We Are The Meanderthals.

One of the best things about being retired is that we are on a very relaxed schedule. So we've been meandering through some of our favorite spots in California on our way to see our daughter and her family in Escondido.

Adjusting to slow time.

We visited the Bay Area, spending time with family and friends, eating, drinking, and laughing to the edge of excess (nothing exceeds like excess in my book) and sometimes beyond.

Ophelia the drone commander surveils Napa from treetop level.

We then meandered down highway 99 (an old favorite of ours), stopping in Fresno for a short, but lovely visit with Ophelia's sister Rose and her family.

Next stop, LA.

We have decided to try Airbnb as a way of keeping lodging costs low and also meeting local people wherever we go. Our first experience was a three-day stay with a punk rocker couple in central LA.

They were extremely hospitable (he’s a writer and makes films) and their house was very nice with a small, tranquil backyard.

I may adopt this as my motto:

How punk rock are they? They designed their pool in the shape of the Black Flag logo:

 

For those who may not be up on their punk rock history:

They even made a video of the pool-building process and posted it on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3yylPvsBCs

We strolled through the calm beauty of Descanso Gardens.

Meandering gives you time to watch bees going about their beesness.

And discovered nearly-forgotten bits of LA history like this semi-restored mural, Tropical America, by the great Mexican painter Siquieros just off the tourist-infested Olvera Street.

The mural, made of cement rather than the traditional plaster, was completed on October 9, 1932. The central visual and symbolic focus of the piece is an Indian peon, representing oppression by U.S. imperialism, is crucified on a double cross capped by an American eagle. A Mayan pyramid in the background is overrun by vegetation, while an armed Peruvian peasant and a Mexican campesino (farmer) sit on a wall in the upper right corner, ready to defend themselves.

Needless to say, Siqueiros’ allegorical depiction of the struggle against imperialism wasn’t a comfortable topic for the Downtown L.A. business and political establishment. This was ten years before the infamous Zoot suit riots, and anti-Mexican prejudice was rampant.

A little known fact of American history: over a million people of Mexican descent were deported from the LA area in the 1930s. 60% of them were American citizens.

The mural's radical message was also an uncomfortable topic for societal matron Christine Sterling, Olvera Street’s leading promoter, possibly because it did not conform to her image of Olvera Street as a docile and tranquil Mexican village. Unfortunately for the artists, the conservative politics of the era triumphed over artistic expression, and within six months a section of the mural visible from Olvera Street was painted out. Within a year, the work was completely whitewashed.

In a superbly ironic turn of events, the mural was rediscovered in the late 1960s when the whitewash began to peel off, revealing Siqueiros’ hidden yet still powerful statement.

I do love a good metaphor.

Next: the meanderthal age continues!

P.