Venice Canal

East Hollywood

Neighborhood Altar

A fifteen minute walk from both the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels and the Walt Disney Concert Hall.

Stage 8

Old Man, Abandoned Building

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Roberto Lopez, Jr. (2005-2009)

It was nothing but rudimentary self-help psychology that had me go to yesterday's memorial for Robert Lopez, Jr. A noontime service was conducted in Spanish, attended by the parents and about fifty neighbors. The parents wore colorful bandannas folded like headbands which I took to be a cultural sign of grief.

There was no anger, just stunned murmurs in response to the prayers. "Santa Maria" was invoked countless times. Absolutely heartbreaking.

A slight case of insomnia had me go back very early this morning.

(Roberto's story, by Esmeralda Bermudez and Andrew Blankstein, is here. Some good photos too.)

Webster Is, I Think, Dying

Webster, who never liked to have a camera pointed at him, is in what has been described as "hibernation mode" since midnight. I took him to the vet yesterday for tests but I don't need to know what they're going to say. The only time he appeared to be in pain was just now when I tried to pet him and talk to him. So I guess we're beyond that point now. He has one of my shirts next to him so he knows he's not alone.

9:25 am - The vet called with the lab results and it's as bad as can be.

Webster's not going to make it.

9:35 am - Fourteen years ago, when the animal rescue people brought Webster to my house he immediately jumped up on the sofa next to me and went into his first of many naps. A Ben Webster ballad was playing so giving him a name was easy. Now, the same cd just came on the stereo. Seems like fourteen minutes ago.

11:10 am - I just found out its a lot easier to write "Webster's Dying" than it is to say it out loud to a neighbor.

1:02 pm - Webster's gone.

Red Rose On White Marble

January

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The J-Weed Needs A Little Color

Mural by Jon Wolff (1986?)