I spent the last Wednesday of the old year and the first Thursday of the new year in Pasadena. As soon as I saw the USC Trojans destroy the UCLA Bruins and the Oregon Ducks crush the Oregon State Beavers, I knew that I would be doing something that I had never done, and something no one in my family has ever done either.
I first watched the Rose Parade as a child. The channel that has nonstop coverage was KTLA 5, which still has nonstop coverage today. But what made these two days special for me is that I not only get to watch it live, but actuall see the floats, the horses, the bands, and experience camping by the curb. It is unprecendented my my family to have seen the parade, IN ITS ENTIRETY, LIVE.
I herded enough cash (thanks to some gifts from my family and from my job at the Bar Foundation) to make this possible. The itinerary was as follows. Note: I will also add some side commentary as I go along.
December 31, 2008
4:00 a.m. Alarm bell on my cell phone rings. I wake up.
4:40 a.m. Shower
5:00 a.m. Dress into my special gear: a USC trojan shirt a USC sweater, newly bought brown pants, socks and my reliable black Nike leather sneakers, and my thick black jacket. I also had, at my disposal, a gray beanie with matching gloves and a muffler, my "Alaska hat" (a simple leather beanie with ear flaps and strings), and a few caps.
5:30 a.m. Breakfast. Honey Nut Cheerios, a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches (Monterey Jack toasties), some coffee and water. Oh yes, and also a bowl of Kettle Chips. Lightly salted. The only plain crisps I approve of. By Bonga's Assent.
6:00 Pack up supplies. A few papers to log the fun, a large black blanket, my iPod, Mom's camera, a couple disposables, and three rolls of film. I underestimated the amount of shots I needed, as well as the cold. Next January 1st, I'm bringing a sleeping back and SEVEN rolls of film. Or two boxes of threes and a disposable.
6:30 I walk to the bus stop at the corner of Easy Avenue and Hill Street to take Route 1 on Long Beach Transit to Wardlow Station. They had some road work, so I had to make a detour.
7:00 I arrive at Wardlow Station, and take the Blue Line to 7th Street & Metro/Julian Dixon. At this point, Japan in now in the New Year, with the Philippines soon to follow.
7:40 Transferred to the Metro Red Line heading toward Union Station, but first took a detour to Civic Center to purchase some trinkets from Kinokuniya in Little Tokyo.
8:00 I arrive at Kino's to buy a Konata Izumi accessory for my keychain...but they would not be open for another two hours. Like the Costa MEsa store, they don't open until 10:00 a.m.
I sat on a bench nearby and waited, scribbling some stuff on the log.
10:00 Kinokuniya opens.
10:10 I purchase the accessory, and a volume of a little one-shot by Arina Tanemura, "Mistress Fortune." Arina T. needs to consider drawing more buxom chicks. Seriously. Maybe a little mole or two, but there can only be one Mikuru Asahina.
10:20 Returned to Civic Center Station.
10:36 Took Metro Purple Line to Union Station.
10:50 Got on board Metro Gold Line to Memorial Park Station.
11:25 Arrived at Memorial Park Station.
11:35 Purchased Rose Bowl Game program and a red Tournament of Roses cap.
11:40 A native guy by the name of Will found a spot for me to camp on. Using a piece of pink chalk, I marked my spot: just a few feet from the merchandise stall. This location was great for a number of reasons: it was close to the Norton Simon Museum, where a majority of the grandstand watchers and cable networks were located, and it was just a 15-minute walk from Tournament House.
12:00 p.m. Walked to Norton Simon Museum, took shots of the rose.
12:10 Took photos of Tournament House and some of the bleachers on Orange Grove Avenue.
12:20 Snacked on some clementines by a tree on Orange Grove.
12:30 Walked back to viewing spot while taking another shot of the rose at the museum, now raised. Lunch. Some pasta, a bag of chips, and Blue Diamond Almonds. I should have brought a few more water bottles.
1:45 You see all these different cars going up and down Colorado Boulevard Antique coupes. Horsepower roaring on the asphalt. Broken down, rusted trucks. A limo. Another limo. A stretch Hummer. A caravan of police cars. A few open air convertibles showing their school pride out loud. This place had mostly USC supporters, though.
