An encampment outside of Union Swap Meet on Santa Monica boulevard in East Hollywood, Los Angeles

Pandemic in Los Angeles: Day 49

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At the middle of the week, I am staring well and long at days into the future. For a moment I see myself as a sentient being on earth here temporarily before I sojourn towards other celestial bodies. At another moment, I think I’m more like a machine, in need of a tune up before my parts tumble beneath my head like a sack of potatoes.

But I am only as ambitious as those who came before me. I am only filled with as much wonder as the minds of those who wandered before mine.

I look at the streets of my vicinity for a moment, however, and I’m drawn back to reality. I can still remember the first college essay I turned in when I was only a fresh-faced seventeen year old at Pasadena City College. Believe it or not, I wrote about walking through Los Angeles. I wrote about travailing past encampments along Vermont and Prospect avenues before boarding the Metro 181 bus to Pasadena, which took over an hour. And I wrote about the endless disconnection with the great wealth of my city, which seemed mostly to go to waste. I also wrote about the fountain spring of my mother’s strength, and how her cuento helped bridge my way forward past any impediment over the concrete. Professor Kennedy let me know that he enjoyed the essay, and I felt more than affirmed. I felt at home.

I’m not sure if a person is supposed to “know” their destiny, but I do know that they’re supposed to believe in it. I also believe that as any first great hit can be a young rap artist’s last, it’s also true that any one of these brief meditations can be my final consolidation with the world.

That said, I’m happy to note that I’m finally putting together the final touches for Episode 16 of J.T. The L.A. Storyteller Podcast this evening, which, if the laws of rewards for great efforts continue in service as they usually do, should mean for readers and listeners that the episode will be available sometime tomorrow. I will feature it here on the site, as well as on Apple, Spotify, & Google Play.

“Know your worth.” Another saying that comes to mind. I don’t know if I fully yet grasp the worth of J.T: The L.A. Storyteller Podcast, but I can definitely tell you how much I believe it’s worth. Yet that’s a cuento for another time.

Today also marks one full month with the new Quien Es Tu Vecindario web-page for families, workers, the disabled, and more in East Hollywood. The site now has over 24 “bulletins” for the community with links to nearby resources and other extensions of support. Tomorrow’s post is the 25th.

Tell your friends, Los Angeles. JIMBO TIMES is neither a bus nor a train nor even a spaceship. It’s a planetary wavelength of over 3.5 billion years’ worth of music, ricocheting marvelously through every end of the galaxy, as far as time and space will allow us to go.

J.T.

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Pandemic in Los Angeles: Day 47

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This upcoming Sunday will mark Mother’s Day 2020. I’m taking mom out for some chile relleno, even if it still has to be takeout. Earlier today, I was stopped in my tracks when I heard LAUSD Superintendent Austin Beutner recognizing his own mother as the catalyst for his life in education during his weekly address for parents and families in L.A.:

The most important teacher in my life was my mom. She helped thousands of public school kids learn to read, including me. The love of reading she taught me led to a love of learning, which is with me today, as I try to better understand the world around me. Thank you, Mom.”

Austin Beutner

Let’s leave it simply at that for today, Los Angeles.

J.T.

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Pandemic in Los Angeles: Day 45

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Today marks the 45th day since Governor Newsom’s stay-at-home orders took effect on March 19th, 2020.

And for a second week in a row, protests greeted the steps of the Capitol in Sacramento, as well as in Los Angeles, as more people expressed their vexation with the ordinances, a lack of services, and burgeoning joblessness.

In the seven weeks since March 19th, 2020, over 3.7 million people in California have filed for unemployment claims, according to the LA Daily News.

But a lack of work and the call to continue socially distancing notwithstanding, it looked like a typical Sunny weekend driving past Echo Park this afternoon, with scores of people over the grass surrounding the famous Lake.

At least in Metropolitan L.A., even if the beaches are closed, city-goers have green pastures to enjoy. The fact of the matter is that as spring sunshine looms larger over L.A.’s dry interior, it will only become more difficult to keep the state’s 40 million people indoors. Californians pay taxes, after all, not to mention rent and mortgages, to be able to enjoy the outdoors here.

In L.A., 55% of the city’s residents are renters.

In all likelihood, then, in effort to fend off more unrest from the citizenry, then, Governor Newsom, along with mayor Garcetti should announce significant changes to the ordinances soon.

Since March 19th, Los Angeles’s 10 million residents have counted over 24,000 cases of the coronavirus across its population, though that number, as before, is an under-count due to lack of testing.

By contrast, halfway across the world, in Vietnam, with over 95 million people between its jurisdiction, the country has counted just 270 cases of COVID-19 since the outbreak, and zero deaths to show for it.

That statistic is one that should make every Californian–and indeed every American–pause to ask the following: As the richest economy on the planet, if not the health and future of its work-force, just what is our government invested in? And what’s it waiting for?

J.T.

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Pandemic in Los Angeles: Day 44

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It’s breathtaking to think that 44 days have whisked past Los Angeles since I first embarked on this writing series. The fact of the matter is that writing daily for a community is something I first envisioned doing many years ago, after I signed up for the New York Times’s newsletter featuring David Leonhardt’s daily musings about the news and American life.

I can also remember when I first mentioned this to someone, a stranger who I’d met at an end-of-the-year gala in none other than downtown Los Angeles. I was there to photograph for the evening, but before starting work, was offered a light meal to help me course through the night’s duty.

At the table when I sat down, I happened to come across the event’s very own local hostess, who would also sit down to an early dinner before overseeing the evening’s schedule. Over the clanks of forks and plates with chicken on each end, I can remember our brief, but lasting conversation. 

The hostess and I talked about the different ways that we found ourselves at the event, and how each of us was doing something we could enjoy while also supporting the special night, even if there was still maybe just a little more we wanted to do. Our conversation then turned to the question of just what that something more was.

When the hostess asked me what it was that I wanted to do, apart from what I just enjoyed, I can remember feeling completely at ease, as if I’d simply been waiting for someone to pose precisely that query. I told her that what I’d really like to do was just write and send all of my musings out for the whole world to see, as David Leonhardt got to do for his paper. I wanted to enjoy the same privilege, but on my side of town in sunny Los Angeles.

The hostess heard me graciously, then replied with a smile, saying,

“Something tells me you’re going to do it.”

We then went our separate ways. The hostess went on to make the many guests for the night feel like they were just by home for the evening, while yours truly went on to click that shutter with a thankful smile for each guest who helped me capture a slice of the time. It’s now been almost three years since that night. And this column is the 44th consecutive blog from myself to the world.

But what would you say, Los Angeles, if you were at that table? Would you tell a stranger about dreams for yourself, as if it was just a matter of time?

Something tells me you’ve got to do it.

J.T.

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