Photo Essay: The Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round Celebrates a Stationary Centennial

I didn't get to ride the Griffith Park Park Merry-Go-Round nearly enough when it was running. But now that the 100-year-old Spillman Engineering Corp. ride hasn't been running for four years, I've been desperate to experience it again.

 

Photo Essay: A Rare Pipe Organ Hides Inside a Fake Spanish Village in Santa Barbara

I'm less spontaneous than I used to be. My calendar has gotten more filled with scheduled events, rendering me less likely to wake up and ask myself, "What should I do today?"

But when I saw a last minute notice that the Santa Barbara Theatre Organ Society was having an open console event at the Arlington Theatre in Downtown Santa Barbara last weekend, I knew what I had to do.

 

I don't get to Santa Barbara that often, despite it being only 90 miles north of me, and I hadn't been to any of its historic theatres yet. Besides, we'd been having heat advisories in LA for days—so I was grateful for the cloud cover and cooler temperatures up the coast.

The Arlington is located along the old overland stagecoach route that ran from 1861 to 1901—when the Arlington Hotel stood in this very spot. In 1909, an electrical fire burned the wooden structure down; and in 1911, a newly rebuilt hotel rose in its place. The 1925 Santa Barbara earthquake destroyed the second Arlington Hotel, the remains of which were subsequently razed (along with much of the rest of downtown).

 

The (hopefully quake-proof) Arlington Theatre was built in 1931 for Fox West Coast Theatres—and in those early years, the studio used it to preview its movie releases outside of LA with major test screenings shown here.

 

 

Today, the former Fox Arlington (Metropolitan Theatres took over sometime in the 1950s and bought the building in 1975) operates as a performing arts theatre and first-run cinema...

...showing summer blockbusters like Minions & Monsters and screening selections for the Santa Barbara International Film Festival.

 

It no longer has official ties with the Fox studio, but you can still find a few "F" letters around.

 

Like the Egyptian and the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, the Arlington has a large forecourt...

 

...but this Paseo is a covered courtyard lobby, replete with soaring Spanish arches and a prototypically Spanish tiled fountain in the center.

It's sometimes attributed to the Mission Revival style of architecture, but it's really a Spanish atmospheric fantasy—evoking less of the California Missions and more of a village in Andalusia. (Spanish Colonial Revival is sometimes used interchangeably with Mission Revival, but in this case I think it's the more accurate term. A 1932 article in Motion Picture Herald called it "truly Spanish.")

 

 

But the architectural team of Edwards and Plunkett included a bit of that Rancho Period nostalgia so associated with Santa Barbara, too—including a mural at the entrance loggia, with traditional Spanish dancers as depicted by artist Samuel Armstrong.

 

It had taken me two hours to drive there from Beverly Hills, so of course I was running late and showed up with only 30 minutes left to the open house.

 

I scrambled to the front of the auditorium, barely noticing that the side walls were formed by three-dimensional Spanish village buildings—roofs, balconies, windows, and all.

 

Photo: Mike Hume's Historic Theatre Photography (used with permission)

Reportedly the lighting fixtures were painstakingly replicated from measurements of Catalonian street lamps of the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries. 

 

I made a beeline to the organist, who was playing a circa 1928 "Wonder Morton" theatre organ (not a Wurlitzer) from the organ lift located in the center of the curved orchestra pit. It's one of only five of its kind manufactured by Robert-Morton of Van Nuys, California—that is, before the company went out of business in 1931. Because it's an organ meant to accompany silent films, it has some fun practical sound effects like a police whistle, birds chirping, horse hoofs, and an airplane motor.

Originally built for and installed in Loew's Jersey Theatre in Jersey City, New Jersey, it was moved into storage in Dallas in 1977 and brought to Santa Barbara in 1986, when the Santa Barbara Theatre Organ Society lovingly restored it to as-new condition.

 

 

As it was built nearly 100 years ago, it had four keyboards (4-manual) and 24 ranks (individual sets of wind-blown pipes sharing the same tone, like trumpet or some other horn)—but sometime since, it's been expanded to 27 ranks of about 2000 pipes. 

 

This, like many theater organs, is electro-pneumatic—meaning all the pipes (both metal and wooden) and other instruments (including some actual drums and bells) are all air-operated by air valves that are controlled via electrical wires.

