1942
I have now to go and vote. I hope Governor Olsen and Will Rogers will be elected.
GALKA SCHEYER
1978
The plane ride stretches on until the hour seems to last an eternity and we’ll never come down. At this point, I always want to keep going….
Los Angeles appears. Its unsure beginnings creeping northward—not knowing when to stop and where to begin. We begin the descent—so soon?
So quickly.
Must we come down just yet?
She’s yellow now. She’s skating so low on the horizon that there’s no place left to go but up. Yet down, down and down we continue. Shaking and bumping like a four wheel drive jeep across the desert….
Remember the rugs—positive and negative spaces, borders interlock. If L.A. was a carpet, I wouldn’t buy it. It’s missing all the essential geometric properties. All of them. It just spreads monotonously. But beautifully from this altitude. I’ll be fair as I put the pen away.
AARON PALEY
NOVEMBER 4
1892
I cut down a eucalyptus tree sixty feet high and made a pole and began laboriously to worm its point down through the bottom of the shaft. The process would have discouraged anyone not possessing the sublime faith that we possessed that a few inches or a few more feet at the most would tap for us incalculable wealth.
Suddenly gas spewed out and oil flooded the shaft to a depth of ten or fifteen feet in a few moments.
E. L. DOHENY
1956
One of Ginsberg’s poems was called Howl. It was a great, long, desperate wail, a struggle to make poetry out of all the objects, surroundings and people he had known. At times, it reached a kind of American surrealism, a bitter irony; it had a savage power. At moments, it did seem like the howling of animals. It reminded me of Artaud’s mad conference at the Sorbonne.
Then a man in the audience challenged Ginsberg in a stupid way. “Why must you write about the slums? Isn’t it enough that we have them?”
Ginsberg was in a frenzy of anger. He proceeded to take off all his clothes, throwing each piece to the audience. My friend Ingrid received the soiled jockey shorts. He provoked and challenged the man to come and expose his feelings and his real self as nakedly as he had. “Come and stand here, stand naked before the people. I dare you! The poet always stands naked before the world.”
The man in the packed audience tried to leave. Ginsberg said: “Now let someone dare to insult a man who offers what he feels nakedly before everyone….” The way he did it was so violent and direct, it had so much meaning in terms of all our fears of unveiling ourselves. The man in the audience was booed and hissed until he left. People began to throw his clothes back to Ginsberg. But he sat at ease on the couch and showed no signs of dressing again….The two poets went on reading for hours. I left, thinking it was like a new surrealism born of the Brooklyn gutter and supermarkets.
ANAÏS NIN
NOVEMBER 5
1906
Good day! My bullfrogs have come—and are now sitting in my bath tub waiting till I can make a good cage for them in the fountain, so that they can increase and multiply, and also so that they can’t eat up the minnows and the goldfish….4 fine brutes. They are somewhat impressed by their journey in a tight box all the way from Chicago….But the bawmy air of California will doubtless put them in singing trim very soon. Really, I do feel mighty good at getting them. There is nothing in the world that I like better to hear than these old basso-profundos at night. I am going to get some tenor frogs from the cañons and believe I will have Amate teach them all parts so we can have an octet….
The usual kaleidoscope in town…trips to architects, and picture framers, and bookshops.
CHARLES LUMMIS
1912
I have an Ayrdale pup, who looks as much like Bernard Shaw as it is possible for a dog.
ROBINSON JEFFERS, to Una Kuster
1926
AMBASSADOR HOTEL
This place is a genuine horror. If I described it literally I’d be set down as the damnedest liar ever heard of. Architecturally it is inconceivable, and the people all seem to be imbeciles. The movie folk, by comparison, are enlightened and civilized.
H. L. MENCKEN, to his wife
1934
I went back on the booze pretty heavily until Saturday night—neglecting studio, dignity, and so on. And was I sick Sunday and today! This morning I showed up at M.G.M. for the first time since last Tuesday and squared myself, but didn’t get much work done, since the publicity department took up most of my time, what with photographs, interviews and the like.
I’m still surprised at the fuss the Thin Man made out here. People bring the Joan Crawfords and Gables over to meet me instead of the usual vice versa! Hot-cha!
…I love you something awful and days are years till I see you again! And I’m not five feet nine and I’m not going to be an actor and don’t pay any attention to the publicity the studio is sending out on me: I gave ’em a free hand and they’ve gone pretty nutty.
I suppose you’ll see the Johnsons on their Eastern jaunt—they said they were going to look you up. I love you and miss you and love you and miss you and not much else.
DASHIELL HAMMETT, to Lillian Hellman
1940
SLEEPING LATE STOP STUFF ON DINING ROOM TABLE HOORAY FOR ROOSEVELT AFFECTION SCOTT
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD, to his amanuensis
NOVEMBER 6
1946
Helen telephoned to say that there was quite a crowd of strikers outside Paramount and that they’d shouted insults at her and she’d already telephoned Billy, who said he couldn’t bear to look at my face today anyway.
