What do you do when your flight is delayed and you have
about 8 hours to kill at the L.A. airport?
You hop in a cab or Super Shuttle van and go to one of the
nearby towns. I looked at a map on my phone and saw that LAX isn’t that far
from Venice Beach. I had been once before, years ago, and remember the lovely
homes on the canals, quirky shops. I wanted to see it again.
Super Shuttle dropped me and a confused Japanese tourist off
in front of a hostel. We were just steps
away from the broadwalk that lines the beach, and the glorious beach itself. I
wasn’t dressed for the occasion, I was dressed for a cross country flight back
to the colder East Coast.
Walked a little on the sand but didn’t go down to the water,
I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist getting my feet wet, which would mean
getting my jeans wet, which would mean stinking up my Virgin America flight
with the not so subtle scent of seaweed and dead sea life.
There is a graffiti park and a skate park. I spent a while
watching the impressive skaters zoom around the concrete waves. I am reminded
of how easy it is to crush on skater boys.
I have lunch at a small restaurant with outdoor seating
right on the broad walk, enjoy a stereotypically light and Mediterranean
chicken and salad lunch. I’m inspired to sketch the guy sitting across from my
table, in his skater clothes and big sunglasses. I guess that he pays a lot of
money to dress like he doesn’t have a lot of money.
Lots of shirtless boys. I could eat this weather with a
spoon.
One dorky guy rolls by on a Segway. Not a cop, there isn’t a
police officer in sight for most of the day, unless they are mostly
plainclothes. Finally, 4 mounted officers clop by on the broadwalk.
Surfers. Lots of surfers.
The beach is wide. Breeze is fantastic, classic palm trees.
This, this is world-class people watching.
Between the crazy shirtless homeless guy yelling random
stuff, the tourists, the bodybuilders, the beachgoers, the skater boys,
cyclists, hipsters, hula hoop hippies, bikini babes, vatos, sunglass hawkers,
street performers, artists and folks dressed in scrubs trying to sell you a
medical marijuana card, your head spins.
Incidentally, those medical marijuana “evaluations” seemed
to range in price from $30 to $40. Don’t go to the first shop you come to off
the main street, walk a few blocks away and the price drops. For the record, I
did not go into any of them. Sketch-ola.
At one point, a guy whizzed by in a motorized wheelchair,
pulling a midget in a smaller wheelchair.
There were lots of people with dogs, and 90% of the dogs
were either Chihuahuas or pit bulls. If I lived in L.A. County, I’d need to
make some changes. I’d need bigger sunglasses for one thing, and an agent. I’d
need a pit bull, and abs.
Many people seem to live at the beach and have fairly
elaborate tents or live-in vans arranged with their earthly belongings. Many of
the vans are elaborately painted and have signs that say NO PHOTOS. Like many
beach communities, the indigents are mixed in freely with the multi-million
dollar homes and well-to-do residents. Beautiful, flower-lined homes are
juxtaposed with what I can best describe as beach hovels. They all get roughly the
same view.
Someone was selling frozen popcorn. There was lots of live
music. Did I mention rollerblades? I thought that was a fad but it has lived on
loud and proud in Venice Beach. There were lots of cool beach cruiser bikes and
several not as cool recumbent bicycles.
Many artists selling wares ranging from bad paintings to not
so bad paintings to windchimes to everything in between … there were several
groups of homeless people selling a variety of hand-lettered cardboard signs
that appeared to be made for other homeless people … which made me wonder about
their business model.
I commend the vendors and performers for their creativity.
There are your usual spiritual advisors offering readings.
All of Venice Beach is a freak show, but there is a formal
freak show that charges admission ($9). I didn’t go in, but it appeared to be
family friendly. Tip: later in the day, the price drops to $5.
There is a guy who for a dollar will tell you why there is a
pyramid on your dollar bill.
Guy selling advice, sign says “ask me any question.”
Further down, a man advertises “shitty advice” for $1.
Talk about diversity. I noted a group of guys with big
bellies all wearing wife beaters, tucked in to their pants.
A man walks by wearing a Baby Bjorn (with a baby in it),
shirtless. (the man, not the baby)
A guy who looked like Christopher Walken on his worst day
walks by with his shirt wide open wearing breezy beach pants.
There was a group of young Asian breakdancers practicing on
the Joe Wieder body building stage. People playing handball.
Dog in a bike basket. Endless blue sky. Tandem bikes. Shul
on the beach.
I enjoyed a lovely lemon and olive oil gelato at Nice Cream.
I sit on a bench in the sun, rapidly licking gelato before
it runs down my hand. I watch a man either doing tai chi or fighting with the
grass. He is yelling and cursing, which would seem to rule out tai chi. I’m
careful not to make eye contact with anyone.
Another guy madly revs a matchbox car. Someone gets into a fight with a portrait
artist.
I walk a couple of blocks off the beach and have some of the
best ceviche of my life. Sadly, I catch a cab back to the airport to catch my
red eye, and don’t even mind that I have sand in my shoes.
Later, friends will ask me, why the hell did you go to
Venice Beach?
Check out my photo gallery here. I could have taken pictures
for days, but phone battery life worked against me.
