We're crazy but not that crazy

I got this email through the blog this weekend:

Hi there,

My cousin introduced me to your blog because I live in the Alexandria as well, and I was just curious how a family of three is able to manage in that building. I could be wrong, but I had thought the biggest units were one bedroom, and that the income stipulations were pretty strict so that only low income people could qualify. I'm not accusing you of being a fraud or anything, like I said I'm just curious.

Nice blog, btw.

Your neighbor,
Ian

Just to clarify: we *PARK* under the Alexandria, we don't live there. We love downtown but we're not insane enough to raise a child in a residential hotel, even one that has a fancy schmancy restaurant in the lobby.

ETA: The post that inspired the blog name.

Art Walk, Old Skool.

Art!

You kids are probably too young to remember, but once upon a time images were captured not with electrons and silicon, but with "film", a gooey mixture of chemicals slathered on a strip of (probably flammable) plastic or paper or whatever happened to be at hand. And there was none of this "instant gratification" you youngsters talk about. With film, you didn't get to see your photos until you took the film home and soaked it in poisonous chemicals in your bathtub. Yuck. "How could this be possible" you ask? Well, luckily for you, I discovered a working example of one of these ancient devices during an archaeological dig in the ruins of a garage in Burbank, California, and I brought it with me to Art Walk. What follows was recorded using that quaint and now-so-obsolete technology.


To say that Art Walk was "crowded" is an understatement. Wall to wall people made it hard to walk on the sidewalk (but there were plenty of cops to keep you from stepping on to the street.)

There was art, as you would expect. But it seems the more popular Art Walk gets, and the more people there are, the less art I see. This isn't a cut an Art Walk, mind you. This is me people watching rather than art gazing. As I live in the 'hood, Art Walk has become an adventure in finding art I would like to return to and enjoy later while enjoying the party in the right-now.

Art, meet commerce.

I have no idea what was going on here.

The newly-expanded Art Parking Lot, featuring extra fuse-popping lights.

Bars and bands were hoppin'.

A new bar "Down and Out" at the site of the old "Charlie O's" soft-opened for Art Walk. The place has sliding glass doors that give the effect of the party spilling out into the street. Note the portraits inside above the bar. Not seen in this shot: O.J. Simpson.

But mostly just people, people, people...

These old-fashioned cameras don't focus themselves, they rely on you to do it for them. You get to twist a knob whilst peering through the viewfinder until you stop seeing double, which is impossible to do when it is dark, and you are drunk.

Commies!

You kids with your new-fangled electric cameras... (The police car is responding to a "415", which seems to be the police code for "a guy holding a bag of ice to his face.")

On the way back to the loft, I was hit by frozen tater-tots thrown from one of these windows. The bastards ducked back inside when I turned and pointed the camera at them... There is nothing subtle about these antiques. Getting a candid shot takes skillz with a "Z".

A Crime Under the Alexandria!

"A Terrible Theft"

Scene of the Crime

A terrible theft has inconvenienced the residents of the Alexandria, as well as the clientele of the Parking garage therein.

Yes, that's right, someone stole the pushbuttons to the elevators on the garage level. An employee of the Alexandria (who shall not be identified as he is not authorized to speak on this subject, but rather to park cars) said "It's crazy!"

See? This is why we can't have nice things.

Back Under the Alexandria

The garage under the Alexandria Hotel is now going to be staffed by valets 24-7. That means that no one has to relive the experience I had when I first began parking in the Alexandria last year.

Anyway, I said good-morning and asked the guards to open the gate to the garage. They were nice and polite, as always, but they're not valets and they won't actually get the car for you. I walked onto a waiting elevator and punched the button for the basement. The doors slid open onto a narrow hallway with dirty tile floors and holes punched into the plaster walls. I walked through and into the garage, praying that my car was parked on the first basement level. The first level is pretty dark and pretty dank, but getting my car out of the first level is a straightforward job--just pull out and drive it up the ramp.

But of course, my car wasn't parked on the first level.

Oh shit, the elevator.

Not the elevator I'd just gotten out of. This was a car elevator, painted red, all metal with no door. To run it you have to hold two buttons at the same time. When you do the elevator lurches, then slowly and loudly slides down to the second basement level.

The second basement level makes the first look like paradise. It's dark, there are puddles and chunks of plaster in piles on the floor and I'm the only person down there--well, me and the guy who is hidden under a car, waiting to kill me (har har).

I found my car and backed it into the elevator--and since the elevator is narrow and I drive a 1985 Mercedes Benz with a body that's 17 feet long, this took me a few minutes. Then I pressed the two buttons again and made sure I didn't overshoot the floor, and then I pulled out of the elevator, up the ramp, paused a moment to let a man pushing a shopping cart go past, waved to the guard and finally pulled out onto Spring Street.

