A Dream Job... Deferred?

My professional life has experienced a lot of upheaval since I was forced to quit my job back in 2009. And I still haven't gotten back on my feet again.

It really feels like the guy that made it impossible for me to stay in that job back then didn't just destroy my career. He also ruined my life. 

But that's another story for another day. 

Photo by matthiasboeckel on Pixabay

I'd been so proud of myself when I got a full-time editorial job back in 2015 after being destitute in the wake of two layoffs and some poor career choices that led me astray. I was even more thrilled in 2018 to be able to say I was finally a full-time writer.

Then I got laid off from that job in July 2022—that's a whole 'nother story, too—and, lucky for me, the freelance writing I'd been doing for our local public TV station KCET for over seven years turned into an inhouse gig just two weeks later. 

Photo Essay: L.A.'s Beaux Arts Library, Built of Bricks and Funded By a Copper Fortune

The William Andrews Clark Memorial Library in the West Adams neighborhood of Los Angeles was one of those places I didn't know I wanted to go to until it was closed and I couldn't go. 

I think I first heard about it when it was undergoing a restoration (and earthquake retrofitting), sometime between 2015 and 2017. I kept my eye on it—and finally managed to take a tour in 2018. 

L-R Observatory, library (Photo: Security Pacific National Bank Collection, via LAPL)

A Pandemic Valentine

Ever since the first shutdown was looming back in March 2020, I've been desperate to "get back in the game."

Not necessarily the dating game, or the relationship game, but just "the game"—to be among the other living, breathing human beings who desire and are desired. 

Pandemic Amusements: Happiness Is A Warm Candy Cane

In 1933, Frances Logan and Charles (Pop) Logan founded their own eponymous candy shop at 216 N. Euclid Avenue in Ontario, California. 

Once called Logan's Candy but now known as Logan's Candies, it's best known for its Christmas candy canes—but it also caused a stir for going "Dodger Blue" last year upon our hometown team's World Series win. 

And second only to the Christmas season is Valentine's Day, when the shop breaks out the cinnamon striped candy canes.  

 

It's a Holiday Dino Dress-Up at Cabazon Dinosaurs

Back in November, the larger-than-life biomorphic buildings known as the Cabazon Dinosaurs were kicked up a notch by being painted in Christmas colors—green for Dinney, the 150-foot-long Apatosaurus/Brontosaurus, and a Santa suit for Mr. Rex, the three-story concrete Tyrannosaurus rex. 

 

I didn't think it could get any better than that—but much to my delight, they've now been repainted once again. 

Photo Essay: Santa Barbara's Spanish Castle of Courts (And Its Ever-Ticking Clock)

I've had no official reason to visit the Santa Barbara County Courthouse, as I'm not a constituent of the county and haven't broken any laws therein.



I haven't even gotten the chance to get married there, though one of my ex-lovers has. I must admit, his heartbreaking nuptials piqued my interest about the place.



So, on two different occasions when I had some free time on my own to explore the historic core of the city of Santa Barbara, I chose to visit the 1929 Spanish Colonial Revival courthouse.*



Mostly, I went back a second time not to torture myself more—but to get into the clock tower, which was closed for visitors my first time around.



Under that red terra cotta tile roof—and beyond its white stucco walls and window grilles—there are the day-to-day operations of the Santa Barbara Courts and Public Administration.



But visitors like me want to see the structure itself—a national landmark that took only three years to build, starting in 1926.



Originally designed by Paris-trained architect William Mooser III, the courthouse as-built was reportedly more the result of modifications made by architect J. Wilmer Hershey. Unfortunately, Hershey died before he could see his work come to completion.

The Spirit of the Ocean fountain, by the Anacapa Arch

Finished at a cost of nearly $1.4 million, the courthouse was funded by oil tax revenue that had come in from the 1928 oil strike at Ellwood. And it's a good thing, too—because the courthouse was dedicated just two months before the 1929 stock market crash that kicked off the Great Depression. 

It could've been even more expensive, too—but using some local materials, like sandstone, helped defray some costs.



And while it's only three stories tall, it's actually an L-shaped amalgamation of four separate buildings, connected by arches, bridges, or breezeways.



In addition to the Superior Court proceedings, the Santa Barbara courthouse also handles small claims, civil, and criminal cases (including traffic court), as well as family law, juvenile court, probate, and appeals.



It no longer, however, houses prisoners in its "Jail Wing."

circa 2016

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There are other county courthouses in Lompoc, Santa Maria, and Solvang—but as the City of Santa Barbara is the county seat of Santa Barbara County, this one is the flagship of the county's court system.



