Current Littourati Map

Neil Gaiman's
American Gods

Click on Image for Current Map

Littourari Cartography
  • On the Road
    On the Road
    by Jack Kerouac
  • Blue Highways: A Journey into America
    Blue Highways: A Journey into America
    by William Least Heat-Moon

Search Littourati
Enjoy Littourati? Recommend it!

 

Littourati is powered by
Powered by Squarespace

 

Get a hit of these blue crystal bath salts, created by Albuquerque's Great Face and Body, based on the smash TV series Breaking Bad.  Or learn about other Bathing Bad products.  You'll feel so dirty while you get so clean.  Guaranteed to help you get high...on life.

Go here to get Bathing Bad bath products!

Entries in On the Road (67)

Monday
Apr122010

On the Road: Sunset & Vine, Los Angeles, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 20, 2007

Unfolding the Map

Into the midst of the teeming city Sal finds himself with his new girlfriend Terry. Today, Hollywood. Sal tries to get a job at Schwab's drugstore (which he locates at Sunset and Vine but which is actually a block away at Selma and Vine). What can be interpolated and extrapolated from Sal's words? Read on and find out, Littourati! Click the map for the latest update.

Book Quote

"We went to Hollywood to try to work in the drugstore at Sunset and Vine. Now there was a corner! Great families off jalopies from the hinterlands stood around the sidewalk gaping for sight of some movie star, and the movie star never showed up. When a limousine passed they rushed eagerly to the curb and ducked to look: some character in dark glasses sat inside with a bejeweled blonde. 'Don Ameche! Don Ameche!' 'No, George Murphy! George Murphy!' They milled around, looking at one another. Handsome queer boys who had come to Hollywood to be cowboys walked around, wetting their eyebrows with hincty fingertip. The most beautiful little gone gals in the world cut by in slacks; they came to be starlets; they ended up in drive-ins."

On the Road: Chapter 13

Sunset and Vine, Hollywood, California

Hollywood! Movie capital of the world (if you don't count Bollywood in India, which actually has made more films than Hollywood for years). Is it any wonder that Sal and Terri try to find a job here?

Hollywood enters our collective fantasies. Who hasn't wanted to be a star, or be close to the stars -- at least on a first name basis with one so that we can be invited to the parties. Nowadays we long for a glimpse of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Leo, Bennifer, even though we publicly announce our lack of interest, or disapproval of their work, their ways and their life. If Paris Hilton were to walk into a coffee shop or restaurant that I happened to be in, I would probably be secretly thrilled for a moment, even as later I would be dismissing the effect to people I know. As Sal shows, the same desires were present in the 1940s, substituting the names of the day. Don Ameche! Was he a big star before that movie he made in the 80s about the old people and the alien cocoons? (Yes, he was!)

But, like Sal suggests, for every star Hollywood has many wanna-be stars working crappy jobs and trying to make it. It's not all a happy ending out there where American Idol finalists with some talent get movie and recording contracts. The entertainment industry is a cold mistress. Two of my high school companions went to L.A. in search of careers, one in stage and one in music. They tried it for years, struggling to find work even while getting a chance to hobnob with the big names once in a while. One is back in my hometown, and has become a local celebrity of sorts as a singer-songwriter, but certainly does not have the fame that he probably originally traveled to L.A. to find.

The other works at a financial advising company, moved away from L.A. in search of more affordable housing, and seems to have left the theater behind. I find this a bit sad, as he was such a good performer and he loved the theater. He probably could have made it in a different place where he didn't face so much competition. But L.A. is the gold standard, and if you can't make it there...

If you want to know more about Sunset and Vine, Schwab's drugstore, Don Ameche, George Murphy or Hollywood in general

Sunset Boulevard (Classic movie line: I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.)
The Sunset Strip

Hollywood and Vicinity (in yesterdayla.com)
IMDB: Don Ameche
IMDB: George Murphy
Lana Turner, allegedly discovered at Schwab's
New York Time: Closing of Schwab's
Wikipedia: Don Ameche
Wikipedia: George Murphy
Wikipedia: Sunset Boulevard

Next up: Hollywood Boulevard, Hollywood, California

Monday
Apr122010

On the Road: South Main, Los Angeles, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 29, 2007

Unfolding the Map

We've hit L.A., and will be moving in and around this large city for the next few posts. It is the city of lights and dreams for some, but does Sal get fame and fortune? Read on and see. Click on the map to see where we are presently.