I was listening to some ZZ Top. I couldn't wait for the sun to go down. New year already passed by most of Asia and Russia.
For the next few hours, I wasn't inclined to leave my spot. I continued to watch the cars go by. Watched over Will's area, with the Oakley MP3 sunglasses blasting reggae music.
3:27 33 minutes till London rings in '09. 5 hours snd 33 until the ball is dropped in Times Square.
I saw more copues, still more Eliminator wannabes, motorcycles, mopes, cars with craploads of silly string attached to it, the occasional Metro Rapid bus, and countless chicks going in and out.
A little trivia: this year's court is made up of high school girls and college freshmen. And the Rose Queen, Courtney Chou Lee, has a moe feel to her. This could only mean one thing: all you jocks out there, at least one of these darlings may be available, if they aren't already...Who knows, one of them might end up making it big on Playboy. Whoa. Now THERE'S an ambition.
By the way, Courtney chose USC to win the game. She's love.
Really love. I hope more Asians get selected as Rose Queens and Princesses. It will say a lot about my folks.
Those mufflers are roaring up and down Colorado Boulevard as I write this. Just saw a broken-down Clampett-quality Ford advertising a company called "Rags Car Wash" heading east on Colorado. Ah, Colorado Boulevard. Home to the Weird and Wonderful.
Is it just me, or do all these Parade participant pretenders just want to be seen and heard?
5:00 p.m. A drunken boor who fell in with us a few hours ago was taken away by police after impeding traffic while taking photos, littering on the sidewalk (smashing a bottle of liquor), and fighting a couple near my area. I picked up my backpack, lunch bag and blanket as the guy, who was Will's bro, wrestled him down. Taking a photo, I observed something interesting as onlookers took notice.
"A guy in a red shirt taking down a transient in a blue jacket," I said to one of them, sneaking a contemptuous grin. "That can only mean thing: USC is gonna kill Penn State tomorrow."
He cracked up, shaking his head. I turned to the rest of the crowd and said, "Attention all you Penn State supporters! THIS is what's gonna happen to your team tomorrow! You have been warned."
Bored with the situation, I went to Hot Wings for the last (actually next-to-last) dinner of the year. A simple meal: a burger, fries, and a couple swigs of pink lemonade. $10. I had the owner keep the change as her tip.
Returning to my spot, I had a feeling that the last batch of pasta would be downed tomorrow morning. In reality, it would be consumed a few hours later.
6:15 p.m. A biker with blue sparkling lights passes by. Two hours and 45 minutes until the ball drops in Times Square. Five hours and 45 minutes remaining of 2008, 13 hours and 45 minutes until Rose Parade CXX begins. I am calm, I am collected, I watch a young girl cry in her partner's arms, America-style.
6:40 Professor Wes Weasely of the Division of Theremin Studies explains what a theremin is. It's a device used on the old Hollywood horror flicks of the past. In the spirit of the theme, "Hats off to Entertainment."
The secret invention was tested by me, Will and the rest of his crew, including a stout guy by the name of Kong. He's a load of fun. He makes a prognostication (a correct one, if you will) of USC winning the game. "You know, fuck all this talk about Penn State winning and all that. You might as well give your money to me, because USC is going to win this game." A lot of bookmakers are calling it too. So am I. OoooooOOOOOooooooo....
The next few hours are just relaxing on the concrete, saying hello to other passers by. Will asked me, "What music do you like?"
"Ramones, The Clash, The Rolling Stones," I said. "You are a PUNK! You're awesome!'
Flattering.
9:00 p.m. The ball drops in Times Square. The new year enters the bulk of North America and the USA. I sit back on thge concrete and reflect on what 2008 brought: the personal highs and lows, the tragedies and triumphs, graduation, grad school and other events that have happened. At the same time, I accept the fact that there will be a new agenda, a new administration a new sense of hope.
9:25 p.m. A car utilizing its windshield wipers as arms, and is coated in silly string, rides down Colorado Boulevard eastward. Another string of seven police cars heads east.
10:40 p.m. Half the country is in 2009. A shitfaced reveler hurls a bottle of Bundaberg in the direction of a group of revelers next to me. The cleanup crews head off to clear the shards as I take my spot behind the blue honor line.
