GHOST’S ON THE GROUND 7: CECIL

If I live until June I will see my 65th birthday come to pass. Can you imagine, 50 years of smoking weed?

Everybody always said that stuff will kill you. Well look who’s dancing in the happy hunting grounds all the while I consume piggishly, drinking and smoking like an unwanted child.

What I did here? Was the stupidest thing I’ve done since the Salton Sea. No, that’s not right.

This was WAY dumber.

What I did was not only stupid but pushing dangerous. If I was 30 years younger it would have been considered monumentally ignorant, but at my advanced age?

I should have been found under someone’s boot. Just another unwanted blood stain on the streets of L.A.

D J Taj was found dead right under that dumpster which led this reporter to say, Good riddance to a dumbass bitch fool!

Instead I am here telling you a most demented tale.

Woke up on a lovely (Look at all the blue skies in the photos) Sunday morning and had a healthy yet tasty breakfast of yogurt and some delicious strawberries. Hopped into the shower, dressed, grabbed my camera, climbed into the hoopty and drove straight to hell.

On purpose, with intent. Premeditated with malice and, you get the picture.

I’m an on purpose idiot.

Beautiful drive, do remember I live in L.A. so you (the drive home for example) hope but never trust. Using my navigation system I arrive with no issues. First thing I notice is no parking.

Let’s circle the block one more time please. Still looking when I start noticing the clientele has changed. Some of these folks look unhappy and without purpose or direction in their lives. Sure are an awful lot of tents to circumvent and less we forget the amazing array of what looks like dead people just lying on the streets and sidewalks. Others simply walked around looking as if they were just waiting their turn to disappear into the great unknown.

Seems safe enough.

Once upon a time this was the very dream of old Los Angeles. Some of the, if not thee, swankiest digs in the Downtown/Broadway district. A place where all the elites gathered, partied and stayed. Complete with grandeur and lavishness for the well to do.

Today however it has fallen from it’s prominence to its current state of disarray.

I drove to where the world was introduced to the phrase “Skid Row” for a front row look at a so called haunted hotel.

I’ll let that sink in for a moment.

Not just any hotel but The Cecil Hotel.

Star of stage, screen and a pretty easy to find documentary on one of them terribly expensive streaming services.

When the whole “Water tastes funny” thing happened I was still working in local radio and remember the details much too well.

I promised myself one day I too would taste of the funny water myself. Alas God intervened with that damn pandemic. Forcing the closure of many buildings with human stained carpeting, including this illustrious one.

In early 2021 it was reopened for use as a homeless shelter for both short and long term residents. The neighborhood took on a very different vibe at that point.

Until 2023 they tried renting some hotel rooms but it finally fell under complete control of the state of California so of course we all know how that usually turns out.

COME ON “BRICK” AM I IMPROVING AT ALL?

After finally finding an open parking lot. I proceeded to pay way too much for only needing 30 minutes for this terrible misadventure. I grab my camera, then think, if anything goes wrong I’ll need my phone so I’ll just lock it here in my car with my cash and wallet. Good plan, I then set out on my own. To find….

Next up Dum-Dum gets what he deserves.