TENSILE TOWNS SECRET SLUM
While on an excursion to Hollywood’s most exclusive Hotel and eatery
Châteaux Marmot, I came across something that was in stark contrast to
the glam and pomp of the movie industries most hallowed ground. Just
off the Santa Monica Freeway in the recesses of the off ramp I noticed
something glimmering in the bushes. Upon closer examination I noticed a
shopping cart. Then I noticed yet another, then another.
After the meeting, a most deliciously decadent salmon dinner and a few
glasses of wine I decided to make my way back to this most curious
scene. As I panned the location I was struck by its complexity fore
there were many makeshift huts. Shopping carts were parked in a most
distinguished fashion, all in a row. They looked like jets parked on a
flight deck. Each one was decorated by various items such as plastic
flowers and the like.
Within the bushes there were many huts and lean twos in an equally
neat row. I was stunned by the ingenuity and utilization of cast off
card board, tarp and plastic. In the back ground was Century City with
its rising crystalline towers and engineering marvels. They obviously
were the homes of many motion picture empires and moguls. Truly it was
a billion dollar landscape and some of the most valuable property in
the Southland. At its door step was this shanty town.
People were busy moving about within this enclave of the
impoverished. They seemed not to have a care in the world as they
chatted. Their attire was a mixture of rags, out of date polyester and
patchwork. Folks were laughing and singing along with a gentleman who
had a harmonica. It was a rich mixture of races and I noticed a few
children running through the flight deck of shopping carts. I became
mesmerized as I tried to drink in all that I saw. It was like stepping
into a B Rated movie like Mad Max or Thunder Dome, a futuristic series
of movies about survival after a cataclysmic world catastrophe.
It truly was a hypnotic scene and I could not help but watch in total
awe. Was I looking into a key hole of the future for humanity? Was this
a pre-view of the envisioned “Humbling Times”? I could not turn away as
I peered through the dense bushes. They were not bitter or unhappy from
what I could see. Regardless of their appearance they all brandished
smiles. Granted not all of them hadteeth but who cared. It was a
moment of bliss for these human beings. I found myself feeling a bit
envious since they truly were not on the “grid”. My mind drifted in
thought as they sang and played the harmonica.
Then the spell was broken by a loud, “What do you want from us?” I
turned around to find three men dressed in rags. They did not seem too
happy with my spying on them it would appear. I explained that I was a
journalist and was hoping to get an interview with them or the people
within the camp. The eldest man came forward and said; “We are not a
part of your world anymore so please leave us alone” I turned back
around only to find the festivities I was watching has ceased and
everyone was looking at me with a blank expression. They stared
motionless at me and with a bit of distain. The eldest gentleman made a
motion for me to leave and I did. As I made my way back to my car I
could hear the people asking if I was going to call the cops or force
them to leave. The elder said, “I don’t know”.
The next day I returned for another meeting at the Châteaux Marmot.
But as I drove onto the off ramp I did not see a soul, the shanty town,
the row of shopping carts and the people were all gone. The landscape
was different as well somehow. This tribe of forgotten American’s
simply disappeared without a trace. But I still can hear the harmonica
and envision the people dancing some jig in the dust beneath the Santa
Monica Freeway. But I’ll never forget what the man said, “We are not a
part of your world anymore” Sadly, many more people will soon be thrown
away as the secret depression gains momentum in the land of the free.
Your Devil’s Advocate
Buffalohair
_________________
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind
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