CSI Venice

I often forget how, not so long ago, Venice, California wasn't exactly the peach of real estate. With a long history of gang violence and drugs, the area was only recently (and continues to be) an area of "transition" (this means - rich people buy up all the land and rebuild their $2 million homes next to a crack house and raise the real estate prices to a universe that I can not afford - this includes the crack house).

Anywho, I've never felt scared or hesitant to walk around my neighborhood alone - day or night. For the most part, my friendly "mobile neighbors" keep an eye out for me. If anyone tries to mess with me they run them over with their shopping cart.

But last night I was treated to some old school Venice action. It's called a gang shootout. Now the kicker is, I didn't even know what was happening until I left the house to go to dinner and there were SWAT trucks, at least 50 LAPD/FBI/DEA cars/trucks/K9s and crime scene tape EVERYWHERE ("Weird," I thought, "How did I manage to miss this?"). I also didn't know that the crime scene tape prevented me from walking across the street to get out of my house until a friendly officer gave me a gentle reminder that "what the hell did I think I was doing" was not correct. The tape is there for everyone. Even the people just trying to get to dinner. I couldn't quite figure out why the tape was in front of my house when the "incident" was a block down the street. But, apparently, they have reasons to what they do and I don't need to understand. I just need to get my "skinny little ass" back into my house....and starve, apparently.

But I couldn't do that. Now I had to know what happened because inquiring minds want to know why I can't go to dinner and why the ghetto bird is making my dog bark incessantly.

So I thought the best thing to do is sneak out and go harass the local media. They always know. They have police scanners and stuff. So I went up to a gentleman who seemed pleasant and was just standing there holding a camera. He didn't look engaged or busy, so approaching him seemed to be a logical move. Unfortunately for me, he had other ideas. He followed the nice policeman's lead and told me in as crude and crass means as possible to dismiss myself from his presence. I replied with two words that were not "Hello cameraman" and a gentle hand signal. Fight fire with fire.

Next option was to ask the mobile neighbors (mb's) if they were abreast of the situation. One lady told me that Iraq was attacking the 700 block of Rose (because God knows that's strategic brilliance), another mb let me know that I was a pretty lady and needed to do something to him (ewe), a third mb just stared at me, and FINALLY I found the mb with the ins. Gang shooting. Or a hostage situation. OR a riot. Wow. That was helpful.

My final option was to ask the original friendly officer as "head of my neighborhood watch organization" I needed to know what to tell "my people". Again, he reminded me that if I didn't get back in my house that I was going to take a nap in the back of his squad car. Fine. I took the hint.

Bottom line? I never found out what it was. The whole procession lasted for a solid three hours. But the most bizarre thing is there was ZERO information on the news, internet, newspaper today. It was as if it never happened. Can you smell cover up? Conspiracy? Spaceship crash? I do and I will not rest until I find out why yellow tape was hanging from my gate. This is my promise to you. (But it won't be tonight because I have places to go and people to see.)