That guy is going to be very lucky if he isn't caught for littering and endangering other people. And I mean VERY lucky.
By this time, I have already purchased two other programs: the official Rose Parade program, and a special program combining the game and parade, courtesy of the San Gabriel Valley Newspaper Group. Total in programs: About $19.
11:00 p.m. I now make my move behind the blue honor line. '09 has arrive in the Rockies. God save us all, for we are next.
January 1, 2009
12:00 a.m. 1/1/09. The new year enters Los Angeles. Alaska in one hour. Hawaii in two, American Samoa in three. Everyon on the boulevard is screaming, banging pots and pans, and I am shaking my tin of almonds, dancing like a bloody lunatic, even collapsing on the concrete skyward, pointing to the heavens.
The Rose Parade starts in eight hours.
12:25 a.m. People are sleeping, and so am I. Now I direct my thoughts to the Parade.
1:30 a.m. A riot on Colorado Blvd. ensues, presumably between men and men from Pennsylvania and Southern California. First major arrests of the New Year.
1:45 a.m. A couple more transients preach blasphemous jibjab about the USA that would normally have them sent to the gallows in other, more oppresive lands like puppets on a string.
Up and down, fans express support for their teams. A Penn State supporter laid the boring claim that USC's teams are named after a famous brand condom bearing their name. Boring.
Will and his friends are always fun to hear. The live comedy skit job, the discussions about a former member of their posse, a longtime friend, "burning" (hustling) their alienated friends for $150.00 and Kong talking about getting all his ladies banged silly-only to be denied the opportunity when he came back from his errand-is something I will remember for the rest of my life, along with the Parade. The Colorado Boulevard Young Comedians Club. Keeping it real, honest, and fun. And there is the obvious disclaimer: if you are under 18, you are free to ignore the comedy near where I was spending the first night of the new year.
5:15 a.m. A local streetside entertainer sings his tribute to the new year on his makeshift portable keyboard. Two hours and 45 minutes to the Parade. We're flyin'. Every part of the work has entered 2009. And my back is hurting from lying on the concrete.
5:30 a.m. Parade of the Tow Trucks. While unofficially not a part of the Parade, those trucks are needed in removing cars that are on, or near, the parade route. I took my hat off to them.
6:41 a.m. The sun rises for the first time in the new year. The hawkers got to work. Mexican and US flags (in anticipation of the marching band from Puebla). Champurrado. More programs and cotton candy, as well as hot wings. Scarves, beanies, beads all around.
The Blaxicans - that's the name of their group. They are still at it, and even I joke with them.
6:45 a.m. 75 minutes until the Parade starts. I do a little jogging up and down Colorado to loosen the legs. In a mockery of drug addicts, I take 50 huffs of the fresh San Gabriel valley air.
8:00 a.m. The Parade starts. I start by taking shots of the skywriters, followed by some of the police motorbikes, a few snaps of a B-2 Spirit bomber at 9:00, myself with the expression, "Oh shit! The Parade's gonna start!!!", and then the floats, horses and bands.
As the Trojan Marching Band plays, I take photos, and flash the Victory sign. I was really fired up when they played "Tribute to Troy & Fight On!".
In the end, I used up all my remaining shots on my film, and on my cell phone.
10:30 a.m. I shook hands with the Riverside City College marching band staff and some of the L.A. County Sheriff's deputies and thanked them as the parade concluded. Behind them were some more tow trucks and even some protesters holding signs about predictable Christian fluff. It looked like a peaCE march in the background. I had to get the hell outta there in a hurry. Packing my bags, I left.
10:35 a.m. Took a special bus to Union Station, since the Gold Line was jammed.
10:48 a.m. Took the Red Line to 7th & Metro/Julian Dixon Station.
11:03 a.m. Arrived at 7th & Metro and got on board the Blue Line heading south to Long Beach, with a minute to spare.
11:30 a.m. Got off at Willow Station. Hydrated at McDonald's and walked to the bus stop on Atlantic to take care of some Credit Union business via route 61.
11:50 a.m. Took Route 62 from Atlantic & San Antonio Drive to 5th Street and Long Beach Boulevard.
12:00 p.m. Took Route 1 to Delta and 21st (still having road work done)
12:30 p.m. Arrived home. Mission accomplished.
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