I Heart L.A.

I do love L.A.

I first visited Los Angeles a long long time ago. My sister was a young reporter working for the Herald-Examiner on the police beat and I came out to visit. We went to see Johnny Carson, and the old Getty museum (I was a classical studies major), and since we both were food geeks, we ate our way across the town. (Actually mostly Santa Monica.)

Anyway, today we arrived to air that isn't quite thick enough to use as a doorstop, but it would require a sharp knife to cut off a chunk and take home. On the cab ride to the hotel, I could see the distinctive shape of City Hall in the distance, and in the foreground, a woman on her knees in the slow lane, being handcuffed by a cop, while about six cops stood behind aiming shotguns and service revolvers. (The cops with the guns were all sheltered behind the police cars, the guy wielding the handcuffs and the woman, on the other hand, both just looked tired an annoyed, as they struggled to come to a consensus about whether her right arm would make it back close enough to get the cuff on. She wasn't fighting, exactly, just not cooperating.)

This week we won't get the chance to visit much or eat our way across Alhambra's dumpling houses, but we hope to chow pretty good around downtown. (Tonight, probably Engine Company 28.)