Book Quote

"We got off the bus at Main Street, which was no different from where you get off a bus in Kansas City or Chicago or Boston -- red brick, dirty, characters drifting by, trolleys grating in the hopeless dawn, the whorey smell of a city....

"South Main Street, where Terry and I took strolls with hot dogs, was a fantastic carnival of lights and wildness. Booted cops frisked people on practically every corner. The beatest characters of the country swarmed on the sidewalks -- all of it under those soft Southern California stars that are lost in the brown halo of the huge desert encampment LA really is. You could smell tea, weed, I mean marijuana, floating in the air, together with the chili beans and beer. That grand wild sound of bop floated from beer parlors; it mixed medleys with every kind of cowboy and boogie-woogie in the American night. Everybody looked like Hassel. Wild Negroes with bop caps and goatees came laughing by; then long-haired broken down hipsters straight off Route 66 from New York; then old desert rats, carrying packs and heading for a park bench at the Plaza; then Methodist ministers with raveled sleeves, and an occasional Nature Boy saint in beard and sandals. I wanted to meet them all, talk to everybody, but Terry and I were too busy trying to get a buck together."

On the Road, Chapter 13

South Main Street, Los Angeles, California

Boy, is this a description of L.A. from the past! Nowadays we all have an image of Los Angeles. I bet you can think of a few of them from the top of your heads. Let's see: smog, traffic jams, movie and television stars, glamour, sunshine, beaches, parties, Academy Awards.

I have a confession to make. As I've said before, I'm a native Californian. I grew up in the northern half of the state, and as I've also said before in a previous post, the northern half of California has little love for the southern half of the state. So, in that spirit, I didn't truly visit Los Angeles until I was about 40 years old, and that was only because I went to a wedding.

Yet to fully understand all of California, you have to understand all of its parts. I'm still learning. I've now been in the L.A. area twice, and only for a short time. I wish that I had seen the L.A. that Sal describes. This L.A. sounds vibrant, interesting and condensed, like a city should be.

I suppose I should describe a little of what he saw, this carnival he writes of. Bop, of course, is the popular jazz of the day, the sounds of which permeates the the city. In the late 40s and early 50s, bop was the music that the most cutting edge people listened to. Hassel was the name Kerouac used as a pseudonym in On the Road for Herbert Huncke, who impressed Kerouac with his free-will choice to live off the streets by a life of petty crime. Hipsters were the counter-cultural crowd of the time, Jack's spiritual and ideological contemporaries, who loved jazz, experimented with drugs and had their own slang. They are somewhat distinct from what we now refer to as "hipsters." Desert rats were people who lived in rural (deserty) areas of the southwest U.S. Nature Boys were followers of the lifestyle espoused by Robert "Gypsy Boots" Bootzin, who was one of the earliest proponents of an organic lifestyle, including veganism, yoga, organics, and may have opened the first health food store in the world.

This melange of characters seem to be all located in one centralized location, which does not fit the images that most people, or at least I, have of L.A. Los Angeles seems to be very spread out and to not encourage this centralization. Perhaps back in the 40s, L.A. had a more big city feel to it, perhaps more of a grittiness and melting pot feel than today. I wonder if South Main Street is still like he describes, or if the character of it has changed or moved somewhere else in the city? Regardless, L.A. has become a destination that I would travel to again, based on my limited experience, because in places it is beautiful, there are still interesting people to watch and meet, and there are attractions that fit my definition of interesting.

If you want to learn more about South Main Street, Los Angeles, Nature Boys, Herbert Huncke and hipsters. Don't worry, we'll get to jazz and bop soon.

Beat Museum: Herbert Huncke
Gypsy Boots' Homepage
Herbert Huncke interview
Making a Life in South Los Angeles
The Morning News: Do You have Hipsters
Wikipedia: Herbert Huncke
Wikipedia: Hipsters in the 1940s
Wikipedia: Hipsters (contemporary)
Wikipedia: Robert "Gypsy Boots" Bootzin
Wikipedia: South Los Angeles

Next up: Sunset and Vine, Los Angeles, California

Sunday
Apr112010

On the Road: Bakersfield, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 28, 2007

Unfolding the Map

Sal hits what many Californians consider the end of the road. But not for Sal, at least not yet. It's actually the gateway to some love and music, and good times lie beyond. Want to see where we are?  Click the map!