CHARLES BRACKETT
2002
So the landlord came by last week and suddenly realized that the secure building we’re all paying to live in isn’t necessarily a traditionally “secure” building. In fact, the secure building we’re all paying to live in happens to be the same secure building several homeless people are using as a home base of sorts, stashing mismatched Reebok tennis shoes, foam pads and over-sized panties in the corners of the secure roof space.
Why she suddenly realized just now that this secure building isn’t really a secure building is gobstopping, because I know of at least four tenants who have complained to her specifically that the secure building we’re all paying to live in lacks a certain sense of, I don’t know, security.
HEATHER B. ARMSTRONG
NOVEMBER 7
1849
Seeing a few ducks alight at a little lake, almost like a running stream, I went after them, and found some hundreds of gadwalls, and bald-pates, and in half an hour had sufficient for all our company, which I need not tell you we enjoyed, though not cooked at Baltimore “à la Canvasback.”
Hundreds of California marmots are seen daily, at a distance looking like a common squirrel, so much so that the men all call them squirrels; their color varies very much, being every shade of grey and reddish brown.
As we stood looking at all this, from a hill higher than the one on which we were, swooped a California vulture, coming towards us until, at about fifty yards, having satisfied his curiosity, though not mine, he rose in majestic circles high above us, and with a sudden dash took a straight line, somewhat inclining downwards, towards the mountains across the valley and was lost to sight.
JOHN W. AUDUBON
1919
Her interest in all things seductive. Licks my P & A—cant let my Roger alone. Always getting it out & feeling it. Comes off with me now very quickly. Didn’t at first. We dress. I start keeping these notes.
THEODORE DREISER
NOVEMBER 8
1937
Since mid-September we have been in California—very agreeable and amusing and fantastic and inter
esting. The place of virtualities, where absolutely anything might happen. Meanwhile almost everything is happening—movies, astronomy, sweated labour in the fields, philanthropy, scholarship, phony religions, real religions, all stirred together in a vast chaos in the midst of the most astonishing scenery, ranging from giant sequoias and rock peaks to date palms and red hot deserts.
ALDOUS HUXLEY
1950
I went to one of the film lots, and while there I paid a visit to the studio where Humphrey Bogart and Fredric March were rehearsing. As we stood there, one of the big light bulbs burst. No one was badly hurt. Mr. Bogart had a slight scratch on his forehead from which blood trickled down. But I saw no other casualty and was not even startled by the explosion which, though a little louder than that from an ordinary bulb, was not very unusual.
Little did I realize that the newspapers would seize on this mild excitement to give us some very hectic hours answering the telephone because of the reports that there had been some real danger present. This was all nonsense, but just showed me again how easy it is to create an excitement out of nothing.
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
NOVEMBER 9
1849
We have passed many fine old Missions, at least six or seven, but though in the midst of beautiful land, with hundreds of horses and cattle, and many herds of sheep and goats, the indolence of the people has left all decaying, and they live in dirt and ignorance, and merely vegetate away this life in listlessness, except for the occasional excitement of a trade in horses, or a game of monte. We have had many melons, late in the season as we are; they are pulled and put up as the French do pears, and keep fresh for many weeks.
All the people here ride well, and fast, many without saddles; these latter tie a rope, or if they have it, a surcingle, buckle that around the body of the horse, and stick both knees under it, so that it is a great assistance to them. The gallop is the usual gait at which they travel. The continual absence of wood gives an appearance to all the hills, of old fields, but many of the valleys are truly beautiful; fine sycamores, oaks and cottonwoods along the water making everything look refreshing to a degree that none can realize but those who have been for weeks exposed to sun and rain, keen winds and cold nights, without woods for shelter or fire; in cooking we have often had to keep up a fire with weeds, some men attending to this, while the others fried our meat, made coffee, and what we called bread.
Los Angeles. This “city of the angels” is anything else, unless the angels are fallen ones. An antiquated, dilapidated air pervades all, but Americans are pouring in, and in a few years will make a beautiful place of it. It is well watered by a pretty little river, led off in irrigating ditches like those at San Antonio de Bexar. The whole town is surrounded to the south with very luxuriant vines, and the grapes are quite delightful; we parted from them with great regret, as fruit is such a luxury to us. Many of the men took bushels, and only paid small sums for them.
The hills to the north command the whole town, and will be the place for the garrison.
San Pedro, twenty-seven miles south-west, is the port, and is said to have a good harbor. All the country round is rolling, and in many places almost mountainous. Before you get to the Coast Range the soil is most of it very good, and the cattle are fine; wild mustard grows everywhere, to the height of five feet or more; in the richest soil attaining seven and eight feet, and we have twice cooked our meal with no fuel but the stalks of this weed.