On the second floor, the former County Board of Supervisors' assembly room is now the Mural Room—featuring a 4200-square-foot mural depicting Early California (at least, the Spanish colonial period,  starting in 1542). Daniel Sayre Groesbeck hand-painted it in just four months. 

circa 2016

That's where the docent-led tours start—and that's where lots of people get married, right there under the wrought-iron chandeliers and 30-foot coffered ceilings, in front of depictions of explorers and conquistadors like Cabrillo and Vizcaíno and Frémont. 

When Mooser was working on the architectural plans for the courthouse, he considered this a kind of "throne room"—reinforcing the sense that you're in an Andalusian castle.



Hand-made terra cotta floor tiles throughout the building were made by Gladding McBean...



...and the feeling of "Old Spain" has been preserved inside and out, despite multiple renovations (including some ADA improvements).



Adding to the romance of the structure—or, I suppose, its romanticized representation of Santa Barbara's founding—is the 85-foot-tall clock tower and "El Mirador" observation deck.



Up there, the Spanish fortress opens up a little bit.



The Seth Thomas mechanized clock is still ticking—and there's an entire gallery devoted to its inner workings.



Too bad they don't let you have weddings up there. That's where you've got the best view—and where you can see how the courthouse occupies an entire city block. Seems like a good spot to exchange vows.

Most public festivities take place in the Sunken Garden—where the original 1872 courthouse stood until it was destroyed in a 6.3 earthquake in 1925. Hopefully its replacement has received all the seismic retrofitting necessary to survive the next "big one" that's sure to come.

Modern engineering has figured out ways to keep a building from crumbling under massive shaking.

But modern medicine hasn't yet figured out how to keep a heart from breaking—or how to put a broken heart back together.

*all photos circa 2017 except where noted

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: The Gardens of the Blacksmith (Los Jardines del Herrero), A Slice of Spain Outside of Santa Barbara
Photo Essay: The View from Above Balboa Park's Former Expo Grounds

Seed Dispersal and The Fallacy of Wish-Making

Sometimes, you get an email inviting you to something, but without saying what it is.



Sometimes, you go, and it's a bust.



Other times you end up at the circa 1923 Southern California Edison Laguna Bell Substation in the City of Commerce for adventures in wish fulfillment.



I'm a skeptic when it comes to immersive theater and interactive art. But I'll take any excuse to enter an otherwise verboten power plant.



Even if I might get electrocuted along the way.



I had no preconceptions of what I would see inside...



...only that the installation was called "Dandelions."



And appropriately, those were the first thing I saw.



Dandelions were a common occurrence on my childhood lawn, as they were, I'm sure, on many others.



I'd pluck those little puffballs, make a wish, and blow—but as far as I could tell, the wishes never came true.



I always wondered if I was wishing for the wrong thing.



But if I wished for something easier or more likely, what's the point of magical thinking? In all practicality, wouldn't I be able to just make it happen?



Well, I gave up wishing long ago and became a woman of action—doing rather than tossing pennies into fountains or searching the night sky for shooting stars. I step on every crack and went ahead and adopted myself a black cat.

But for the sake of "Dandelions," I came up with a wish—this time, one that wasn't for me, but for somebody else.



I got funneled through the distribution center of wish fulfillment...



...getting my own stemless puffball...



...to blow into the hole my wish had been assigned to.



The computer had told me my wish was a long shot. But, as one of the "staff" pointed out, all wishes were valid.



It appeared as though the blown-apart seeds actually got pumped or blown by pneumatic tubes into a machine room...



...but we were routed elsewhere...



...to a room where it seemed like the slightest thing could sabotage your wish.



And because pretty much all wishes are the same—money, love, health, success—it would be easy enough to ruin somebody else's wish, too.



But a wish can't come true if the dandelion pouf stays intact.



The seeds have to break off and disperse, one by one.



You have to blow hard, because some of those seeds have to travel pretty far in order to make your wish come true.



And the flower has to die in the process.



Some of the seeds never made it past the window.



A few clung to its edges in a final stand of civil disobedience.



We couldn't stay and wait to see what would happen to them. We had to leave before our wishes could be fulfilled.



After all, some of them are completely out of our control anyway.



And my wish was for somebody who wasn't even there. I sure hope my wish fulfillment track record improves now that the focus is off of me.

Because sometimes you have to give up on the wish that just won't come true. And you have to shift your focus to one that might.

But you can still have hope...

Related Posts:
A Missed Calling
On Settling
Getting In Touch With My Inner Sixth Grader