Topanga Days – May 30, 2010

Greetings!  I am winding gently into day #3 of the Memorial Day long weekend and am celebrating by doing work for Canadian clients.

Saturday I hopped in the Mustang and headed out to Topanga Canyon for the Topanga Days festival.  It is basically a small local affair with kiddy rides and foods stalls and music stages.

It was there that I had a chair massage by the gentleman pictured below.  He looks gentle enough, and I imagine he is Thai but it was the HARDEST massage I have ever had.  If he were Vietnamese I would suspect he learned his techniques from his relatives while they were practicing on John McCain or any other American POW.  I felt great afterwards but I have had plenty of massages in my life and this was the toughest.

Unlike most Canadian local festivals, this had a decided SoCal tinge to it.  I don’t know many Ontario fairs that would proudly feature not one but two vegan stalls.

I reacted by buying myself a pulled pork sandwich which I immediately spilled down the front of my white shirt.  It left a stain of an orange hue not readily found in nature.  I suspect the shirt is a write off, as well may be the case for my lower intestine.

This stall was selling crystals of all sorts.

This one hats and scarves and incense

There were a couple of stages.  The main stage was featuring a female duo who were frankly pretty weak and did possibly the worst AC/DC cover I have ever heard.  The smaller stage, tucked away down the back side of the hill, featured a much more promising rock band whose singer sounded quite a bit like Brian Johnson of AC/DC.  Odd, two AC/DC references in the same paragraph.

Will Geer (televisions “Grandpa” from the Waltons) started a theatre company here years ago.

All in all this is the kind of place where patchouli and handkerchief blouses are still considered a good idea.  The canyon is huge and beautiful, the people laid back and peaceful (and very probably stoned off their gourds)

And has the added bonus of winding up here:

Check out the size of that beach, and the relative number of people on it.  And this was the Saturday of the Memorial Day weekend.

In the spirit of the “Doing All Things Jane” I have found a spa in West Hollywood with Russian baths and am going for a massage and brunch.  I will have to be careful – I have managed to burn my feet, knees and shoulders over the course of the weekend.  I was at the beach yesterday with Anny and her clan (saw her delightful mother and step father for the first time in 20 years).  I was introduced to her cadre of ex-New Yorker Jewish housewife friends –  all paired with men significantly their senior, all with children, none with a job, all with more money than god.  One of the men (who looked a little like a cranky younger version of Uncle Fester) is evidently worth over 100 million dollars.  Nice enough group, not my peeps, not a lot to talk about.  When I left they were talking about the difficulty of labeling their children’s clothing for sleep away camp.

Off for a rubbing, more later.

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