Since I usually have my kid with me when I park, I decided that parking at the Alexandria was a little too edgy for me and after a couple of months I moved my car to the lot at 6th and Main. But with the Alexandria offering valet parking for $130/mo, guess what? We're back, baby. The name of the blog makes sense again!

That singing guy!

That Singing Guy we spoke of two weeks ago? Well, as he can no longer sing on the roof (or where ever he was that echoed into our loft) during the day, he's taken to singing on the corner of Fifth and Spring:

(Please excuse the shakeycam, my camera is really too light for video work.)

Impressive set of pipes on that guy, he is loud! He sang for about ten minutes longer, then when he was done, he got in his mobility scooter and drove back into The Alexandria.

On Top of the Alexandria

For the past few weeks, a man has been standing on the roof of the Alexandria after dark and singing loudly enough for us to hear him. It sounds like his voice is going through an old megaphone, sort of a Rudy Vallee kind of sound. It's pretty cool, almost like we're being sung to sleep.

MySpace? Really?

The Alexandria has a MySpace page. Here's a sample of the About Me:

Live In A Legend*************** ***************Designed by famed architect John Parkinson, whose creative power produced such notable projects as Union Station, Los Angeles City Hall, and The Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, The Alexandria exudes confidence that not only comes with brilliant design but with a charm and personality all her own. ***************Hollywood fell in love with The Alexandria from the start. Legends from Charlie Chaplin, Mae West, and Humphrey Bogart to Rudolph Valentino, Clark Gable and Greta Garbo called her home. Three U.S. Presidents and foreign dignitaries followed suit making The Alexandria one of the most famous buildings in the city. ***************Now, you have the opportunity to live in the same residences as these legendary celebrities and make a history all your own. Currently in renovation, the new Alexandria will offer a charming, affordable and secure environment in the heart of the evolving downtown Los Angeles community. This is an opportunity to get in on the ground floor of the new urbanism movement and a growing, citywide revitalization effort. +++++A Facelift for our Beauty+++++ ***************The Alexandria is receiving a $14 million renovation including manicured common areas with fashionable furnishings for your enjoyment and entertaining, and our popular ‘micro-lofts’ will feature all new appliances, floor coverings, ceiling fans and light fixtures. Additional plans include a fitness center, business center, lobby diner, black box room for resident performances & exhibitions, and storage lockers for your convenience. Construction begins in the fall of 2006 and is scheduled for completion in the spring of 2009. ***************All new residents must meet affordable income guidelines but will benefit from rents starting in the $450 per month range including utilities.

Hm, no mention of the crack dealers hanging out by the front door. An oversight, I'm sure.

Back Under the Alexandria

The garage on 6th and Main raised their monthly rates to $175. To which I say, oh hell no. So after this month I'm back to parking...Under the Alexandra. Max the manager promises that he won't ever park my car in the sub-basement and says I can call the guards to open the gate for me so that I don't have to leave Kidlo in the car in order to get into the garage on weekends. So my blog name makes sense again and we won't have to go into debt just to pay for parking.

Alexandria landlord slapped by judge

From the LA Times:

A federal judge has found that the city of Los Angeles allowed more than 100 poor and disabled people to be improperly evicted from a downtown residential hotel slated for redevelopment.

Judge Margaret M. Morrow issued a preliminary injunction last week ordering the city's Community Redevelopment Agency to locate dozens of the now potentially homeless people and pay them relocation funds.

She also ordered the owner of the Alexandria to make the building habitable for the remaining 100-plus tenants, many of whom are elderly and disabled.

The ruling is the latest turn in a long-running battle over redevelopment downtown. It marks a victory for the homeless and their advocates, whose claims that hotel owners were treating them badly fell on deaf ears in city government for months.

...

The Alexandria, a stately building at 5th and Spring streets, was built 102 years ago as a luxury hotel. Its architect, John Parkinson, also designed such notable buildings as Los Angeles City Hall, Union Station and the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum.

For a time, the hotel, with its Tiffany skylight, was the most glamorous in all Los Angeles. But by the 1980s, as downtown fell on hard times, the beaux-arts revival landmark had become a weekly rate residential hotel, serving as housing of last resort for hundreds of disabled people.

In 2006, as gentrification was sweeping through downtown and lofts began to transform old buildings, developer Ruben Islas and partners purchased the building and began renovating it.

Islas, who specializes in low-income and senior housing, pledged to keep the building as affordable housing and received funds from the CRA and the federal government to help pay for the rehab.