Photo: Mike Hume's Historic Theatre Photography (used with permission)

An impromptu tour took us through the pipe chamber at stage right—but there was so much more to behold. My guide could sense my enthusiasm—and since he could tell that I like history, he walked me through the lobby, under those handmade Catalonian chandeliers hanging from a vaulted ceiling, and headed upstairs yet another way. 

 

Although the upstairs is officially closed (reportedly they don't use it anymore), we climbed the balcony stairs, admiring the ironwork handrails...

...and glazed Tunisian tiles (as were common at the time at such Santa Barbara locales as Casa del Herrero and the Santa Barbara Courthouse)...

 

 

...until we reached the projection room. 

Because the theatre still occasionally screens 35mm film, it's got a Strong International Ultra 80 projector with a platter system in addition to its digital projection equipment. 

 

 

It's also got a couple of antiques tucked away up there, including a Brenkert Master Brenograph projector of special lighting effects, once adding to the atmospheric ambiance of the Andalusian village below. 

 

Those 35mm platters were pretty heavy, so the theater used to employ the help of a dumbwaiter (no longer in use, but the shaft is still there). 

Among the other areas that are now off-limits to the public are a patio that overlooks the city towards the mountains, reportedly once used by celebrities attending their big Hollywood screenings as nightclub or speakeasy. 

 

They could watch their movies (and observe audience reactions) from a private balcony up there...

...but now it's just used for the back-of-house spotlight. 

 

 

There were so many things to see in such little time, but I delighted at every little detail I could soak in, from the red plastic marquee letters...

 

...to the blower that puffs the wind that makes the pipes sing...

...the bottom of the bell tower that never housed any bells (but used to sport a neon sign that spelled F-O-X)...

    

Photo: Mike Hume's Historic Theatre Photography (used with permission)

...and the attic above where the ceiling used to twinkle. 

There's so much more to say about this theatre, and my visit was by no means comprehensive, but I do think I crammed in a lot in less than an hour—and much more than I ever expected.

For a much more exhaustive exploration, check out my friend Mike Hume's Historic Theatre Photography blog. (And thanks to Mike for letting me share some of his photos on this post, which are credited to him above.)

Related Posts:

Photo Essay: How Disney Turned a 1920s Hollywood Playhouse Into a Spectacular Movie Palace [Updated for 2026]

Photo Essay: The World's Largest Outdoor Pipe Organ

Photo Essay: Paramount Iceland, Home of the Zamboni (Updated for 2022)

Photo Essay: John Lautner's Salkin House Emerges From the Lost and Found [Updated]

[Last updated 1/24/25 8:45 PM PT—Made some corrections based on an email from the real estate agent behind the 2014 sale—Steven Gutierrez-Kovner, who also grew up in the home—and a photo received from a friend who visited the home during its pre-2014 ownership.]

Back in October, I heard about an opportunity to visit a "Lost Lautner"—that is, a house designed by architect John Lautner that was missing from the official record of his works. 

circa April 2009, via Google Street View

It was the Salkin House, located on Avon Terrace and tucked into the crook of the neck of upper Elysian Park. Completed in 1948, somehow it had disappeared from public memory for decades—until it was "discovered" again in 2014, when it hit the market for the first time basically ever, confirming the rumors of its existence to be true. 

 

circa March 2018, via Google Street View

Fashion designer Trina Turk and her (now late) husband Jonathan Skow purchased it for $1.2 million (with the adjacent lot, $1.5 million) and embarked on a preservation-minded restoration. They secured its designation as a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument in 2016.

Top Posts of 2025

Boy, it's been a rough year. Between writing my first book, struggling to manage my celiac disease, and losing my sense of smell and trying to conquer long Covid—all with no health insurance—it's been a lot. 

I tend to thrive in chaos, but at some point I just shut down. And that's what happened after I finished writing my manuscript (while I was sick with Covid, might I add). I just couldn't do anything else.

I've slowly tried to put my apartment back together after two years of neglect. I cleaned under the bed (where my cat hides and sometimes pukes) for the first time in I don't know how long. I still have to change my windshield wipers and put a cover on my car backseat and figure out why my turntable doesn't work and sand down my built-in cutting board. 

Oh and now that I'm 50, I've got to get a pneumonia vaccine and a mammogram. And a follow-up colonoscopy. 

And a permanent job that provides benefits.

