never really traveled much. The aforementioned trips to El Monte, a trip to Disneyland, and a few dozen trips up to the San Bernardino Mountains were the exceptions. Other than these, my family pretty much stayed within a 20 to 30 mile radius of my house. And, as a result, I never really developed a desire to travel and explore. As a matter of fact, when I was a teenager, imagining my future, I unquestionably assumed I would be living and working around this area that I was raised in, living near or even with my family.

So as I had dinner in Hedrick, I looked out at Los Angeles, which loomed larger than life, and admired the view, but I also felt a knot in my stomach. The decision to attend UCLA was pretty difficult for me for that reason. I was so scared of leaving home that I almost chose to attend UCR instead. Seriously, UCR instead of UCLA –the fact that this was considered might give you a hint as to how scary leaving home felt to me.

But after being at UCLA for a while, I slowly started to feel a little more comfortable with exploring. I went with a few friends to Chinatown. I went with a large group to Hollywood. But I still had a lot of anxiety about traveling. And I didn’t do much of it.

Then Yenny came into my life. And everything changed.

V.

I consider myself a relatively cultured person. I read lots of different kinds of literature, watch lots of classic & foreign films with my film buff brother, listen to a wide variety of music. I took art history classes and read through pretty much all of Gardner’s Art Throughout The Ages. I research different religions and philosophy. I watch a lot of TV shows and play a few video games. I immerse myself in all sorts of culture.

But Yenny introduced me to an aspect of culture that I never cultivated.

I don’t know what the proper label for this kind of culture would be. Geographical?

Yenny and I were mere acquaintances our first year of college. I started to hang out with her more often, and very often, during second year. My first trip with Yenny was a trip to Santa Monica. Nick came with us. He had broken up with his high school girlfriend, was feeling quite crestfallen, and the three of us decided, what the hell, let’s go to the beach spontaneously. For more than a year, I had lived within 5 or 6 miles of the beach, without even once considering going there. I finally went when Yenny suggested it (in fact, my whole life, I lived a good 60 miles away from the beach and I went twice or thrice period).

Here are 3 photos I took of Yenny on that first trip to Santa Monica. 

Witnessing the grandeur of the Pacific, seemingly infinite upon the horizon, I realized I had been missing valuable life experiences. And Yenny helped me recognize that.

That first little adventure to Santa Monica is incredibly important to me, and Santa Monica is now one of my favorite places on earth. I even asked my friend, Shasha to make a painting of it for me because that picturesque pier is one of my favorite images. It’s etched on my mind, engraved into my memories.

VI.

On May 18^th, 2007 Yenny and I started our romantic relationship, and afterwards, she took me all over Los Angeles.

Yenny from the City of Angels became my tour guide.

Yenny and I went to all of these places and had the time of our lives:

1. Griffith Park & Griffith Observatory
2. Los Angeles Union Station
3. Grand Central Market
4. Callejones, a.k.a. Fashion District
5. The Los Angeles Central Library
6. The J. Paul Getty Museum
7. The Getty Villa
8. LACMA
9. Exposition Park, Museum of Natural History, Rose Garden, & California Science Center
10. La Plazita Olvera
11. China Town
12. Korea Town
13. Little Tokyo
14. The Korean Friendship Bell in San Pedro
15. Dodger Stadium
16. Hollywood BLVD, Grauman’s Chinese Theater, & The Walk of Fame
17. The Hollowood Bowl
18. The Hollywood Sign
19. Redondo Beach
20. Long Beach Marina- to visit Brittany on The Carnival Cruise line
21. Santa Monica
22. Venice Beach
23. Dockweiler Beach
24. The Sunset Strip
25. SONY Pictures Studios in Culver City
26. DISNEYLAND!
27. 24 Hour Fitness in Downtown L.A. 

At Griffith Observatory

At the Getty Villa

At the California Science Center

At Santa Monica

At Venice Beach

We’ve eaten at

28. Roscoe’s Chicken & Waffles
29. Philippe’s
30. Mel’s Drive In
31. Katsuya

These are places that we still have yet to visit:

1. Walt Disney Concert Hall
2. Staples Center
3. Angels Flight
4. Pershing Square
5. LA Coliseum
6. MOCA
7. The La Brea Tar Pits
8. Watts Towers
9. Pink’s Hot Dogs
10. El Matador Beach

VII.

