Koreatown.

I like to travel. That’s why I live in Los Angeles. When I walk the streets, to steal a line from an Audioslave song, "It doesn’t remind me of anything."

I came to LA almost two years ago excited about the adventure of acclimating to a place so vast and complex. I had sold my home of 25 years on Main Street in the Town of Rural, Wisconsin. All my neighbors had bought all but a "carry-on’s" worth of belongings at my final estate sale, the house was sold and there was no turning back. It was an adventure for me. Having mourned the end of my solo father years long enough and taken the advice of elders, I could now, without guilt, start new. I could do anything I wanted and I choose the sun, ocean and vibrant culture of Southern California over the next nearest competitor, West Palm Beach, Florida. Comedy is here. National Voiceover work is here. Everything I’d like to pursue is here.

It was a hard landing. What little money I had lasted about three months as I bounced from hotel to hotel trying to get a fix on the lay of the land and where to settle. I ended up going through a few months of sleeping in my little Nissan Pick-up truck and begging $200 every couple weeks from my father. But I never lost my faith in my ultimate abilities. Took a sales job with Sears and looked for a place.

A lot of people come to LA from everywhere and don’t stay long. Like Gladys Knight sang in Midnight Train To Georgia:

"Ohhhhhh...L.A.
Proved too much for the man
He couldn’t make it - so he's leaving a life he's come to know
Say he's going back to find - what's left of his world
The world he left behind not so long ago.
He's leaving! Leavin!"

I found myself singing that song every time it got tough. Especially the later line where she says:

"But he sure found out the hard way,
Dreeeeeams don't always come true."

Anyway, because there is that penchant for folks who come here to not stay for long, and because there are so many more people than there is capacity to house them, finding a place is very difficult. Studios rent for $1,200 and everybody in the Santa Monica/ Venice areas where I wanted to live wanted multiple months down payment and solid references that I didn’t have. I was a risk. So, even though I was making good money pitching kitchens, I had to look elsewhere for an affordable place that was willing to take me.

Koreatown, or Ktown, as the cool locals call it, answered my call. The one room studio I rented is on the front of the building with a big bowed bay window. That’s what I liked about it. It looks onto a busy sidewalk and gets ample natural light. The rent is $725 per month including utilities. Parking is in a three story structure across the street. The Victorian Apartments is just of Wilshire Boulevard, next to the Archdiocese of Los Angeles Building. It’s back yard is the site of the old Ambassador Hotel (pictured below), notable because about two hundred yards from my room, Robert F. Kennedy was shot just after midnight on June 5th, 1968. The LA school district is building a school complex there now. They have decided to retain the part of the buildings shell that was the spot in the lobby where he was shot, the site of the infamous photo. It’s haunting to realize I live this close to that place. The tall entrance sign also remains for creative reuse.Within three blocks there is just about everything. Wilshire is a full blown city business district lined with high rises. Just south is a series of 30's and 40's tenements that house mostly Hispanic families and young Korean students. On the other side of them is a shopping district that is Mexico. A long string of shops that cater to those of lesser means with street vendors nightly selling out of "Roach Coaches" and off makeshift shopping carts turned grills. The later of which will cook tortillas and hot dogs wrapped in bacon. Others sell yogurt mixes and fruit.

There are many small strip malls nearby that feature mostly Korean fare. For less than $10 you get several plates of very spicy stuff. I’m still working on liking it. Two blocks North there is a block long building that looks like an abandoned warehouse. It has one thin, long, unmarked hallway you can enter from the street. When I did it led me to a sleeper courtyard of upscale restaurants, tea houses and sports bars. A very cool find. Only about half the Korean businesses have English on their menus and signs but that still leaves plenty of choices. The "Crash" movie stereotype of rude and mean Korean store owners is just crap. I find them to be removed, yes, but always cordial and great business managers, very dedicated to keeping people happy, very service oriented.

Due east there are several very upscale high rise apartments. When I go out locally, often the proprietors assume that’s where I live cause I’m white. I don’t bother to correct them.
So the mix of cultures on the street has the Koreans as primary, the Mexican’s next, then black and then us "What are you doing here?" white dudes. Since moving in 6 months ago I have yet to see any thefts, acts of violence or other various and sundry dangers. Not that they don’t happen, it just isn’t that bad an area. Sundays bring out all the Mexican Catholics to the many giant gothic churches on Wilshire. They parade, hand in hand, as families passing by my window. Each morning a man walks by with a load of silvery balloons that he sells at Mac Arthur Park a mile up the road. Every night the Brass Monkey Karaoke bar hosts regulars and newbie celebrants in the cave like, wood walled basement pub kitty corner across the street.

It’s not Rural, Wisconsin. It’s a trip and "it doesn’t remind me of anything."

Free Hugs.