With all of this going on, I've managed to blog a little this year—much less than I'd like, and much less than what I have to blog about. Funnily enough, this year also brought some of the highest traffic I've ever had—and, for the first time, to posts that aren't solely about Southern California. 

It's nice to see my Nevada and Northern California posts getting some well-deserved attention!

In case you missed any of them, here are my top posts of 2025—featuring a little architecture, a lot of adventure, and a bit of personal sadness, too.

1. Photo Essay: Wallace Neff's Once-Affordable Bubble House Hits An Inflated Real Estate Market

 

Photo Essay: Disney Imagineers Are Building a Town Near Palm Springs, Called Cotino

To be honest, I signed up for a tour of Cotino—"A Storyliving by Disney™ Community"—in Rancho Mirage, California during this year's Modernism Week because it was free.

 

 

It wasn't until I got to its sales office that I realized they might actually try to sell me one of the homes where "the Disney touch is at the heart of it all."

Photo Essay: 85 Years of The Walt Disney Studios in Burbank

There are five main movie production studios in Los Angeles, and only four of them give studio tours: Warner Brothers, Paramount, Sony, and Universal. I'd visited them all (plus some smaller ones like the Fox lot, which didn't allow photos) except one—and the one holdout was the one that provides extremely limited public access.

Walt Disney Studios in Burbank. 

Photo Essay: A Louisiana Bayou Boat Ride, No Gators in Sight

I couldn't imagine going to New Orleans for the first time and not taking a swamp tour.

Even though it had snowed 10 inches just three days before I arrived. Even though it was winter and it would be too cold for the alligators to be out in the water. (Instead, they're burrowing in some mud somewhere for heat.)

Fortunately, I was traveling with a group who wanted to do the same.
 

Photo Essay: Getting My Horse On In Preparation for the Rose Parade, 2025

It had been 10 years since I'd attended Equestfest, the Tournament of Roses equine exhibition, in the days before the Rose Parade. And this year I found myself revisiting a few things that I hadn't done for a decade. 

 

So I decided to go back. After all, I enjoy a day out with the horses.

Photo Essay: 101 Years of the Anaheim Fall Festival (Upon the Centennial of the Halloween Parade)

The last Saturday in October is always a busy one—and try as I might, I never seem to make it to the Anaheim Fall Festival, which always lands on that day. 

 

This year, on the 100th year of the parade (but the 101st year of the festival), I finally made it—casting all other plans aside, because you just can't do everything you want to do all the time. 

A Last Look at the Historic Charlie Chaplin Studios Lot (Before The Jim Henson Company Sells It) [Updated for 2026]

[Last updated 1/25/26 11:24 PM PT—Singer John Mayer and director McG purchased the property and are in the process of converting it into multipurpose studios. "The Jim Henson Company" name has been removed from the entrance archway, and the Kermit statue has been donated to the Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta. A new photo has been added to the bottom of this post.]

Let's just get this out of the way: The Henson Studios lot on La Brea in Hollywood is for sale. The Wrap broke the news in late June.

circa 2020

And although I'd been able to walk around on my own once before, as a ticketholder for the puppet improv show Puppet Up!—Uncensored that's performed on the lot, word of the sale was enough to light a fire under me to go back and finally take an official tour.  

Photo Essay: A Triple Train Tour Through Santa Margarita Ranch, via Pacific Coast Railroad

Last Christmas, I finally got the chance to ride in one of the original Disneyland Railroad cars that are now running on a private railway, the Pacific Coast Railroad, in Santa Margarita, California. 

But because it was a nighttime holiday lights ride, I felt like I hadn't gotten the full experience. 

So I immediately committed myself to coming back and riding the rails on Santa Margarita Ranch during the day. 

Only problem? There's once a year the public can do that: Memorial Day weekend, during the Best of the West Antique Equipment Show. (Otherwise some lucky few get to ride the trains during private events like weddings and such.) 

 

 

So, this year I finally hauled my cookies up to the Central Coast to ride the trains—all the trains they offered that weekend, which was three. 

Photo Essay: The Future Becomes Retro at Howard Johnson Anaheim

I've often thought about spending the night in Anaheim, California so I can take advantage of one of those three-day ticket deals at Disneyland. Since my annual pass expired in 2016, I think I've only gotten to go twice.

So far, I've taken a tour of the Grand Californian, and I've skulked around the Disneyland Hotel. I've gawked at the Alpine Inn and the Camelot Inn as I've driven past them.

