Monday morning we headed down to LA. Janet had to catch an evening flight back home to SF, so we tried to come up with a couple of glitz and glam things to do before she leaves.
First on the list was to get pics taken while leaning against the 'H' of the Hollywood sign. Not so easy it turns out. After a pretty annoying drive (I never said I can read a map! You all just assumed). We got as close as you can get to it, without having to deal with electric fences, dogs and snipers. Wh

We thought of heading to the Getty but then someone (well, by now I guess everybody knows that someone is me) had the idea of let's see what the GPS has to offer in the area... And guess what comes up? "My Jewish Discovery Place"! I kid you not - our trusty GPS proposed "My Jewish Discovery Place" as our next stop, and having had some serious bacon thoughts (if not real bacon) that morning, I found it impossibe to say no. Some 40 minutes later, driving through heavy LA traffic we reached said discovery place. And while I have enormous respect for jews, jewish food and jewish places, that particular one really sucked. It was one of those nondescript, big concrete building.. Nothing remotely Jewish about it. Next to it there was this gang of Hispanic youths trying to impress the chicks. Coming to think about it, it looked a bit like the setting for West Side Story. Definitely nothing to do with Fiddler On The Roof...
I think this was when we decided to cut our losses and do lunch, which, as always, was very pleasant, although we were the only ones dining in this big Italian place in the suburbs, with the Soprano-esque owners doing what seems to be money laundering at the far end... But I mean, isn't that part of what owning a suburban Italian is all about?
Ten minutes later we were on our way to LAX airport, where Janet dropped me get my car, before heading back home to San Fran.
1 comment:
my jewish discovery place? what do they discover?
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