Book Quote

"I had to go south; I got on the road. A man in a brand-new pickup truck picked me up. He was from Lubbock, Texas, and was in the trailer business. 'You want to buy a trailer?' he asked me. 'Any time, look me up.'

"He left me off south of Bakersfield, and then my adventure began. It grew cold. I put on the flimsy Army raincoat I'd bought in Oakland for three dollars and shuddered in the road. I was standing in front of an ornate Spanish-style motel that was lit like a jewel. The cars rushed by, LA-bound. I gestured frantically. It was too cold. I stood there till midnight, two hours straight, and cursed and cursed. It was just like Stuart, Iowa, again. There was nothing to do but spend a little over two dollars for a bus the remaining miles to Los Angeles."

On the Road, Chapter 12



Bakersfield, California

Dwight Yoakam sang a song, The Streets of Bakersfield, which could easily fit Sal's journey. Though Jack wasn't really into country music as far as I can tell, preferring the jazz, bop and jump blues that Sal will discover in Los Angeles, I like to think he would relate to the lyrics:

I came here looking for something
I couldn't find anywhere else
Hey, I'm not trying to be nobody
Just want a chance to be myself

I've done a thousand miles of thumbin'
I've worn blisters on my heels
Trying to find me something better
On the streets of Bakersfield

You don't know me but you don't like me
You say you care less how I feel
But how many of you that sit and judge me
Have ever walked the streets of Bakersfield?

Spent some time in San Francisco
Spent a night there in the can
They threw this drunk man in my jail cell
Took fifteen dollars from that man
Left him my watch and my old house key
Don't want folks thinkin' that I'd steal
Then I thanked him as I was leaving, and
I headed for the streets of Bakersfield

You don't know me but you don't like me
You say you care less how I feel
But how many of you that sit and judge me
Have ever walked the streets of Bakersfield?

You don't know me but you don't like me
You say you care less how I feel
But how many of you that sit and judge me
Have ever walked the streets of Bakersfield?

How many of you that sit and judge me
Have ever walked the streets of Bakersfield?

The fact is, in California terms Bakersfield is kind of like the end of the world. It is a place, like Fresno, that has an undeserved reputation as being the least attractive place in California. However, Bakersfield has contributed an immense amount to American culture by inspiring the Bakersfield sound in country music. At its best, country music calls upon common themes of America which Jack Kerouac claims he is seeking in On the Road: hardship, hard work, the rural experience, pain and suffering followed by joy and redemption. The Bakersfield sound is exemplified in such iconic American artists such as Buck Owens and Merle Haggard.

Yes, I think Bakersfield was a perfect stop for Sal -- and as we'll see later, he makes a return trip. While this stop in Bakersfield is not the proverbial end of the road for Sal at this point in time, it does serve as a gateway to the end of his trip later. Fortunately, he has more adventures ahead!

If you want to know more about Bakersfield

Bakersfield Californian
Bakersfield Convention and Visitor's Bureau
California State University at Bakersfield
City of Bakersfield
Wikipedia: Bakersfield

Wikipedia: Bakersfield sound
Wikipedia: Buck Owens
Wikipedia: Merle Haggard

Next up: South Main Street, Los Angeles, California

Sunday
Apr112010

On the Road: Fresno, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 27, 2007

Unfolding the Map

We're in the heart of California's Central Valley, moving on down toward LA. Click the map!

Book Quote

"He drove me into buzzing Fresno and let me off by the south side of town. I went for a quick Coke in a little grocery by the tracks, and here came a melancholy Armenian youth along the red boxcars, and just at that moment a locomotive howled, and I said to myself, yes, yes Saroyan's town."

On the Road, Chapter 12

Fresno, California

Californians can be very provincial. I'm not sure this isn't like other parts of the United States, and we certainly know that provincialism on a larger scale is known as nationalism and has caused many problems on the international stage. When I write "provincial," I mean an attitude that not only is the place where one is the best place, but also that one has a lack of interest in other places.

I will provide my own mother as an example, who has been a place or two, but who really never left my hometown except for some temporary trips, and who doesn't seem to have a great curiousity about the outside world. But I have more as well. There seems to be a reluctance among many New Orleanians, and having lived there I have found this to be true in many cases, to leave their home and settle in any other place. This can be summed up for two reasons -- one is that New Orleans was and still is a very unique place in our country, but the other is that New Orleanians feel this uniqueness and cannot see themselves in any other place, despite the problems and the difficulties that come with living in New Orleans. This is why post-Katrina, the diaspora was so difficult for many New Orleanians -- they have difficulty adjusting to life outside of New Orleans because of their attitudes, their rootedness to the place and to their social environment.

