Go for what?

Who doesn't know what 'go for broke' means, even if it's not used every day? There was a time when it was a weird, unknown slang phrase, which is how it became the motto of the 442nd, the Japanese American infantry regiment of WWII that became the most decorated unit of its size in American military history.  These men came from the internment camps and Hawaii, leaving their incarcerated families behind, to fight to defend the rights and privileges that they were being denied. Their heroism is really one of the remarkable stories of the war, and of civil rights history.

I was honored to meet some veterans who were hanging out by the Go for Broke monument in Little Tokyo, L.A. That's my photo with one of them, standing in the half-moon. To make it even better, the photo was taken by a vet who served with the Military Intelligence Services in the Pacific, which is an even more untold story.

When I say 'hanging out,' of course I mean volunteering to educate and raise awareness of the Go for Broke Foundation, which does wonderful oral history work.  They hope to raise the funds to build a facility behind the monument, which would put it within a stone's throw of the Japanese American National Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art's outpost.  It would be a great addition to that area.  Alas, like all other fundraising efforts, they've been hit hard.

Expect the unexpected

When I rebooked all my hotels on the fly last week, I didn't realize that I would have the opportunity to go to see a play at the Geffen Playhouse out by UCLA, a lovely two-stage theater with a beautiful tiny courtyard in front. I was serendipitously walking past at an hour to showtime tonight and ended up postponing dinner to watch The Seafarer, a play that I missed at Steppenwolf, starring John Mahoney (Frasier's dad). Excellent acting, though some of the accents, including Mahoney's, drifted in and out of Irishness. And the play is either slow in itself or the direction was; I couldn't quite decide. A bunch of drunk drifters, one henpecked, one blind, one perenially unfortunate, in north Dublin are... being unhappy, for quite a while, till yet another one brings home an urbane outsider who turns out to be the devil, come to play for Sharky's soul as agreed in a prison card game. Who knew? Hard realism meets wild Miltonesque drama, urban misery meets nihilistic, po-mo misery. It had some real moments, but there was at least one moment when I thought, "Oh lord, get on with it!" So a mixed bag, but I'm glad I got to do it.

Happy accidents

I accidentally found Olvera Street today. I recognized it when I saw it from television, but I hadn't looked it up or planned to see it today. It's a pedestrian street of Mexican restaurants, crafts stalls, souvenir shops, etc. Lots of leatherware. I was most tempted by some of the cute little hard purses with flowers tooled on them, but I'm not six. I did, however, buy some barrelhead cactus candy. Very, very sugary, but I can tell what a cactus tastes like through it, much like eating violet gelato in France.

Not too much going on there today, but I'm sure that there's music in the pavilion on weekends. I am not a churro person, and I was full from Chinatown, about which more another day. But it was quite a lot of fun.

Well, excuse ME

Safely ensconced at the Millennium Biltmore, Los Angeles, where I found a movie shoot going on in one of the banquet rooms. We were politely requested by a sign to stay the hell away. No idea what movie.

At the moment, I'm seated next to the fountain, occasionally glancing up to take in the outrageous barrel-vaulted/coffered/gilded ceiling. It's pretty cool. The historic nature of this hotel was not oversold. However, I already note that downtown L.A. is very odd; just a couple of blocks away from the hotel are some, uh, seedy areas. I happily scarfed down a sandwich from a Mexican bakery and deli there (ah, they're generous with the avocado -- between that and the shoot, I know I'm in California) but decided I had best hie myself back to the hotel as it grows dark.

I was hoping to go to Chinatown for dinner, but my lack of maps and the early closing of the RiteAid left me with no sense of how to get there, and I was afraid I'd pass out from low blood sugar before I figured it out! Tomorrow.

Oh, and man is this area sprawling. The time it took to get to the train station from the airport would have gotten me into downtown Boston.