 

But I had no idea Anaheim had such a mid-century masterpiece as the William L. Pereira-designed Howard Johnson's, just steps away from Disneyland.

And now there's something even more spectacular about it: They created a suite that's somewhat of a recreation (more of a transcreation) of the short-lived Monsanto House of the Future walk-through attraction from Disneyland's Tomorrowland, circa 1957 to 1967. 

The Crest Has Transformed Into UCLA's New Nimoy Theater, With 1980s Art Deco Elements Preserved

I don't remember why I never saw a movie at the Crest Theatre in Westwood, Los Angeles before it closed for good in 2016. To be honest, I don't really remember it being open or having heard about it hosting any screenings.

 circa 2022

I only really took notice of it when it was closed, and then upon the announcement that UCLA was converting it into the "Nimoy Theater" (named after Star Trek actor Leonard Nimoy) for live shows presented by the Center for the Art of Performance. At which point, I became desperate to get in. 

Photo Essay: LA Gets Three New Subway Stations (And An Alphabet Soup of Train Lines)

Yes, Los Angeles has a subway. And it's growing.

The above-ground Expo Line—much of which was built along an old Pacific Electric right-of-way—became the "Subway to the Sea" when it fully opened between Culver City and Santa Monica in 2016. (It's now, however, called the E line.)

The Purple Line Extension will put a subway station about a mile and a half away from where I live sometime in the next three or four years. (The Purple Line has also been renamed the D Line but I haven't fully committed to calling the lines by their letters instead of their colors yet.)

Until then, if I want to ride the subway, I've got to make a special trip.

 

Last weekend, I trekked downtown just to check out three just-opened subway stations that comprise  the Metro Regional Connector project—which allows seamless transit from Long Beach to Azusa and Santa Monica to East Los Angeles along the A and E lines. 

Photo Essay: How Disney Turned a 1920s Hollywood Playhouse Into a Spectacular Movie Palace [Updated for 2026]

[Last updated 6/7/26 2:33 PM PT—Added new photos and details about the centennial celebration and the newly-refreshed curtain show.]

I remember early in my days of living in NYC, I'd hear complaints about the "Disneyfication" of Times Square—and, specifically, 42nd Street, where Disney had purchased and rehabbed the New Amsterdam Theatre to become the home of its Broadway stage version of The Lion King. 

From a business perspective, Disney brought a lot to that area of New York. 

circa 2019

And in LA, we've had a little "Disneyfication" of our own—right on Hollywood Boulevard.

Year In Review: 2022 Updates to Past Posts

I wish that all this blog was for was to brag about cool stuff I do. 

But I sense a greater purpose in my documenting these places and experiences. It all feels like they'll be gone one day. 

And I feel a duty to report back when they unfortunately do go away. 

It happens more and more every year. 

But thank goodness it's not all bad news. Because sometimes I get to update on a historic place being saved from demolition, rehabilitated, or even reopened. 

I think it's important to keep these entries current with the present condition of the places I've visited. That means sometimes I have to keep going back to check on them. Or to say goodbye. And then share what I've seen (or what can no longer be seen).

So, for the third year in a row, here's a recap of all the updates I made to my Avoiding Regret entries from SoCal and Vegas over the last year—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the complicated.

Closures/Losses/Deaths/Preservation Threats

 

1. Photo Essay: The Cloistered Nuns of Hollywood and Their Stately Home (Closed—Updated for 2022)

2. Adventures on Pico: From a Chili Bowl to An Oil Well (Updated for 2022)

Photo Essay: Golf Carts on Parade in Palm Desert, Rolling Out of a Pandemic Hiatus

When I was researching golf carts for my post on the golf cart museum in La Quinta, California earlier this year, I came across some information about an annual golf cart parade that takes place just before Halloween in the nearby community of Palm Desert, also in the Coachella Valley. 

I knew I had to go.  

Photo Essay: Monte Carlo Deli & Pinocchio Restaurant, A Red-Sauce Reverie Inspired By A Fairy-Tale Boy Puppet

Walt Disney once considered building Disneyland in Burbank, California instead of Anaheim—on the lot that now houses Walt Disney Animation Studios and ABC, across from Walt Disney Studios. 

But today, the only place in Burbank where the public can get a taste of Disney—since there's no studio tour offered—is at the Monte Carlo Deli and Pinocchio Restaurant on Magnolia Boulevard, in Magnolia Park.