It's been almost a week since I returned from my trip to LA. Strangely, time moves with lightening speed in the state of California because I can swear I blinked twice and it was time to return to la belle province again!
Getting there: I had Julia drive me to the airport early. WAY early. Although my flight was leaving at 6am, I didn't want her driving home from the airport at 4:30, half asleep. I figured I could easily waste time at the airport for a few hours so we left the house here at 1am. She dropped me at the arrivals, hugged me, listened to my mini safety lecture (for the hundreth time) and off she went. I entered the airport and found one other soul trolling around the emptiness. He smiled and kept his distance and since I'm Canadian, I knew that made him safe. It was then that Julia texted me (after pulling over, she later told me) to say that our goodbye had been too short, that she already missed me and wished me a great time in LA. (Have I mentioned that she's my favorite daughter?) People began streaming in and before I knew it, lights were flicked on. Check-in began shortly after 4am. Fast forward and I'm boarded, safety belted and landing in Toronto. Fast forward again and I'm boarded, belted and taking off for LA. Leaning against the window a half hour into the flight, I give in to the fatigue and start to doze. I awake about 10 minutes into my slumber to the sound of the pilot announcing our return to Pearson. It seems there's a problem with the fuel delivery system. Nothing dangerous, he assures us, but reason to return all the same. He veers right and I look down to see nothing but water beneath us. I try to block out all the pictures I've ever seen of luggage and life vests bobbing in bodies of water amid twisted fuselage. I'll spare you any further details except to say that all things added up to a FIVE HOUR DELAY. Yeah. Definitely worth missing a night's sleep for! Yet, with all that, my lift was STILL late. HA! (I only make mention of this because anyone who knows me knows the L in Lainey stands for 'late'. So nice that for once, it wasn't me!)
Once there (the highlights): I visited THE coolest cemetery - Westwood Memorial Park Cemetery. Nestled smack in the middle of busy LA streets lined with skyscrapers, you turn your car into what seems like the ramp of a parking lot, only to find yourself in the entrance of a cemetery! Park your car right in the cemetery and then walk around, where you easily get lost in the beauty, stillness and celebrity of the place. I have no idea how long we were there, but there wasn't a marker there that I don't think we stopped to read. Yeah, it was cool to see where Dean Martin, Natalie Wood, Buddy Rich, Eva Gabor, Rodney Dangerfield and a slew of others are buried but I was there for one reason and one reason alone ...
Getting there: I had Julia drive me to the airport early. WAY early. Although my flight was leaving at 6am, I didn't want her driving home from the airport at 4:30, half asleep. I figured I could easily waste time at the airport for a few hours so we left the house here at 1am. She dropped me at the arrivals, hugged me, listened to my mini safety lecture (for the hundreth time) and off she went. I entered the airport and found one other soul trolling around the emptiness. He smiled and kept his distance and since I'm Canadian, I knew that made him safe. It was then that Julia texted me (after pulling over, she later told me) to say that our goodbye had been too short, that she already missed me and wished me a great time in LA. (Have I mentioned that she's my favorite daughter?) People began streaming in and before I knew it, lights were flicked on. Check-in began shortly after 4am. Fast forward and I'm boarded, safety belted and landing in Toronto. Fast forward again and I'm boarded, belted and taking off for LA. Leaning against the window a half hour into the flight, I give in to the fatigue and start to doze. I awake about 10 minutes into my slumber to the sound of the pilot announcing our return to Pearson. It seems there's a problem with the fuel delivery system. Nothing dangerous, he assures us, but reason to return all the same. He veers right and I look down to see nothing but water beneath us. I try to block out all the pictures I've ever seen of luggage and life vests bobbing in bodies of water amid twisted fuselage. I'll spare you any further details except to say that all things added up to a FIVE HOUR DELAY. Yeah. Definitely worth missing a night's sleep for! Yet, with all that, my lift was STILL late. HA! (I only make mention of this because anyone who knows me knows the L in Lainey stands for 'late'. So nice that for once, it wasn't me!)
Once there (the highlights): I visited THE coolest cemetery - Westwood Memorial Park Cemetery. Nestled smack in the middle of busy LA streets lined with skyscrapers, you turn your car into what seems like the ramp of a parking lot, only to find yourself in the entrance of a cemetery! Park your car right in the cemetery and then walk around, where you easily get lost in the beauty, stillness and celebrity of the place. I have no idea how long we were there, but there wasn't a marker there that I don't think we stopped to read. Yeah, it was cool to see where Dean Martin, Natalie Wood, Buddy Rich, Eva Gabor, Rodney Dangerfield and a slew of others are buried but I was there for one reason and one reason alone ...
