Rose Bowl, episode 4. In which I fish scale new heights.

I think I've mentioned my pre-pubescent penchant for fish sticks previously, but even my adult appreciation for fresh fish has never led me to the precarious precipice of donning fisherman's gear and brandishing a fishing pole.

My love for cooking and my appreciation for fleamarkets (and concomitant collector's gaze) did lead me, however, to this epicurean gadget purchase during our Saturday morning fishing expedition at last October's Rose Bowl flea.

Now at home hanging off one of the IKEA Grundtal rails (far right between the ladles and fish spatula) in my eclectic (decoratively cluttered) dream kitchen, the Chinese fish scaler now serves a purpose more ornamental and inspirational than its intended utilitarian purpose (but it's also at hand just in case I do dive off the deep end and decide to actually go fishing).

Mari and I had stumbled onto an eclectic booth of vintage furniture, household items, and creatively crafted home decor. We also stumbled into an engaging young couple with perfectly charming fleamarket vendor personalities and a penchant for traveling similar to our own.

The husband is a talented furniture craftsman who grew up in Italy, moved to NYC and finally to LA (by way of the Big D, of course), collected a charming and talented wife along the way who herself collected and refurbished and resold a wide variety of bric-a-brac and household ephemera (my favorite).

He had cast these concrete candleholders in the perfect carry-on size for fleamarket travelers like us!

Although landing not quite light as a feather in Mari's tote, the clever combination of concrete, wood, and metal scored a perfect hat trick for us as we added the industrially charming duo to our new kitchen.

Now, I know what you're thinking when you look at my new old fish scaler (other than the fact that I will likely never scale a fresh fish in my life)... How the heck do you expect to get that through the airport without checking a bag, Lou? Way ahead of you, my friends. The following Monday we would make a quick visit to a local post office to mail said semi-sharp TSA-unfriendly weapon-like kitchen implement home in a padded mailer.

$2.94 and a trip to the post office sure beats a $25 checked-bag fee.

Had we been fleamarketing a lot closer to home, some of the vintage and rustic gardening decor Mari enjoys browsing would have wound up in our back yard.

I am always fond of browsing mid-century furniture. Not so much a fan of leaving it behind at fleamarkets, but I love admiring it, snapping a photo, and (sadly) walking away.

There was a nice variety of mid-century mod teak at a (fairly wide) range of prices on display that Saturday in the "Antique Merchandise" section of the Rose Bowl which covers nearly half the vendor space.

Truth be told, Mari and I barely managed to cover about a third of that half in the three hours we spent inching and flea-ing along.

 

The amount of knick-knack paddywhack on display coupled with the beautifully browsable grounds (and the charmingly talented couples) can be overwhelmingly enjoyable.

 

With a full bottle of water and the right weather conditions, I'm good for about three hours of flea-ing before I crash like the S. S. Minnow. My first mate and I were not quite ready to call it a day, however.

A final view from the flea and a little post-flea fleamarketing next time.

Olympics. In which all the world makes joyful noise.

Before I return to my romanticized reminiscences of our first visit to the super-sized and well-worth-the-hype Rose Bowl fleamarket, I'm thrilled to interrupt my blog routine with a moment of happy reflection for a welcome change.

As all of my loyal readers know, attending an Olympics had long been a dream of mine for a variety of personal, mostly sentimental reasons. My week with Mari at London2012 (I can't believe it has already been nearly six years) was fittingly overwhelming.

I know I've posted this photo twice already, but it's probably my most favorite travel photo for so many reasons. 

I especially remember  the local Londoner, an older gentleman, who asked if he could take our photo. Mari and I have long been proponents of the "camera exchange" with fellow tourists, but we were thrilled to have our photo taken by a London2012 volunteer who was proud to represent his home town and share his local knowledge, friendly attitude, and camera skills with the multitudes of out-of-towners who had descended upon his beloved London.

He even lent us his foam finger (which all the volunteers were using to help lead our way) for a most memorable souvenir photo.

If you watched my home video clip (link reposted below) from the women's volleyball final at London's Earls Court on the final evening of competition (London, episode 18), you undoubtedly noticed how emotional I was. (Just ask Mari, I was like that the entire week.) Surrounded by thousands of people at all times, we traversed one of our favorite cities in search of stadiums and venues that had been constructed to bring diverse peoples together and to unite them for a common goal... supporting and rooting for the "home team," of course, wherever and whoever that "home" may have been on any given day.

My 2012 Olympics journey forever altered my spectator perspective, even as I settle in comfortably at home to spectate the Olympic games. This week's celebrations and historically uplifting opening ceremony from PyeongChang encouraged me to celebrate the unifying power of the Olympic games this blog week.

What a wonderful change it is to pause to reflect

on the joyful noise of celebration!

I know I'm an idealist (and a romantic), but powerful images of unity broadcast worldwide from the technologically magical and humbly historical opening ceremony are forever fixed in my memories. Even that enigmatic smile of North Korean representative Kim Yo-jong has become a symbol of international diplomacy at its (most manipulative) best.


Choose your own symbol of peace and unity and celebratory glee from the past few days and savor that as you reflect from your own little corner of our pale blue dot...