So, in California, the Bay Area thinks it is THE place to live. All of Northern California is very resentful of Southern California, and Southern Californians feel pretty superior to everyone else.
About the only thing that urban dwellers in California can agree upon is that they can look down upon more rural areas of California, and when I was growing up, going to or living in Fresno (or Bakersfield, which will be considered in the next post) was considered to be a karmic punishment.

Why this is, I don't know. I haven't been to Fresno. But I heard about the blazing hot summers, the thick tule (pronounced too-lee) fog in the mornings that made driving hazardous. The lack of things to do. I bought into these attitudes, but have since learned in my life that making pronouncements about places not only does an injustice to them, but also limits one from ever exploring what they may have to offer. I offer as an example Houston. When I lived in Texas and in New Orleans, everyone pretty much put down Houston. It was hot and humid, it was a concrete jungle, it was too big, you had to drive long distances to do anything. Yes, Houston was these things and more, but we found by exploring it that there are fantastic things in Houston that make some of the inconveniences worth negotiating, like the Art Car Parade, or the Rothko Chapel.

So I try not to bias myself against Fresno or any other place any more. Sure I have my favorites, but everything seems to have at least something to offer. And it is notable that in this particular Kerouac passage, Sal acknowledges that Fresno is the hometown of William Saroyan, who wrote optimistic tales set in some of America's darkest times. If Fresno was such a terrible place, then wouldn't it have made a worse impression on Saroyan? Wouldn't Saroyan's stories and plays be darker?

If you want to learn more about Fresno

California State University - Fresno
City of Fresno
Fresno Bee
Fresno City and County Historical Society
Fresno Convention and Visitor's Bureau
Wikipedia: Fresno
Wikipedia: William Saroyan
William Saroyan Society

Next up: Bakersfield, California

Sunday
Apr112010

On the Road: Madera, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 26, 2007

Unfolding the Map

Racing down through Central California, Sal is waxing poetic as he usually does. Not surprising, given that his creator was a poet. Click the map!

Book Quote

"...Madera, all the rest. Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgundy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries. I stuck my head out the window and took deep breaths of the fragrant air. It was the most beautiful of all moments."

On the Road, Chapter 12

Madera, California

These moments, as Sal describes, are hard to come by. You have to really treasure such times. Kerouac uses both sight and smell to describe this evening, and it's interesting that I remember my own moments in the same way. Sunsets over the Pacific Coast, where I grew up, were notable. Especially on evenings in early to mid-summer, when the air was cool but not cold, and the sun set over the ocean through a panoply of clouds, leaving muted pastel colors of yellow, orange, red, gold, purple and pink in its wake. There was always a smell of salt surf in the air -- even when the ocean was calm small breakers would still throw up mist into the air, which had a slight but sharp aroma when inhaled.

Evenings in New Orleans were often associated with both light and smell. One evening, not long after I moved there, I went to some friends' house in the Riverbend district. As I pulled over and parked, the sun was setting. The sky in the west was an incredible burnt orange, the likes of which I had never seen before nor have I seen since. The air was filled with the aromas of New Orleans -- jasmine, wisteria, gumbo, crawfish and jambalaya. I stayed outside my friends' house until the burnt orange faded into a purple, soaking in the beauty of it all.

On a trip to Canyon de Chelly, in northern Arizona, we camped in a Navajo-run campground on the reservation. We awoke early one morning to the sound of Native American flute music softly playing on a loudspeaker at the camp headquarters. I crawled out of the tent to see the most amazing dawn. The air was crisp and cool. The moon, which looked gigantic, was setting in the west -- the sky near the horizon was black like night, changing in hue as my gaze lifted toward the sky above me to a very dark blue. Above me the last few stars of the evening blazed. Then, as my gaze turned east, the sky began to lighten, changing from dark blue into a dark red, then red, then orange until, at the eastern horizon, the first glow of the sun peeped up over the scrub of the desert. I felt, at that moment, perched on the edge of night and day and that I had the power to tip the balance between darkness and light. It was a magical moment that I may never see repeated.

Moments, then, in time and space that we can't repeat will still stick with us forever. We leave it to the poets and the dreamers to make them real for the rest of us.

If you want to know more about Madera

City of Madera
History of Madera County
Madera Tribune
Wikipedia: Madera

Next up: Fresno, California