Sunday 14 July 2013

Come on Baby, Light My Fire....

California has the most amazing fire engines.  They are incredibly shiny, huge, with lots of possibly unnecessary chrome and loads of bright red paintwork.  While sitting outside a cafe in Santa Cruz, a red shininess would cruise (Cruz) past, several times.  There was no emergency to be seen, no smoke rising from anywhere.  A local man said they needed to drive around to get used to the streets.  It did occur to me that they might just be showing off.  One of the trucks was so large, it took ages to go by.  (Sorry it's not a better photo, but the fire department photos are all under copyright).
After my coffee I watched a bizarre Balloon Man entertaining the kiddies.  I think 'Crusty the Clown', typifies everything I feel about children's entertainers, or maybe Stephen King got it right.  Whichever, they worry me.  Maybe it's the painted on perma-smile, which would still be there even on hearing the news that nuclear warheads had been launched.   However, later in the day I was to be rather thankful to the Balloon Man.

In a side street, waiters from local restaurants were racing each other round tables, slalom fashion, carrying glasses filled with water on trays.  They had to complete different tasks at each table, such as wrapping cutlery up in napkins.  It was a very jolly atmosphere, and everyone loved it, especially when the glasses went flying.


An antique fair was on in another side street, and it was fun to see all the American paraphernalia on display - a 'Sweeney Todd' style barber's chair, and Native American style goods.  The old lunchboxes had scenes from baseball matches or cowboys on them.  Further round  I was jolted back to thoughts of the UK by a poster
because I used to live very close to the Elephant and Castle (area of London near a pub of that name). Odd to note that Des O'Connor is still going strong.............

After this, I found myself in the Museum of Art and History.  I only meant to cast a cursory glance round, but was so absorbed in the displays, I stayed a couple of hours.  I think this was because my first recollection of being taught about America was from primary (elementary) school, where we learned about the Gold Rush and logging.  I remember being fascinated by the lumberjacks riding on rafts of logs down swirling rivers.  The other interesting and sad thing to learn about was how many disasters have hit California.  There were the earthquakes of course, but also several very severe episodes of flooding.  The earthquakes mean that bricks and mortar structured buildings went out of favour.  It's the opposite of the situation in the UK, where timber buildings are the ones hard to get mortgaged.

After this overload of culture, I was ready to head back, but was distracted by a modern art gallery near the bus station.  I drifted in (it was that sort of a day), and started laughing almost immediately with the witty sculptures.  One was made from the metal burner covers from ovens, which were hung in an arc along a wall.  There was an American payphone booth which had been turned into a water feature, and a fountain in memory of Steve Jobs.  This had a half melted Mac at the top with Apple logos and Steve Job's photograph arranged around a doric pillar.  A beautiful (real), red speckled bird was sitting on top of the Mac having a drink.  Inside were guitars made from toilet seats and all sorts of clever combinations of every-day items.

Maybe you had to be there.....................

Eventually I made it to the bus (with clever bike rack on the front):

I could tell people thought I was strange photographing our bus, but hopefully not as strange as Balloon Man who embarked just after me.  He was carrying balloon kit on a frame and was wearing a stripy rainbow hat, knee high stripy rainbow socks, harem pants with diamante detail and lots of draped scarves, along with the lurid, rictus grin.

The bus was driving along, and I was watching the world go past, but after a bit started to worry I was on the wrong bus, as the shops looked unfamiliar.  We had gone past the Pied Piper sign alright, but now we were somewhere strange.  Meanwhile, Balloon Man had walked to the front of the bus (it wasn't possible to tell whether he was worried) and was having a chat with the driver, who burst out laughing.  The bus then swung round fast in a 180 turn and we started heading back to the Pied Piper.

Walking back up the hill was helped by listening to my 'Ground Rush Party' play list on my iPod (quiet thank you to Steve Jobs).  I was singing along to Donna Summer (Love to Love Ya Baby - long version, who says I'm not up to the minute with my music?).  As I walked, I thought about how my childhood impressions of America had been formed by those lessons on the Gold Rush, but also by watching the 'Top Cat' cartoon on TV.  This must be why I am enamoured by street furniture, including fire hydrants (people thought I was strange photographing this too - thank goodness the Balloon Man had lowered the bar for strangeness):

The most shocking news of the day though, was this:



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