JOHN W. AUDUBON
1927
Well, I have my Ticket and Destination—but not Train-time as yet….town at 2:25 and up to Dr. Tholen. He had received his analysis from the Clinical Laboratory with the verdict “malignant.”…He is a real nice man and a good workman, and I came away with much respect for him, and in entire resignation, as I always have for anything that can’t be helped….Came down to 6th and Spring, and trotted around four blocks to get some sweetpeas for my home folks.
CHARLES LUMMIS
1991
Tom Waits stepped out from one of the chambers in his costume. His hair had been shaved up the back in odd little ridges. The front, left long, was sprayed gray and stuck out from his head. His teeth had been stained black and brown and he wore filthy long underwear and a torn, dirty Victorian coat. He had pointed period shoes, unbuttoned, flapping open on his dirty bare feet. Each of his hands was covered with a bizarre cagelike glove made of dark stained leather around his wrist and then thin bent metal rods over his fingers with leather caps at the tips. He held a battered tin plate with his asylum food, a moldy crust of bread covered with a squirming mass of maggots, strange orange worms, dead flies, a large potato bug and a selection of beetles. Tom was gently pushing them around the plate saying, “Hey, you, move over.”
The bug wrangler was standing nearby. He had several additional tins of maggots and beetles. He occasionally prodded the contents of Tom’s plate to make sure they were all moving. He had an assistant with several boxes of candy beetles that were added to the plate so that when Tom picked up something to eat in a scene he could select the candy. Tom was having difficulty picking up anything with his caged fingers. Eiko and the propman were called in. They tried putting honey on Tom’s leather fingertips so the candy insects would stick. It didn’t work. They tried double-faced sticky tape and then spray adhesive. Tom was very patient as he tried hard to pick up worms from the wriggling mass. Finally the shot setup was complete and they had to shoot. They decided to frame over Tom’s shoulder and let the second unit get shots of him actually eating from the plate.
ELEANOR COPPOLA
NOVEMBER 10
1869
Take it altogether, it is a unique old town, full of oddities and whimsicalities. Half the population is Mexican, the other half American, English, Scotch, Irish, German, and the Lord knows what; yet there is a goodly number of intelligent, refined and accomplished people, who reside here and give tone to society….It contains a population, they say, of about twenty thousand….If not the first, it is the second edition of the true Garden of Eden….
We remained nearly a week at the ranch, known as the San Joaquin….The ranch is amply watered by springs, and a chain of small lagoons, extending through it, centrally, supposed to be a subterranean river, from the connection there is in the hidden currents that pass from one lagoon to another….
These lagoons terminate in a small bay, which extends from the ocean into the ranch about two miles. On the shore of this bay I saw a camp of Mexican fishermen, who were engaged in manufacturing oil from the carcasses of sharks, which they catch in abundance along the sea coast. They go out to sea in small boats, and catch the sharks by harpooning or shooting them, as they rise to the surface in their eagerness to swallow the bait flung to them. When caught, they are towed into the bay, and so great is the number of their skeletons lying about the camp, that the atmosphere, throughout the entire vicinity for miles, is rendered impure and even offensive. Nothing of this kind, I believe, can offend the olfactories of a Mexican.
The largest cheese ever made in the world, was made on one of these dairy ranches. It was made during the late war, and weighed four thousand pounds. It was sold in San Francisco at fifty cents a pound, for the benefit of the “Sanitary Fund.” The butter, as well as the cheese, is manufactured by steam power. In this business, fortunes may be made or lost in a single year. Little things cannot be done in California; it must be great things or nothing.
HARVEY RICE
1939
The desert sun shines bright in Los Angeles early in the morning so that people cannot sleep on. Therefore, the Babbitts bound brightly from their beds in a mood to beam upon their fellowmen, and in this spirit gather once a week to breakfast jovially on ham and eggs….
Mr. Willis Allen, a real estate salesman and go-getter who had been a cheer leader in college, now promised the poor $30 every Thursday….
W
ESTBROOK PEGLER
1954
I attended the Episcopal Church of the Advent. It is a sweet little church which had almost faded out of existence but has been brought back by the determined efforts of the new young rector, Rev. Dr. Pratt. He now has 800 parishioners enrolled where there were only five at the time he took it over.
They have a nice custom here. At the end of the service everyone goes into the parish house and coffee and doughnuts are on hand. Strangers are welcomed and this gives them a chance to meet people which, in a city where 5,500 new people come in every week, must be very helpful.
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
NOVEMBER 11
1919
Armistice Day. Holiday commemorating the armistice with the Germans—Nov. 11—1919. I was with Bo last year & walked down through Central Park—watching the wild joy of the people. Today baby & I wake in our room at 338 Alvarado. Every day sunshine here. I had a dream last night that I got off the train & that it started without me but I ran after it & with difficulty made it. Helen & I indulge in a delightful round, as usual. She has the most teasing methods. Talks all the time & tortures me into an orgasm by her sweet brutalities & descriptions. Up at 9:30 & go to the little restaurant in 7th St near Alvarado….
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