Although we did not journey to South Korea (it's on a future list, I assure you) for the triumphant festivities and to snap our own amateur photos, I wanted to offer you links to articles and color photos from NBC's informative and carefully curated Olympics site.

nbcolympics.com

The bright red uniforms and even brighter smiles ecstatically enrobing the multitudes of North Korean cheerleaders at the unified Korea team's opening women's hockey game.

nbcnews.com/storyline/winter-olympics-2018/unified-korean-women-s-ice-hockey-team-debuts-olympics-heartfelt-n846636

17-year-old Red Gerard's last-minute third-run gold medal aerodynamics at the men's snowboarding slopestyle finals.

nbcolympics.com/news/snowboarder-red-gerard-wins-first-us-gold-medal-2018-winter-olympics

South Korea's Lim Hyo-jun's dramatic gold medal win (the first for South Korea at these Olympics) in the men's 1,500 short-track speedskating final.

nbcolympics.com/news/olympic-recap-mens-1500-womens-3000m-relay

Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's dramatically poetic short ice dance that helped put Team Canada atop the team skating event going into Monday's finals.

nbcolympics.com/news/new-tessa-virtue-and-scott-moir

Despite their clumsy appellation, even the "Olympic athletes from Russia" (OAR) stand as a symbol of unity, competing together as a team, representing physically-fit athletes devoted to their sport.

nbcolympics.com/news/russian-olympians-adapt-life-neutral-uniform

If nothing else, the boldly exuberant entrance into Olympic Stadium of Team Tonga (you know who I'm talking about even if you don't remember the name Pita Taufatofua) during the opening ceremony should motivate you to watch and root for your favorite team or athlete, even if they are not yet your favorite.

nbcolympics.com/news/shirtless-tongan-back-pyeongchang-and-all-oiled-once-again



Although I will likely still be gleefully glued to Olympics coverage on my TV and laptop, I will return next week with more good times and fleamarketed goodies from SoCal.

youtube.com/watch?v=nmxOvCazeRw&feature=youtu.be

Rose Bowl, episode 3. In which we stop to smell the succulents.

Feeling slightly less itinerary-bound than during my own epic five-day LA 50th birthday weekend, Mari and I had some unusually unheard-of free time when it was her turn to celebrate being fifty. Here we are spending some of that free time enjoying a nice walk in the late summer sunshine along the Pacific Coast Highway pedestrian path in Santa Monica.

Once again, we cozied up to the comforts of the Channel Road Inn but managed to spend a little more than just a few "down" minutes each day enjoying our special room. Thanks, again, to the wonderful staff for your warm welcome (and cookies!) and indulgent birthday pampering. 

Here is the site again should you wish to pursue your own pampering. I'm hoping an annual visit makes its way onto our own travel calendar.

channelroadinn.com

At right, Mari is leading your gaze out to the famed Santa Monica pier that we strolled last time (after paying an inexplicably excessive $15 for parking).

The pedestrian-friendly path alongside the restlessly hectic PCH overlooks the beach below and is itself beautifully lined with flourishing flora and luscious succulents.

We explored a little more of our lush Santa Monica surroundings this time around and enjoyed the somewhat touristy but bountifully festive Santa Monica Place.

A combination of indoor and outdoor shopping mall with plenty of restaurants as well as a movie theater, Santa Monica Place was easily accessible, even walkable from the Pier, but there is also plenty of street parking and a (paid, of course) parking garage.

Be sure to visit the site to do a little pre-planning and to explore your dining options. As you know, Mari and I are fond of the Cheesecake Factory and found ourselves sampling birthday cheesecake on more than one occasion.

santamonicaplace.com

I am fortunate to be a man of few regrets and fortunately most of those regrets merely involve inconsequential longings associated with unpurchased fleamarket finds. Pictured atop the vintage sideboard above is a set of bone china I kind of wish hadn't gotten away that Saturday, but I'm not really sure where the mid-century Royal Vale tea set would have ended up in our home. Mari may be forever grateful that I did not introduce yet another set of dishes or tea set into our life, but at least I was able to snap a photo and walk away without too much trauma. Besides, we had just barely made our entrance into the vintage/antique section of the Rose Bowl flea and there was still plenty of appetizing acreage for my collector's gaze to patrol.

One of the things I like about the Rose Bowl flea is that vendors are allowed to pull up to their reserved spot and unload and display as they see fit. As a vendor, that is the ultimate in convenience. The Long Beach flea, on the other hand, proffers vendors' goods in uncomplicated and neatly ordered rows of tables and booth displays. If you have ever schlepped boxes and unwieldy packages of items for flea sale from a distant parking lot to your assigned 10' x 10' space, then you will appreciate the convenience of the Rose Bowl flea for vendors.

The arrangement also allows for colorfully eclectic shopping experiences like this...

And this retro-friendly favorite...

I caught Mari mid-beeline as her own collector's gaze eyed a charmingly beat-up metal toy truck she plans to turn into a charmingly beat-up planter (for a succulent, of course). Creative vendors like these lend an industrial-sized fleamarket like the Rose Bowl personal charm and give shoppers, browsers, and collectors a memorably charming (or charmingly memorable) experience.

Among my own purchases that Saturday were some additions to a favorite collection. My previously pictured and blogged typewriter ribbon tin collection (NYC Markets revisited, episode 6) received four new old additions.

Not to worry, I bundled the transaction from a single vendor who actually happened to be the only vendor among the hundreds we browsed with typewriter ribbon tins for sale.

Again, it is the font-fabulous graphics and striking colors that draw me to these miniature collectibles. I also appreciate their diminutivity (just trying it out, relax) which makes them fun to collect from faraway markets and likewise easy to drop into bubble-wrap pouches for safe travels.

The living room display is gill-packed now, but makes me happy.

More fleamarketing from the Rose Bowl (and beyond) next time.