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| Marilyn Monroe 1926 - 1962 |
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| (Yes, those are lipstick prints. No, they're not mine!) |
Some quick and fun MM facts: The stone is permanently discoloured from all the people constantly touching it. Hugh Hefner has bought the space beside her. The guy buried above her was s'posedly flipped in his casket so he would be facing MM forever ( ٩(-̮̮̃-̃)۶ ). Being buried near her (and there ARE spots available) will cost you a minimum of $750K. She was the first celeb buried in that cemetery (chosen by Joe DiMaggio, because two of the women who had cared for her as a child were buried there).
It was surreal. I tiptoed. We whispered. I stood in awe. And now, I can die happy. I stood where MM lies. Not only that, but I got to see where she lived and died! Well, ok ... I didn't 'see' it but I was there! She lived on this road that offshoots from a regular busier street. But her's is this weird lil street that's really a crescent/cul-de-sac type deal, where the fences are high enough to obscure any view of the houses behind them and no one posts their actual address, so scaling the fences would be useless. Not that I would have scaled a fence. Not me. No. I wouldn't have done that. Never!
It was surreal. I tiptoed. We whispered. I stood in awe. And now, I can die happy. I stood where MM lies. Not only that, but I got to see where she lived and died! Well, ok ... I didn't 'see' it but I was there! She lived on this road that offshoots from a regular busier street. But her's is this weird lil street that's really a crescent/cul-de-sac type deal, where the fences are high enough to obscure any view of the houses behind them and no one posts their actual address, so scaling the fences would be useless. Not that I would have scaled a fence. Not me. No. I wouldn't have done that. Never!
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12305 Fifth Helena Dr, Brentwood, CA Highway 23 N. Officially my new favorite highway, second only to the road that climbs Le Salève, in France. What a freakin' trip! (Pardon the pun!) This is an awesome highway to climb and next time, I so want to take it again ... but going down! Not for the feint of heart, the incontinent, acrophobes or altophobes or any other phobia having to do with incredibly narrow roads that wind incessantly and include more hairpin turns than any F1 course I've ever seen. And, if you're lucky enough to ride it in a spankin' brand new Z4, you have died and gone to automotive heaven! This is not to be confused with Philip Taylor Kramer, a bassist with Iron Butterfly who actually DID go to heaven (or did he?) after purposely driving his van off this road in 1995. Apart from that, some great meals - one cooked at my host's home, where I made some kickass risotto (translation: no one died from food poisoning!) and enjoyed some stellar company. I knew leaving would be ... ♪ ♪ I had to find the passage back to the place I was before ... ♪ ♪ ♪ Leaving there: Air Canada, you're a triple D airline (Delivered to your Destination with Delays). I finally made it back to PET 1.5 hrs late. Jordan and Julia texted me while I was connecting in TO to say Julia would pick me up at the airport instead of Jordan. While waiting for my bag, Julia called to say she had arrived. I realized then just how much I'd missed my kids. I get outside the terminal, still talking to her and looking around to locate her. Looking over, I see this tanned, long legged beauty walking toward me and I stop, smiling and wondering how I managed to create someone who looks that good! She hugs me like someone who hasn't seen me in weeks or months, instead of the mere 4 days since my departure. She grabs for all my bags, leaving me completely empty handed and leads the way to the car. She opens up the back door and out leaps Jack, trembling with excitement. Reaching into the front seat, she whips out a bag from Mickey D's, announcing that there's a Filet-o-Fish inside. Do I have a cool kid, or what? She's lost sleep bringing me to the airport and then picking me up again, brings along my puppy to join the welcome home party and stops to get me a snack too! Yep, she is definitely my favorite daughter, hands down! So, back to life in Repen. And missing everything ... and everyone ... back in LA. *sigh* |
1 comment:
I know I told you already, but great blog about your trip.....just reread it and I was on the edge of my seat when you were talking about the plane ride out to LA..... I am very jealous as I have always wanted to see where Marilyn lived and died... (I will bring the books when I visit, and I've been on those hairpin turn roads....yikes......makes me want to call my cousins and set up a trip out to south of LA where they live (closer to San Diego).....
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