Yesterday, we went up into the hills, Griffith Park, the observatory. It was after a fantastic lunch at Il Pastaio in Beverly Hills. I had the veal, a thing I have not had in some time. It was delicious, and I ate the tender marrow; a horror to all of my vegetarian friends, a crime to my vegan counterparts, I'm certain. What can I say? I felt bad at first, like a very terrible man, but the bad feeling passed with each delicious bite. Experience extracts its toll.
Then, after the observatory, we searched the handheld internet for a brewery nearby. We found one. A little hipster-ish place called "Golden Road." We sat on the patio and sipped beers as the day became cooler. By the time that we got home it was already well past my bed time. We watched a recording of the NBA game with San Antonio losing terribly in the second half.
That is an accounting of the day.
The observatory was what you'd expect it to be. It is not every day that you get to observe the sun "live" with the naked eye. One could see the solar flares emerging from the sides, sun spots, all of it, only 8 minutes past. I had been to the observatory once before, years ago, during my "lost weekend" of dj'ing, my dalliance with "the music industry"... I don't remember much of it. I just remember being there, and being high, thinking myself to be quite cool, etc.
LA looks exactly like it's supposed to from up in the hills. There is so much smog that a white glow just hangs over the city, even on the clearest of days. Without a polarizing filter there was no point in trying to photograph any of it, but I tried anyway. The results were what you would expect. Just a blur of hazy light seen from a distance.
Normal people go to bed at a normal hour, I assume. Visiting with others makes me realize how truly off center my sleeping patterns are. We ate dinner after 10pm last night. It felt as if I had been asked to dine in Moscow. I am convinced that I got jet lag from it.
I awoke this morning at my usual hour and groggily checked my time zone, just to be sure.