3rd & Fairfax since '34

Tourist Central, LA Landmark
Lunch at Farmers Market. Nice to place to hang. Ethnic restaurants. Fresh produce. Specialty stores for Hot Sauce, Teas, and tourist junk. They even have a Bakery for pets, Bagels for Beagels. Nice.

Ringing of the bell. Reminds one of a mission bell. Twelve rings shouting mid day. Tourists figuring out what to have for lunch. Small mom and pop shops owners sitting all day in a little cubicle surrounded by food and ovens. People gawking at their wares. Signs of “Cash Only” strewn all over the place. Tax under filing reasons I assume.

International Going Local

Moishe’s Village has middle eastern food. Run by a Filipino lady, I think. Guess it is like Hispanic people at Panda Express and Armenian people selling Greek food. 

Gone to the exotic tea shop before sitting for lunch. One would figure it would be run by one of Asian descent. No, Hispanic. Most Asian restaurants are manned by non-Asians.  Hutington Meat market have painted-on rates that have been the same for years. "$3.98 for Suckling Pig, Wild Boar, Venison, Rabbit, Squab, Pheasant, Ostrich."

Memories: Seasons Change

My favorite section is the ice cream, donut, and pizza corner. It used to be next to the magazine store of my youth. Now it is a bathroom area. It connect the past with the future of the Grove. They don’t validate for parking for the Grove at Farmers Market. Why? They're connected. One can ride a mini tram from the Grove to the Market. It is a true market of the future and past. 

LA Experience, Faux Authentic-ism

At the Grove, they have Cheesecake Factory, Barnes & Noble and the Apple Store. Commercialized-mall-ified stores. Like Boylston Street and Downtown Boston. One gets the touristy feel of Farmers Market with all the memorabilia junk like fake academy awards, overpriced postcards, and yet it feels like home. Guess, I like the feel of faux authentic-ism. 

Turning on the my internet card, there are many wi-fi sites available. Hidden Modernism revealed. Where would we be without our internet? So much underneath. Not like NYC. If people don't like you, they have no problem saying so. LA is well, laid back, passive aggressive. Its like the difference between Jerry Buss and George Steinbrenner.

Tourist's Dress

Moishe's café is a busy place now. Not really a big Falafel fan, but it seems the most popular this afternoon. Tourists in shorts. Camoflage shorts and wife beaters. Australian, I think. One older lady clutches her purse. Must have traveled around. She might have been a victim of gypsies in the past. Heard many a stories of Italians having their stuff taken.

Cameras at their side. Ready to take that obligatory shot of a foreign food place. Bet that they have a Farmers Market close to home. Most cities do. A taste of exoticism locally. That is one reason why to venture here. Its to try something different. With the explosion of Panda Express, fast food sushi, and Taco whatever—the exotic has become common. Crepes made fresh. Guiness with the Soccer match going on the flat screen. Jambalya with real cornbread. Korean Barbecue next to the real ziti Italian place.

Invisible Hand

Perhaps this a good thing? This convergence of internationalism. It has been said that the best way to combat wars is through trade. If all these countries rely on each other, then we are less apt to war with each other. That was the logic behind NAFTA. Why mess with the paycheck? Moreover, stuff gets cheaper. More choices creates competition. When restaurants battle with each other for food choices, then we are apt to get better value, more bang for our buck.

Been Made

A lady is staring at me. She must have seen me taking pictures of the background. Hispanic or Middle Eastern. Don’t really want to stare. She is giving me a look I can't decipher yet. Mad-dogging or gazing? Not really my type. She plays with her blackberry. Don’t know if she has taken picture of me, like I have taken pictures of others. I heard a flash. C’est la vie. Maybe I will be background for her photo on Facebook.

Unguarded Moments

People don’t really smile too much when they take stilted pictures. Not of action. Just a standing there. A portrait picture with Farmers Market background. A portrait picture with a Niagra Falls background. A portrait picture with stuffed ancient pachyderms. Its nice and all, but the photos I prefer are those unguarded moments where they are aux naturale. No, not commando. Its where they are caught in the moment. Not in some artificial pose. Its feels more honest.

New Zealander, British, Allemand?

Many types are here in the Farmers Market. Beach shorts and sandals. Try not to look touristy, but they stand out. Cowboy hats with an English (maybe Australian) accent ordering Crab Louie and clam chowder. Wonder if they think its an authentic LA experience. Soup was probably out of a can.  Oops, not English at all. German. Gutentaag. Guten morgen. Guten something. The glass cased refrigerator shows the freshly made Bay Shrimp Tostado Salad. Poached Salmon Salad. Jumbo Shrimp cocktail. They stare for minutes.

This a nice place to sit.  Cool breeze. The waft of the open furnace say, “Choose me.” 

Orders Up

A redheaded young lady waits in front of Moishes. Laced black top and a short, short nude skirt. Red bag at hand. I wonder where she is from. Don’t think she is from Southern Cal. Doesn’t have that air confidence about her. This seems awkward. Ordering Food,  Reminds me when I go with my niece and ask her to order. She seems unassured with herself. It seems like the redhead doesn’t want to be judged. She waits for a falafel. Yeah. Bell rings again. 12:30. She give her dad a bump of indecisiveness.She reminds me of Shell.

Oooh, Donuts. Oh Oh, Pigeons. Don’t feed the pigeons. Saw one almost fly in the face of a man. His sisters and brothers laughed at this near mid-air collision. Fresh fish and chips (Drool). A mother asks her daughter what she wants to eat. Louis Vitton bags. Books of junk. Something that will clutter her already filled closet. A man with name tag. Must be working at CBS studio next door.

David, Your Food Is Ready

Anna is her name. Red-head, blue eyes. Moishes calls out your name when your food is done. Hillary, John, Kiko, Israel—those were the names so far. Robert is yelled out. A lady with an oxygen tank walks by. Her tube is interlaced into her clothes. Baseball capped kids. Shouts in smile. Man with a suit and sleeve tattoos. Tie still needs to be made.  Well, these are just the sights to see in the Farmers Market. Wait. Here’s another sight. A couple is holding hands. Both are missing a front tooth. They match. Now that’s devotion.

Parking?!*)@

Well, its time to go. My validation is almost up. Been here almost two hours. Sometimes parking is ridiculous in LA. Some places downtown, its $2 every 15 minutes, maximum $20 a day. Thing is "Every 15 minutes" is in small print. 

LACMA is calling. People are asking each for an empty seat. When I leave, there will be a mad dash for this table I am sitting at. Its happened twice already. People are waiting and its time to run. Its been a nice couple of hours at the Farmers Market.