Showing posts with label Parking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parking. Show all posts

Monday, August 31, 2009

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.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Performances (and mopeds) at Art Walk


As time goes on, there seem to be more and more performances at Art Walk. I understand that some people are peeved over this, but I kinda like it. Gives our little neighb the sort of energy I so fondly remember from the East Village in the early seventies. The shot above is from the French fest at the Continental Gallery last night. Besides the bandstand and some nifty $1,800 chairs there was a herd of electric scooters:


Not so arty, but I knew it was just a matter of time before Corporate Sponsorship crept in to this scene. No matter, I have a professional interest in electric vehicles, so I asked around and was directed to Alex, who explained that the mopeds are a purely French design, although he couldn't really tell me much about them, and the company rep had split and wouldn't be back 'till the band played. Oh, well. We posed for the photo op and Alex floated off to continue his meet-n-greet.

One look at the band's set list:
And I decided not to wait. However, the "E-Road" Electric bicycle looks nifty and light, and probably qualifies as a "motorized bicycle" under California V.C 406(b) and 24016(a)(3,4), which means no license or registration or insurance needed (unlike a gas moped), but you have to be at least 16 years old and wear a helmet. No prices were given at the event, but EBay seller "E-Road electric bike" has them for $838 shipped. E-Road/BHM LLC, 3113 S. Grand Ave 90007, 213-746-0250

Speaking of performances, I spotted this at the Regent:


When did this happen? I'm so out of touch. Wait, it hasn't happened even yet, at least, no renovations that I can tell. There was a band on stage, but they weren't performing, just doing a sound check. Unless that is the performance. Which it could be... Every time I'm here during Art Walk, the band is doing sound check. Like I said, I'm out of touch.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

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!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Pwnage at Sixth and Spring


So the attention of the city parking folks has once again returned to Sixth and spring. They take that "No Stopping - Tow Away 3PM-6PM" stuff seriously. Yesterday they took a nice BMW, today it was another Beemer plus a Nissan truck. All this started at 3:28, so... Hmph.

There was another tow rig between spring and Main waiting in front of an SUV. The driver of the SUV got out and started shoving coins in the meter. "Don't, stop, Tow away!" I yelled. "What?" She asked. "Tow away. No parking after three!" I waved my arms. "TOW AWAY! NO PARKING" I gestured at the tow truck. "He's here to tow YOU!" "Oh..." She seemed unsure, thought a minute, consulted with her passengers, then got in and drove off. I walked up to talk to the Tow driver. "Did you hear me? I was telling her 'Don't do it!' He said. "I tell people, 'Don't park it, man, I'll tow you!' And they say "You ain't gonna tell me what to do!" So I go forward a spot, and I wait, and as soon as they walk away, BAM!" He grinned. "Oh, well, I tried!"

Ok, so if people are even ignoring the advice of the guy in the tow truck idling right in front of their car, well, I don't think any amount of signage is going to help.

BTW, if either of these are yours, the number to call is apparently (213) 687-1003.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Spotted outside Good Sam Hospital.


I didn't want to spend the $4.00 to find out, but I am intrigued to know how this works. Does the meter register $1.00 per hour until the magic sum of $4.00 is inserted, at which time it flips to 10 hours? Is the rate really 40¢ per hour? Is this some sort of Parking Dept. mystery math and I should be submitting this photo to Failblog.org?



Wednesday, June 4, 2008

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.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

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.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Why We Moved Downtown (and why everyone else may follow)

The main reason was space. My husband (hereafter known as My Boy, or MB) is a computer consultant who works from home. He also has a lot of hobbies and loves to fix watches, collect and use old cameras, rehab motorcycles--basically, take things that aren't working and get them up and running agin. So he needs room for a workbench and tools. Plus just over a year ago we added a charming redheaded baby to our family and Kidlo needs his own room.

We'd been living in Silverlake and needed to move in a hurry (landlord poisoned our air conditioner--don't feel like getting into the details), but all of the places in our price range were tiny--700 sf or less for a two bedroom. We looked at houses but a) they were expensive and b) we were worried that we'd rent a house and then get kicked out a few months later when the owner defaulted on the mortgage (more on that later). We thought of buying but we didn't have enough of a down payment saved up (the days of no-money-down mortgages are over).

So basically we were screwed. Until MB saw an ad on craigslist for downtown lofts.

I work on the west side of downtown and we'd been going to Art Walk for a few years, plus we love going to Little Tokyo for conveyer belt sushi. So we knew the area and liked it a lot, plus MB and I grew up in New York (me in the Bronx, him on the Upper West Side), so we're city kids at heart. We decided to take a look at new lofts on Spring Street and holy shit, they wuz cheap. Crazy cheap. Like $1600/mo for almost 1,000 sf cheap. We were paying almost $2100 for our shithole in Silverlake, so when we saw those prices we did the Tex Avery eyes-bulging-tie-spinning routine. We would have to pay for parking, but even with that we were looking at saving almost $300 a month.

So we went for it. And here we are.

There have been a few things to adjust to. Having the car a block away is a pain in the ass when you have the baby and groceries and other shit to haul around. And the neighborhood is definitely still on the gritty side (though a helluva lot better than it used to be). Seeing drug dealers on 5th did not make me a happy mama.

The good part is that our loft is unbelievable. Brand new kitchen, two bathrooms with deep tubs and marble floors, dark wood (well, Pergo) floors and huge windows. We even have a patio! We're having a wall put in to section off the baby's room and still have enough left over to fit in MB's work area and a writing desk for me.

Plus the creative vibe in the neighborhood is amazing. Our next door neighbor is a DJ, the Japanese guy across the hall is a dealer in vintage vinyl, a woman on the 5th floor runs a dressmaking business. And it's a real city, so I walk down the street and overhear people's conversations (Today's example: "Women, money and drugs they didn't pay for!"). And Broadway reminds me so much of the Bronx. I love how whole families turn out to shop, Abuela, Mami y Papi, Tia and all the kids. I love how you can see some big tough cholo with baggy jeans and tats cradling his baby cousin in his arms.

Financially, living here is an incredible bargain. It's not just the cheap rent--not driving every day is going to save us a huge amount of money. And here's where I get to the "why everyone else will follow" part...

Because the condo market has collapsed and condo buildings are being converted to rentals, the rents have dropped and are going to keep dropping. It's just flat out cheaper to live here than in Los Feliz, Silverlake and even Echo Park (which is ridiculously overpriced). Cheaper rents = what I'm seeing in my building, which is an influx of young artist types who are no longer priced out of the neighborhood. The more creative people who flood in, the more retail we'll see, the streets will get safer and that in turn will attract even more people.

Also, the price of gas is going to keep going up--China and India want gas too, which means the days of cheap gas are over. Mass transit ridership is booming. Downtown is where all the transit lines for the region converge, so you can live downtown and take the Rapid to Santa Monica...or the red line to the Valley...or the gold line to Pasadena...you get the picture. Or if you're like me and work downtown, you get to walk, get some exercise and completely eliminate your commuting cost.

(As an aside, places like the Inland Empire and Antelope Valley which have long, expensive commutes, high rates of foreclosure and no local employment are fucked).

Of course, there have been artists moving into downtown for more than ten years, but what you're seeing now is the second wave--people weren't willing to deal with hard core skid row or couldn't afford to buy a luxury condo, but are now getting pulled in by the Art Walk vibe and the cost of living.

Downtown has gone over the tipping point, so now it's just a matter of watching the people flood in.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

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.