Last night at the "Emergency" room at Olympic Medical Center, a couple of young men in their mid-twenties or so escorted a friend to the facility for treatment after he was assaulted.
Allegedly, a gang of youths attending a "house party" in Brentwood, started a fiery ruckus around midnight which ended up disturbing the next-door neighbors.
When a couple of the residents turned up at the party digs with a request that the noise level be squelched a tad, one defiant teenager (about 16 or 17) proceeded to angrily shove the local resident from behind into an empty cement pool.
Unfortunately, he hit his head on the concrete and suffered a short "black-out".
On the heels of this senseless act of violence, concerned friends bundled their pal up and whisked him off to the nearest local hospital .
At this juncture, the culprits ran down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
Cowards!
I shook my head in disgust as I listened to the violent tale!
One man in the waiting room expressed his shock about what went down this way.
"In Brentwood! Can you believe it?"
About two days ago, I also crossed paths with a "victim" involved in a separate incident, which confirmed my suspicions that there is a growing hostility - leading to violence - escalating in the mean streets of Los Angeles.
For example, a Latino man around thirty years of age was apparently eating a snack at a fast-food take-out at Highland and Santa Monica Boulevard late one evening this past week, when an Afro-American man with half of a broken bottle in his hand demanded he fork over his earphones and CD player.
After complying with the request, the low-life reached over and tried to snatch up his wallet, too.
Allegedly, a gang of youths attending a "house party" in Brentwood, started a fiery ruckus around midnight which ended up disturbing the next-door neighbors.
When a couple of the residents turned up at the party digs with a request that the noise level be squelched a tad, one defiant teenager (about 16 or 17) proceeded to angrily shove the local resident from behind into an empty cement pool.
Unfortunately, he hit his head on the concrete and suffered a short "black-out".
On the heels of this senseless act of violence, concerned friends bundled their pal up and whisked him off to the nearest local hospital .
At this juncture, the culprits ran down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
Cowards!
I shook my head in disgust as I listened to the violent tale!
One man in the waiting room expressed his shock about what went down this way.
"In Brentwood! Can you believe it?"
About two days ago, I also crossed paths with a "victim" involved in a separate incident, which confirmed my suspicions that there is a growing hostility - leading to violence - escalating in the mean streets of Los Angeles.
For example, a Latino man around thirty years of age was apparently eating a snack at a fast-food take-out at Highland and Santa Monica Boulevard late one evening this past week, when an Afro-American man with half of a broken bottle in his hand demanded he fork over his earphones and CD player.
After complying with the request, the low-life reached over and tried to snatch up his wallet, too.
In response, the "victim" put up his arm to prevent the thief from making off with his personal effects.
At this point, the attacker slashed the humble Mexican man across the face of his hand with the jagged edge of the bottle, which resulted in a serious would which required hospitalization.
Ironically, about one hour earlier, I casually assured a New York woman that the neighborhood she had taken lodging in was pretty "safe".
In retrospect?
I was obviously wrong.
Notwithstanding, a couple of nasty confrontations I have experienced first-hand in trendy West Hollywood and Beverly Hills in recent days, have caused me to re-think the neighborhoods I venture into after-hours, the mode of travel I'll use to go back and forth, and so forth and so on.
Like Barack Obama, I normally engage in long walks, which I have found are the perfect leisure activity to collect my thoughts, piece together rough drafts for my blog, rustle up a bit of much-needed exercise, and simply catch a breath of fresh air.
So, if I have a chore to do (and time permits) I usually keep the car parked and walk around the neighborhood, instead.
In view of the outbreak of violence in the streets lately, I am rethinking that scenario.
In addition, I am seriously considering abandoning commutes on the Metro, because of a couple of incidents of late which shook me up.
Last week, for instance, I boarded a bus and ended up plunking myself down opposite a young male and his female companion.
As the bus roared along a main street through tony Beverly Hills and then beyond into West Hollywood, I started to organize my schedule for the next day.
As my stop approached, I signaled to the bus driver my intention to exit.
Just as I was nearing the rear door, the young African-American male (who originally sat across from me) suddenly appeared from the back of the bus and started to hurl wild allegations at me.
"I should beat your a** for listening to my conversation. Don't you ever do that."
I stared at him incredulous for a second, then uttered a reply.
"What are you talking about? I never did any such thing."
The truth of the matter is, I was so caught up in my own thoughts, that I didn't even notice when he stood up and moved to a seat at the back of the bus.
Even still, he continued to rant!
Then, he threatened me.
"If you get off this bus, I'm going to come after you and kick your bu**," he hissed.
Well, I'd had enough of his nonsense!
So, I boldly stepped off the bus into the street.
After I firmly planted my feet on the sidewalk, I have-turned and gave a suggestive glance his way
"Come on."
Suddenly, a ripple of fear crossed his face.
Then, he hesitated.
Uh-huh.
His menacing posturing - and in-your-face intimidation tactics - were nothing but empty bravado meant for show.
Because I called his bluff, he was at a loss to fathom how to save face in front of the busload of passengers who were now on the edge of their seats hanging onto every moment of the intense drama that was unfolding before them.
Fortunately, his girlfriend dashed forward and urged him not to pursue the issue further.
"It's not worth it," she cried out.
He shrugged, and tried to give off the impression that he was going to be generous, and "let it go" this time.
Out of the goodness of his heart?
Bullsh**.
In spite of the timely intervention by his friend - which saved his sorry black a** - it was evident when the bus lurched forward on its route once again that he didn't learn anything from the nasty encounter.
