#2160: Monday, October 1: Bucolic LA

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Post 2160
- 7 years and 273 days since I started this blog -

  

On a tractor at the Gentle Barn

Journal
(written 10/2/18)

I'm trying something new. I'll be linking this post to its associated photo album on Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: 8-1/2 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical crisis and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

Sunday was for visiting the Gentle Barn. This is a place where abused animals (mostly farm animals) are rehabilitated, and where human animals can come for some healing, as well. It turns out, if you spend time around animals and your intentions are benevolent, you feel better for it. For a city boy like me, interaction with any non-pet is a very rare thing, and I was very curious to see how I would respond.

The Gentle Barn, besides the good work they do as an animal rescue group, also does good work as environmental protector. They work with disadvantaged, at-risk children from LA as well. Good stuff. Your contribution, when you visit, gets you a lecture on the why and how of the place, and admission to a humane petting zoo, where every animal has a caretaker who can give you information on that animal's story, and guidance on how to interact with it to further its rehabilitation and maximize your enjoyment.

It is not intuitive to me that hugging a cow re-tunes your emotions, but I'm here to tell you, it does. Animals that are skittish and move away at your approach (a goat, a turkey; do not pursue!), remind you that these interactions are two-way, and that they are mutually beneficial or they don't, and shouldn't, happen.

I brushed, fed and petted cows, sheep, goats, horses, a hog, turkey and chicken. I left feeling better than I did when I arrived, and even more relaxed. A beautiful day, a good-vibes environment, the company of happy strangers and loved companions, and a buried-deep-in-my-psyche place that appreciates livestock, and what other result could there be?

At the Gentle Barn, feeling like I got the better deal, feeding this beautiful horse and getting some love in return.

I wore my ironic shirt ("Farmboy"), and nobody gave it (or me, really) a second look. Yes, I'm good with that.

We then drove from the LA exurbs to the downtown Warehouse District for Smorgasburg, an every-Sunday (almost) destination where LA's famous food trucks gather to form a very high-end outdoor food court. Wow! Mind-boggling offerings, almost nothing standard on offer - you would never have a better opportunity to expand your food vocabulary. I went with dishes that took familiar ingredients and presented them in ways new to me.

Visiting Smorgasburg, a gathering of food trucks in the Warehouse District

A totally awesome experience, and one I wanted to repeat, but it will not be: Next Sunday, no Smorgasburg. You can't always get what you want.

The airBnB has a gas leak in a permanently-installed barbecue, and the gas is shut off. There is no hot water. I'm going to be a little stinky the next couple of days.

A Monday with Alex at work and no plans gives me the opportunity to eat Indian food, a treat for me, as it is one of those things I love and rarely get to do these days because it is not on my regular eating plan, or favored by my friends in Syracuse (and I don't dine out much at home, either). I think of indulgences like this as self-care. L'Oreal, baby: I'm worth it!

I spend some time during the day getting the meetup details settled with my LA friends. I have some friends living out here I've known since my public school days in Queens, more than fifty-five years of friendship. One is not doing so well, and has not answered my daily calls, but the others are doing fine, and I'll get to see them in the next few days.

One of those calls is to my friend Jim, a Syracuse musician and songwriter who moved out here fifteen or so years ago. I met Jim at Mac's Bad Art Bar (RIP) four or five years ago, and I have visited a few times since. While I'm getting the details down, Jim hips me to the fact that our mutual friend, and my frequent rhythm-section partner on drums, Bob, is also out here. This is great, because, in general, I don't get to do much music stuff out here - my son is in the movie scene, not the music scene - but music is the reason Bob comes to LA.

Settling things with Jim, I give Bob a call, and we quickly arrange to hang tonight, at one of LA's most famous jazz clubs, The Baked Potato.

This is my first time at this famous club, where many live jazz albums have been recorded. Bob has played with the guitarist band leader. Seems like a great time to go.

Back in New York City in the 70s, going to hear jazz in clubs was a pretty regular entertainment, and the Baked Potato reminds me of those days. The scene is very similar It is also pretty similar to the North Gate Jazz Society in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

So I am immediately comfortable. The band is cooking, playing some jazz fusion. The rhythm section is great. I reflect for a second how self-congratulatory it is for me to see parallels in my playing to the bass man. The company is good, I spend my two-drink minimum on Jameson's. Despite being really full, Windie forces me to taste her massive baked potato (literally shoving forkfuls into my mouth), and it is good.

Everything's fine, the world spins, I am grateful.

Food Comment

No food pics (you're welcome), but some great food along the way. At Smorgasburg, I had a wonderful chopped pork and fried egg bao from Spoon and Pork. I had a taste of pork belly sushi-style from there as well (not really any kind of sushi, of course, the pork is cooked with a blow-torch) - wow! Great, and like nothing I've ever tasted. I also had, an incredibly good scallop po' boy from Anarchy Seafood. The roll deviated from the norm (some kind of slightly orange-ish brioche, instead of the typical hero-like roll of the New Orleans original (which I prefer), but the inner ingredients, perfectly cooked scallops, cucumbers, salad, aioli sauce, are superb. Finished off my visit with a 'Coffee In Your Pocket' bar (a "cup of coffee" and crushed beans in dark chocolate). Totally fantastic.

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