Soon, however, many long-time tenants of the building, organized by homeless advocacy groups such as the Community Action Network, began accusing developers of waging an illegal campaign to get them out and replace them with wealthier clientele.

They claimed that the water and elevators were shut off for days at a time, destroying their quality of life and leaving the disabled among them stranded upstairs without potable water or flushing toilets.

The Los Angeles City Council and the CRA board declined to step in, despite the parade of residents in wheelchairs urging them to do something.

Islas denied the charges and accused his critics of sabotaging work at the Alexandria by turning off the water and disrupting service on an elevator.

Last fall, residents filed a lawsuit charging that Islas and his partners "systematically and intentionally worked to remove the long-term tenants of the Alexandria and replace them with non-elderly, non-disabled and non-African American tenants."

The lawsuit, which seeks damages, is set for trial next year.

If you look at the Alexandria's website, it definitely seems as if they are trying to get lofties into the building (check out this photo, which, trust me, does not resemble anyone who currently lives in the hotel).

This situation truly sucks because there are so many buildings in this area that can be developed without displacing people (the building I live in, and most of the buildings in the area, were vacant before they were developed into lofts). One of the things I love about downtown (despite my over-reaction to the Hayward shooting) is that it is economically diverse in a way that you see a lot in New York but don't see much in LA. The SRO residents were here first, and if they lose their housing, they have no place to go but the street. Plus there are plenty of empty buildings/lots that can be developed, so why push out people who really need their homes?

Parking sucks downtown

After naming this blog Under the Alexandria, it looks like I won't be parking there anymore. I got home from a party at 6 p.m. with the baby in the car and my husband away for the evening, and the fucking gate was locked. The only way to get into the lot would've been to drive to 5th Street, unhook the baby from the car seat, walk into the Alexandria's lobby to ask the guards to unlock the gate, then hook the baby back into the car seat and drive around the block to get back to the gate. Fuck that. I drove to the lot on 6th and Main and parked there. It's $50 more a month to park there, but it has 24 hour access without having to jump through all these fucking hoops. We're going to keep the spot in the old garage for the woman who takes care of my son since she's never driving with the kid at a time when the gate is locked. But for me, we get to pay an extra $600 a year. Fuuuuuuck.

I will not, however, be changing the name of this blog. "In the Big Parking Lot on 6th and Main" doesn't have the same ring to it.

Sunday on Spring Street

I had to run errands in my car on Sunday, which meant I had to get it out from the garage under the Alexandria Hotel. Six days out of the week the garage entrance on Spring is open, so I just walk down the ramp, say hello to Max and wait for him to get my car. But Sundays are a different story. None of the valets work on Sunday and the gate on Spring is locked. So.

I walked down to 5th Street and the first thing I noticed was groups of men standing around, shoulders huddled together, exchanging money. This is not something I see happening during the week, so I'm not sure why Spring turns into a drug supermarket early Sunday morning. Even though I was a little freaked, no one hassled me or even looked at me, and I slip into the lobby of the Alexandria Hotel.

As usual, there were two guards at the desk and as usual they were very young and did a good job of filling out their uniforms. Last week, I saw a hipster girlie flirting with the guards and doing pretty well with them until she said, "So, open the garage door for me, yo." To quote my friend Damagazelle, "My eyes rolled so far back into my head that they dislodged and slid to the end of my coccyx."

Anyway, I said good-morning and asked the guards to open the gate to the garage. They were nice and polite, as always, but they're not valets and they won't actually get the car for you. I walked onto a waiting elevator and punched the button for the basement. The doors slid open onto a narrow hallway with dirty tile floors and holes punched into the plaster walls. I walked through and into the garage, praying that my car was parked on the first basement level. The first level is pretty dark and pretty dank, but getting my car out of the first level is a straightforward job--just pull out and drive it up the ramp.

But of course, my car wasn't parked on the first level.

Oh shit, the elevator.

Not the elevator I'd just gotten out of. This was a car elevator, painted red, all metal with no door. To run it you have to hold two buttons at the same time. When you do the elevator lurches, then slowly and loudly slides down to the second basement level.

The second basement level makes the first look like paradise. It's dark, there are puddles and chunks of plaster in piles on the floor and I'm the only person down there--well, me and the guy who is hidden under a car, waiting to kill me (har har).

I found my car and backed it into the elevator--and since the elevator is narrow and I drive a 1985 Mercedes Benz with a body that's 17 feet long, this took me a few minutes. Then I pressed the two buttons again and made sure I didn't overshoot the floor, and then I pulled out of the elevator, up the ramp, paused a moment to let a man pushing a shopping cart go past, waved to the guard and finally pulled out onto Spring Street.