Once the bus doors were closed, and he was safely ensconced inside, he pointed an angry finger at me in a threatening manner and yelled through a crack in the door:
"I'll get you next time."
Right!
I won't hold my breath, kiddo.
Another incident last night, was the final straw, though.
I was strolling up a street in Hollywood proper, when I happened to glance up from the sidewalk for about one second to get my bearings.
As my eyes left the cement walkway, a scruffy-looking low-life happened to be in my eye line, and we ended up glancing at each other for a split-second or two by accident.
"What are you looking at?" he snarled at me.
With lightning speed, the wheels of my mind turned quickly, and a solution to the problem was offered up from the lower reaches of my psyche.
"Ignore the a**hole. Keep walking," my inner voice commanded me.
As I strode past him, he shouted at me:
"Fag!"
At this point, I was inclined to retort back.
"Sorry. I am not into ugly-looking men like you."
But, common sense prevailed, and I simply moved on.
Gandhi would have been proud.
During moments like these, themes in vigilante movies like those that recently featured Jody Foster in the lead role - or morality tales Charles Bronson starred in a couple of decades ago which touted taking the law into your hands - seem to make a lot of sense.
Yup!
The next time some piece of ghetto sh** strides up and insults you?
Solve the problem pronto.
Pull out a gun and blow him away.
Society will thank you for it, just betcha.
At this point, the attacker slashed the humble Mexican man across the face of his hand with the jagged edge of the bottle, which resulted in a serious would which required hospitalization.
Ironically, about one hour earlier, I casually assured a New York woman that the neighborhood she had taken lodging in was pretty "safe".
In retrospect?
I was obviously wrong.
Notwithstanding, a couple of nasty confrontations I have experienced first-hand in trendy West Hollywood and Beverly Hills in recent days, have caused me to re-think the neighborhoods I venture into after-hours, the mode of travel I'll use to go back and forth, and so forth and so on.
Like Barack Obama, I normally engage in long walks, which I have found are the perfect leisure activity to collect my thoughts, piece together rough drafts for my blog, rustle up a bit of much-needed exercise, and simply catch a breath of fresh air.
So, if I have a chore to do (and time permits) I usually keep the car parked and walk around the neighborhood, instead.
In view of the outbreak of violence in the streets lately, I am rethinking that scenario.
In addition, I am seriously considering abandoning commutes on the Metro, because of a couple of incidents of late which shook me up.
Last week, for instance, I boarded a bus and ended up plunking myself down opposite a young male and his female companion.
As the bus roared along a main street through tony Beverly Hills and then beyond into West Hollywood, I started to organize my schedule for the next day.
As my stop approached, I signaled to the bus driver my intention to exit.
Just as I was nearing the rear door, the young African-American male (who originally sat across from me) suddenly appeared from the back of the bus and started to hurl wild allegations at me.
"I should beat your a** for listening to my conversation. Don't you ever do that."
I stared at him incredulous for a second, then uttered a reply.
"What are you talking about? I never did any such thing."
The truth of the matter is, I was so caught up in my own thoughts, that I didn't even notice when he stood up and moved to a seat at the back of the bus.
Even still, he continued to rant!
Then, he threatened me.
"If you get off this bus, I'm going to come after you and kick your bu**," he hissed.
Well, I'd had enough of his nonsense!
So, I boldly stepped off the bus into the street.
After I firmly planted my feet on the sidewalk, I have-turned and gave a suggestive glance his way
"Come on."
Suddenly, a ripple of fear crossed his face.
Then, he hesitated.
Uh-huh.
His menacing posturing - and in-your-face intimidation tactics - were nothing but empty bravado meant for show.
Because I called his bluff, he was at a loss to fathom how to save face in front of the busload of passengers who were now on the edge of their seats hanging onto every moment of the intense drama that was unfolding before them.
Fortunately, his girlfriend dashed forward and urged him not to pursue the issue further.
"It's not worth it," she cried out.
He shrugged, and tried to give off the impression that he was going to be generous, and "let it go" this time.
Out of the goodness of his heart?
Bullsh**.
In spite of the timely intervention by his friend - which saved his sorry black a** - it was evident when the bus lurched forward on its route once again that he didn't learn anything from the nasty encounter.
Once the bus doors were closed, and he was safely ensconced inside, he pointed an angry finger at me in a threatening manner and yelled through a crack in the door:
"I'll get you next time."
Right!
I won't hold my breath, kiddo.
Another incident last night, was the final straw, though.
I was strolling up a street in Hollywood proper, when I happened to glance up from the sidewalk for about one second to get my bearings.
As my eyes left the cement walkway, a scruffy-looking low-life happened to be in my eye line, and we ended up glancing at each other for a split-second or two by accident.
"What are you looking at?" he snarled at me.
With lightning speed, the wheels of my mind turned quickly, and a solution to the problem was offered up from the lower reaches of my psyche.
"Ignore the a**hole. Keep walking," my inner voice commanded me.
As I strode past him, he shouted at me:
"Fag!"
At this point, I was inclined to retort back.
"Sorry. I am not into ugly-looking men like you."
But, common sense prevailed, and I simply moved on.
Gandhi would have been proud.
During moments like these, themes in vigilante movies like those that recently featured Jody Foster in the lead role - or morality tales Charles Bronson starred in a couple of decades ago which touted taking the law into your hands - seem to make a lot of sense.
Yup!
The next time some piece of ghetto sh** strides up and insults you?
Solve the problem pronto.
Pull out a gun and blow him away.
Society will thank you for it, just betcha.
