Rosy Palms

Between March 2004 and April 2006, I lived in a cozy 1950s fourplex in western Palms, just up the street from Cafe Brasil. Life was good: I had my own garage, the rent was cheap, and I was never more than 30 minutes from USC, where I’m a grad student. I do miss the old nabe sometimes so let’s take a tour of ye olde stomping grounds.

coffee bean

Our journey begins at one of Palms’ landmarks. What’s so special about this boring-ass little Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf? Well, it was on TV. Ooh! Yes, this was the diner on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the show that allowed the nation’s geeks, dweebs, and spazzes the chance–if only for an hour a week–to imagine a world in which weirdos were actually good-looking. The sign for the Long’s and the TJ’s thankfully covers up the “JAMDAT” sign on the ugly 1980s office building in the background. Anyone who’s ever been stuck on the northbound 405–which, if I’m not mistaken, is at least 78% of the human race–should recognize it.

guelaguetza

The next stop is right across the parking lot. Guelaguetza is, dollar for dollar, probably the best restaurant on the Westside. The fact that it shares a building with a dry cleaner and a water store makes it that much more awesome. The Día de los Muertos paraphernalia on the walls is also a nice touch. Gustavo Arellano says that there’s a Oaxacan place in Orange County that blows Guelaguetza out of the water, but I refuse to believe him.

national and overland

Here’s Ryan’s favorite intersection! Notice how I deftly navigated to the correct lane continuing eastbound on National, rather than dumping myself onto the Santa Monica Freeway at 4 PM.

Irish Times

Two of Palms’ most revered institutions: Irish Times and the ass-ugly 1950s dingbat box apartment building.

taco plus

Taco Plus: making the independent taqueria safe for Baja Fresh-loving gabachos.

united oil

Probably the cheapest gas on the Westside is at National and Castle Heights. My roommate rides his bike by here every morning at 4:45 on the way to work in Beverly Hills and says it’s busy even then. And yes, the fact that I can use the phrase “cheap gas” to describe $3.25 regular is causing my left lower eyelid to twitch again.

actors gang

This building once housed a giant rectifier that provided DC power for the Red Cars that went to Santa Monica, Venice, and ultimately to Redondo Beach (via Playa del Rey). Now, it houses the theater company of a giant rectum, Tim Robbins.

museum of jurassic technology

The Museum of Jurassic Technology: come for the Mount Wilson Observatory letters, stay for the Pope John Paul II single human hair sculpture.

versailles

Versailles, where even the tap water has garlic and lemon pepper in it.

victor

This delightfully faux-Deco mixed-use development had signs out front calling it “The Victor” announcing it would be ready for tenants in Spring 2006, but those signs have disappeared. Shame. I would love to live in a building with that name, or perhaps “The Conqueror,” “The Generalissimo,” or “The Bill DeMarco.”

surplus store

I hate Ayn Rand and “Objectivism” like a genital wart, but I can’t say I disagree with the hero of The Fountainhead about classical columns on post offices and banks. But hey–now I know where to go when I need a sling for my AR-15.

gabys

Decent food at Gaby’s and an ever-changing cast of hot Brazilian waitresses who will give you amazingly shitty service if you don’t look like a bed-tanned, $400-sunglasses-wearing Industry type from the Sony studios just across Venice.

ugly duplexes

Picture yourself as a developer in the 1950s. “Hmm, I’ve got this piece of land here on Venice…what to do, what to do…oh, I know! I’ll build some ass-ugly, soul-crushing concrete duplex bungalows, and then paint them Sea Foam Green to make them look even uglier! Yeah!”

mannequins

There’s a severe gluteal mismatch between this store’s customer base and its mannequins.

cafe brasil

I think I had the $6.95+tax (coming out to $7.52 exactly) Executive Lunch at Cafe Brasil at least 2-3 times/week in 2005. Gloriously marinated chicken breast, spicy black beans, rice, salsa, and fried plantains. I took my folks here once and they asked, “Honestly, why would you eat anything else?” I responded, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

graffiti war

After a long period of 18th Street dominance, it appears that the Sotel barrio is trying to muscle in on the lucrative business of selling blow to white college graduates. Oh, Palms, how I love you.