Straight...No Chasers!

Aaahh...Sunny California, no place in the country quite like it especially Los Angeles...swimming pools...movie stars...outrageous rent...brushfires...gridlock...and televised car chases!


Lately, it seems like there's been a rash of freaks who think they can outrun the long arm of the law. Today (at least as of this writing) we've had two, count 'em, two car chases out here in La-La Land -- one in my neck of the woods which concluded over in Alhambra on the 10 Freeway and the other over in North Hollywood. After chasing the suspect (who was in a stolen car, no less) off the 405 and around surface streets at speeds of up to 90 MPH, Johnny Law nailed his ass in a cul de sac in West Hills. I've written that I'd forgotten exactly when I came to town and estimated but then that last car chase in NoHo, jogged my memory -- it was the first week of February, 1997...


What has become my stay in Los Angeles began with couch surfing over at a friend's pad in North Hollywood. His crib was located a block off of Lankershim Boulevard in the Valley. Things being as they were, I had to get gainfully employed which I did over at the local Wherehouse (a record store) over on Bellingham Avenue. (What're you laughing at? At least I'll admit it). My job was one block West of Laurel Canyon which I'd walk down every morning on my way to work but one fateful day I was coming in another direction...


On the night of February 27th, I hooked up with this chick from work so the next morning I strolled it from her spot over on Whittsett Avenue. (click header) I cut across on Sherman Way, went under the freeway overpass and through a park which ended at the Wherehouse's parking lot. As I walked by the b-ball courts I looked up and noticed a swarm of news helicopters hovering overhead, almost on top of the Sears, "just another traffic accident," I thought. As I waved at the store's manager who was unlocking the door for me from the inside we both flinched at the sound of AK-47 volleys ricocheting off the walls. "Was that an automatic rifle report?" he asked as I ran into the building...


Once inside, I started to set up shop and just as I noticed the lack of traffic on Victory Boulevard, my boss broke in and exclaimed: "There's a live bank robbery on the tube!" We went into the break room and watched the North Hollywood Heist of '97 unfurl on TV in real time. As it turns out, the violence was closer than either of us thought, it was around the corner at the Bank of America a couple of blocks over -- we were glued. The "that's just on TV," feeling of everything got hairy and grew teeth as we peeped what was taking place over by the KFC and it had us both on edge. We were hearing gunshots, helicopters and sirens in 3-D surround sound which made the experience surreal, to put it mildly. I remember thinking "Dayum! They don't fuggaround out here!" That day, two gunmen entered that B of A on the corner of Kittridge and Laurel Canyon and attempted to rob it. Unlike the standard "smash and grab," these guys were fully covered in body armor and packing even more heat than the cops themselves -- eventually the first wave of LA's finest who arrived on the scene had to requisition more firepower from a gun shop nearby. The siege went on for hours and my new San Fernando Valley neighborhood had turned into a fuggin' war zone. The newscasters told viewers in the area to remain inside and stay away from windows as bullets were flying everywhere but that didn't stop the newschoppers from circling overhead like man made vultures ( or ghetto birds) skimming the rooftops and palm fronds for the latest breaking episode of televised carnage to feed an unquenchable public's thirst for other people's hurt -- "if it bleeds it leads."


Every since that day in the Valley, whenever I see one of those "Greatest-Most-Wanted-Carchases-while-animals-attack" type shows, I always remember that day in the record store and get mildly repulsed by the people who channel surf for shite like that. As a society, we love it and they know it which speaks volumes about why we get such shitty news reportage these days. In lieu of asking for the dots to be connected on issues like the economy, what's the dealio in Iraq or in depth coverage of the scuttlebut taking place in the back channels of public policy -- the market calls for camera crews to film miles of footage of scofflaws being chased by helicopters instead. Repeat 'n rinse. Granted, the coverage on that February day probably did save lives, I know of at least one -- if I hadn't spent the night over at that chica's house, I would've walked right past that bank at the same time that everything was jumping off -- with headphones on, no doubt -- and somebody might've put a couple of lead pills in me. I'd like to think that that's what they were trying to do but (to put it cynically) more than likely that day's ratings probably held sway over whether those eyes in the sky were reporting anything that needed to be reported on (bonus for them)...


As it turned out, after wounding a couple of civilians and about a dozen cops, firing hundreds of rounds of ammo and swiss cheezing a grip of police cruisers, the felons got away with nothing -- not even their lives -- one took his own life instead of surrendering and the other bled to death from the wounds sustained during the gunfight and rumor had it in the 'hood that they were looking for a third. Although scenes like the one I witnessed in North Hollywood haven't recurred anywhere since, it's not uncommon to see those car chases. Hell, there's half hour prime-time shows dedicated to the "live crime genre," guess the news-copters can't keep up anymore. Whenever I see footage of these mooks who try to outdrive teams of highway patrolmen and helicopters, I can't help but wonder what in the hell are they thinking? It's so tragic that it almost goes back around to being funny...but not quite. Not funny at all. You can try to fight the law but ( just like casinos in Vegas) the law wins. Always. The "double feature" I caught today tells me that things are only going to get worse, " 'cause when you're broke, you break" (to quote Snoop Dogg). In a nutshell we've become inured to seeing this sort of thing on the regular -- we don't even wig out on it anymore and that's some reality TV for your ass. For many, these days, watching would-be Tony Montanas getting "chitty-chitty bang-bang" with the authorities a la Thelma & Louise is the only reason that they'll even tune in to watch the news in the first place and thats scary, yo...Laters...