hollywood

  • @ Los Angeles

    We just returned from a week in Los Angeles. My super-talented sister-in-law, Wendy Lane Bailey, had flown out to L.A. to perform at the Gardenia.
    We were supposed to arrive in time to watch her sing, but our van's new
    transmission had a different plan. Even though the transmission was
    only a couple of months old, it gave out on our way out of town—big time. Needless to say, we started out on a different adventure than we had planned.

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    I'll just say that we got to know the truck stop really well. And
    after a few hours we made our way to a pizza place near the mechanic’s,
    camping there for most of the evening until we had secured a rental van
    to pile into. Nine hours and $700 later, we were back on the road to
    L.A.

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    Unfortunately, we missed Wendy’s performance. A serious bummer.
    But, we tried to make up for it once we arrived. We stayed in a
    beautiful hotel in old-town Pasadena, one of my favorite areas.

    Our first stop was to visit old haunts in the Fashion District with
    the kids. When we lived in Hollywood, Elijah was about the same age as
    our little one is now. It was bizarre—and pretty cool—to see him, at
    6-foot-3, push our youngest around in a stroller just like I used to
    push Elijah around the Fashion District in a stroller, years back. What a
    serious time warp.

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    We ate at Pink’s hot dogs for old-time’s-sake, spent a day at The Getty Museum, shopped at the Rose Bowl Flea Market (my favorite!), toured our old neighborhood—which has changed quite a bit, yet is so much the same—had cocoa at The Grove, and received a driving tour of historic Venice, CA from Wendy’s friend, Jessie, who has lived in Venice for the last 40 years.

    I’ve been to Venice many times, but I had no idea that a large part of the city was originally built along canals. Instead of driving to a neighbor’s house, they would canoe. I love it.

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    As for The Getty, I adore it.

    If you can believe this, I never did visit The Getty when we lived
    close-by. We even had a friend who was a curator there at the time, yet I
    still didn't make it. Back then, Isaac once went on a private tour of
    the museum before it opened. Where was I at the time!? Seriously.

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    It was fantastic. I am awed and inspired. And ready to find a
    portrait-painting class to take. Know of a good one? We’re back home
    now, but part of me wants to turn around and head right back to The
    Getty. If you are ever in Southern California, get yourself there. Don’t
    miss it.

    BreathingCover300The
    mechanic repaired the transmission without charge. However, I’m still
    sad that the fiasco cost us our chance to see Wendy’s show. She has two more shows
    coming up in New York City next week. Perhaps I can round up a couple
    of free tickets to give away and send one of you in my stead.

    All photos are from my Instagram feed—hallelujah for functioning phone cameras! We forgot to pack the big camera on this trip—ack.

  • Wormhole

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    I sorted through old pictures today from before we had digital cameras, from before we had Charlotte.  For hours, on my entryway floor, I flipped through picture after picture of Elijah as a small child, then left to pick him up from school.  When he opened the car door to sit next to me, I swear my peripheral vision blurred into quick streaks of bright colors and I fell forward into one of Wheeler’s ‘wormholes.’  When did my son become a young man, all angular and grouchy?  When did my hair grow long?  And have a full ten years really gone by since I invented Trash Ties?   GoGilbertCoverJan2009

    There’s a great article in this month’s Go Gilbert! magazine outlining my personal history with my children’s hat company, Noggins, the invention of my Trash Ties hair accessories, and later finding my passion for art and surface design.  If you’re in the Gilbert, AZ area, pick up a free copy at a nearby salon, office, or restaurant, or click here to browse through the issue online. 

    Interviewing for this article really took me back to the sweetness and the struggle of my life ten years ago.  To the tiny city apartment we shared in Hollywood where Elijah and I spent all of our time together and often did not get outside for days on end. 

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    After living in that apartment for a few months, I began to feel unexplicably uneasy about it and to feel strongly that we needed to move.  I loved living in Hollywood, but there was something wrong that I couldn’t pinpoint.  Drumming up money for a new apartment fell to me and I had meager resources.  Isaac worked till late into the night and took with him our only car.  I had toddler Elijah with me at all times and the internet was pretty useless back then. 

    As time went on, the prompting to get out of that apartment grew steadily stronger.  It was a problem I tried to fix alone, but could not.  It was a difficult, dark time.  One night, after sitting about in a stupor for weeks, I knelt in desperate prayer for help and within half an hour of that prayer, was handed Trash Ties.  It wasn’t a literal handing-over, but spiritually, that’s what it felt like.  Like a gift tied in silk ribbon, with a note saying, “You are loved.  Everything will be okay.”  At 23, that was my first hugely spiritual experience.

    With a little experimentation, Trash Ties were invented in the late evening of January 25th, ten years ago last week.  In the months following, I worked around the clock, squeezing every ounce of hope and will power into patenting Trash Ties and preparing it for market.  It was a raw, tender time, but man am I grateful for the adventures we had back then and for all that we learned!

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    In digging through old photos today and in reading over this new Go Gilbert! article, I realized that I have yet to tell that early story.  The struggles I went through and the help I received along the way are an integral part of my personal journey and I need to keep that history. 

    Yes, Trash Ties enabled us to move from our Hollywood apartment.  It wasn’t till a year after we left that I learned why I had felt so strongly about moving.  It’s a crazy story, involving one horrifically sick little boy.  I’d like to continue telling that story here and there in future posts if you can go easy on me for getting emotional at times.  The reflection does me well.  Some old memories seem like forever ago and some seem like yesterday.  I have learned a lot and I have a lot to be grateful for.