It’s amusing to me when people use this phrase to express overwhelming emotions: “Words cannot express the [insert inexpressible emotion –joy/pain/amazement/etc…] I am feeling...” and then follow by trying to describe what they feel. Why would you announce that something cannot be done and then try to do that something right after? I would love it if someone started a speech that way and then just stopped talking after that.

Really, though, you cannot blame them for using that as an introductory statement. Sometimes it is completely apropos…

Words cannot express how I feel about Los Angeles. Los Angeles is a remarkable city full of history, culture, beauty…

Hypocrisy anyone? My meager ability to write is utterly inadequate for the purpose of expressing my fascination with and admiration for the City of Angels. All I can say is Los Angeles is fucking great!

This city is a lot of fun. Then again, it helps a lot to have good company, especially from someone like Yenny, who introduces me to her favorite places with a sense of adventure and a charming spirit.

VIII.

And now the dénouement of sorts, the crux in terms of a personal & philosophical point:

There’s a scene in The Matrix where Morpheus asks, “Do you believe in fate, Neo?”

Neo says, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.”

Morpheus says to him, “I know exactly what you mean.”

I agree with you both, Morpheus and Neo. I don’t like that idea either.  

I can’t recall a time when my intellect was more disgusted than when I first learned about Calvinism in school. The idea that God foreordains salvation for some and not for others seemed incredibly unfair to me and even my young mind was able to recognize the conflict with the concept of freewill. You would be surprised to find that your mind can vomit within itself.

After Romeo slays Tybalt in Romeo & Juliet, he exclaims “O, I am fortune’s fool!” What a terrible thing to be. I refuse to think that I or anyone could be fortune’s fool. I am not a plaything of (the) God(s). I refuse to think that anything is predestined. I do not believe in fate or destiny that way.

However, there may be something subversive working to erode my resistance to these ideas…

As I was being raised in Rialto, cloistered, hardly traveling outside the parameters of a certain domain, Yenny was busy being raised in Torrance, traveling all over Los Angeles and other parts of the world. As a child, I developed an inexplicable attraction to the city of Los Angeles, and as a young adult I moved to Los Angeles and there I met and fell in love with a girl who adored the city equally, probably even more so than me. Yenny, born in Boyle Heights, my blue jean baby, my L.A. Lady, my lucky little lady in the city of light, she loves Los Angeles with a fervent passion.

And… of all the schools, in all the towns, in all the world, she just had to go to mine.

The greater Los Angeles area has about 17 or 18 million people, and Yenny and I managed to meet up. Cliché time: is it kismet? Was this part of some deity’s will? O ye gods of statistical analysis, what is the probability that a child with a fascination for the city of Los Angeles, with an inchoate, suppressed desire to travel will meet and fall for someone with a fascination for that same city, with a fully realized desire to travel nourished by her family’s upbringing?

As a child I always wanted to sightsee in and around Los Angeles, but my family just liked to pass by. What a coincidence that I meet a girl who wants to take someone sight seeing around Los Angeles? Is it possible some oracle prophesied this? Was this meant to be?

This may seem a bit of a stretch based merely on the aforementioned, but there is so much more that we have in common or are compatible with.

And I have to speculate that God himself

Did make us into corresponding shapes like

Puzzle pieces from the clay. ¹

Hmmm….

Maybe there’s something to this destiny thing after all.

Who knows?

IX.

Apart from the enrichment that came from augmenting my store of culture, the trips all over Los Angeles have swelled the mystic chords of my memory; have gotten me in touch with the better angels of my nature. 

He only is rich who owns the day. ²

Traveling with Yenny has taught me that I should spurn material possessions, perishable and transient as they tend to be, in exchange for the experience of the moment, which, though ostensibly transient, actually lives on in the memory and is everlastingly imprinted on the soul.

Yenny is my companion, and the city I lived in, she’s my companion too. Yenny and I plan to travel in the future to other great cities like New York, Chicago, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Mexico City, Paris, London, etc… But we will always love the city that introduced us to each other and that helped our love flourish.

There are some 4 or 5 million stories in the City of Angels and this was one of them.

Yenny & Me marching for the rights of immigrants in Downtown, May 1st, 2010

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[1] The Postal Service –Such Great Heights

[2] –Ralph Waldo Emerson