I'm in Hollywood

As if by miracle, some innocent starry-eyed FO picked up two of my standups to Eugene, Oregon. So instead of deicing the wings and tail at 530am, I found myself sound asleep, attempting to make up for my sleep deficit for the three days prior. I now had nearly five days off in a row, which gave me a chance to finally attempt to get back in shape. Over the last year, Runyon Canyon had been shut down while it underwent some renovations. It used to be a dirt path with ruts and potholes filled with sandbags and dog poop.


These days, Nicole and I don't find many reasons to go to Hollywood since the traffic and parking situation is not terribly hospitable to us. And as a Californian, I am obligated to detail my route to get there. We took Westchester Pkwy to La Tijera to La Cienega and then cut over on Rodeo to La Brea and circled around Hollywood and Franklin until we eventually found a parking spot. We set out on a newly paved Runyon trail. Unfortunately, the dog poop was still there as well as the usual clientele of dog walkers in yoga pants.



Having experienced one of the coldest and wettest winters since I moved to LA, it was nice to have a sunny day with temps around 70 degrees. The rain had turned the side of the hills from brown to green. After our hiking adventures, we ate outside at Chick-fil-a and began our 45 minute drive back to good ol' Playa del Rey. Enroute, we spied a little street art on the side of La Brea. What does it mean? I guess they found Waldo, and he's been up to no good. Anyway, I post it here for my dear father who is a fan of kitsch street art. Then we just took Venice to Culver to Pershing and came back home.