Chaya Leah Esakhan, Persian-Jewish-American, meets the author of My Single Peeps ... Birding with Xiu Xiu ... How to write an AHF billboard ... ride in a B-24 ...
How a singles column changed a Persian-Jewish girl's life
Two years ago, Seth Menachem told Off-Ramp and Huffington Post readers about his young son Asher's desire to wear female clothes, and his acceptance of it. It was a long and heartfelt piece that was very popular. But for Chaya Leah Esakhan, a young first generation Persian-Jewish-American, it wasn't this serious piece that changed her life, but Seth's lighthearted dating column in the Jewish Journal.
My parents came to L.A. from Shiraz, Iran after the 1979 Iranian Revolution. My father worked two jobs — as a rabbi at a shul, and at a car yard in Anaheim. And my mother worked three jobs — as a nightly mikveh lady, elder caretaker and mother. They always made sure my siblings and I had everything we needed and wanted — toys, games, our favorite treats and, since I loved art, my parents made sure I went to art class every week.
The little English they spoke had a strong fresh-off-the-boat accent, which the class clowns could impeccably impersonate. Their skits baffled me, because my parents were my rock and I was their precious princess. But eventually, the way my classmates made fun of Persian immigrants made me embarrassed by my parents’ struggles. And so, I distanced myself from my inherited culture and I stopped speaking Farsi.
Like many others who fled their homeland, my parents felt most comfortable in their ethnic Persian-Jewish enclave, and the obvious choice for them was to send me to a local religious Jewish girls’ school. I dared not voice my desire for a secular education. I already felt guilty enough for their sacrifices.
But when I received the welcome packet, I cried. The school’s mission was to educate future Jewish mothers. The rules forbade any dress and behavior that could be construed as seductive — even bicycling. It was obvious: We girls were mere baby-making machines. Every two years or so a genetic company would come to our school to collect our DNA for matchmaking purposes. Matchmakers would call the school after graduation or seminary to ask about our prayer habits and modesty. We could wear a little makeup in 12th grade because that’s when we could begin dating for marriage. It was not a school, it was a shadchen — a matchmaker.
I never fit in. Among my non-Orthodox extended family in L.A., my parents’ religious customs were strange. My father had a beard and wore a black hat, and my mother wore a wig and modest clothing. In school, I was also the Other — a dark-skinned Persian among Ashkenazim.
Where did I belong? The answer came in 2008, when I was in 10th grade.
Our curriculum included a current events class. Of course, the L.A. Times, Newsweek and many other secular publications were far too un-kosher to be permissible, so I picked up a copy of the free Jewish Journal to keep myself updated on current events.
Considering that 75 percent of the school day was Torah-based, which you read from right to left, I instinctively started reading the Journal from the back cover. There was a singles column called “My Single Peeps” by Seth Menachem — and the very first article I read was Seth’s hilarious, laugh-out-loud description of the single friends he wanted to set up.
Shmuly is the least typical Chasidic Jew you will ever meet. He will never cut his beard, and he always wears a yarmulke, no matter where he goes, but he will go anywhere. You can find him backstage at a Paul Oakenfold concert, or running in a 5K to cure cancer. He was just asked to be in a Pink music video that would have required him to lie undressed in bed with Pink.
I was riding my bike and my friend Matt pulled up next to me in his car, with Meredith in the passenger seat. He introduced us, and she said, “You’re cute.” I said, “Thanks. I’m married.” With barely a blink, she asked, “Do you have any friends?” I remember thinking, “I’m a man-child doing wheelies on a little BMX bike. What’s wrong with this girl?”
— From Seth Menachem's "My Single Peeps," in the Jewish Journal
Rashi – a medieval French rabbi – says if you want your teaching to be effective, you start with a joke. The humor in Seth’s column opened me up to learning about arts, culture, religion, philosophy, science, history and literature — all covered in the rest of the paper. And as I learned about topics far outside my school’s narrow confines, I gained a strong sense of my intricate identity.
Through Gina Nahai’s poetic descriptions of Iran, pre- and post-Revolution, I became a proud Persian-Jewish woman. I was no longer ashamed of my genes but wore them like the gold bangles on my sleeve.
Through Rob Eshman’s columns mentioning his love of cooking and for his wife, a rabbi, I learned about the fluidity of gender roles, and the possibility of being something other than just a mother. I could do what the guys did.
Other writers helped me develop compassion and camaraderie for those of different — and often marginalized — backgrounds outside my sheltered life, like converts and queer culture.
One week, all the Jewish Journals in my neighborhood were gone. So, I walked 40 minutes to Factor’s Famous Deli to discover some unclaimed Journals that uncovered sexual-abuse scandals in my community. The Jewish Journal’s chutzpah had rubbed off on me.
I learned it did not matter how I prayed or what I wore, because I was a fabulous Jew simply for being one. Mostly though, I developed a more lighthearted, fun and loving relationship with the challenges of dating and marriage. It did not have to be black and white; it could be unconventional — like Seth Menachem’s matchmaking methodology. And so in the Journal, I found a shadchen that, unlike my school, was free-spirited and open.
This is all preamble for what happened the other day, at a rooftop bar near my apartment. It was a beautiful night and my friends and I decided we wanted a group photo beneath the starry sky. I turned to ask a nearby stranger to take it. And like magic, it was Seth Menachem. I was starstruck. There stood the shadchen that changed my life and got me on the very path to the double-date I was on.
With confidence and chutzpah, I pointed my finger straight at his face and said, “I know you. You are Seth.” He was startled by a stranger spotting him. My friends chimed in, asking him who he was and what he does. He was gracious and funny. I just stared at the scene with the biggest smile in the world.
That night, I did not tell him what his column, and the Journal, meant to a very sheltered, searching and mixed-up Persian-Jewish girl, who had her eyes opened to a big and more beautiful world. There really is no telling how one star leads to the next.
Listen to the audio for John Rabe's interview with Chaya and to find out what her parents thought of her article.
Chaya Leah Esakhan is at UCLA, studying physiology and gender studies. She writes and edits at UCLA’s Jewish newsmagazine Ha’Am, where she was just named Rookie of the Year. And in 2017, she will be the first in her family to graduate from a university.
This article appeared in longer form in the Jewish Journal.
Xiu Xiu's Jamie Stewart talks about his 14-year love of birdwatching
The band Xiu Xiu has combined genres like folk, industrial, noise and new wave into an unusual, critically-acclaimed effect since 2002. Their latest record is called Xiu Xiu Plays the Music of Twin Peaks. The title says it all: the group reinterprets the songs from David Lynch’s revered TV show. Here's a song from the new album:
https://soundcloud.com/xiu-xiu-music/into-the-night/
Jamie Stewart fronts the band. When the Los Angeles native isn’t touring, writing or recording, he gets up before dawn to look at the bird life in L.A. On a recent pre-dawn expedition to Pasadena's Eaton Canyon, Stewart went deep about his history with birdwatching.
How long have you been birdwatching?
I started in 2002. My grandpa was... as a child he took me camping all the time but I think I didn't appreciate it very much. And then, in a familial way, I was going through a particularly rough time. My dad had just killed himself and I was having all kinds of personal problems. And then I found a box of my grandpa's old books and there was a birdwatching guide in there.
I think I was just looking to cling to anything that I didn't have to do with something horrible happening and then found a birdwatching guide from like 1952, which I still use pretty regularly.
I remember really clearly the first bird that ever I used a book and identified. I was driving to my mom's. She lived in Sacramento at the time. And I saw a black bird with red tips on its wings. I had the bird guide in my car and I saw these birds and looked at the bird book. It was like "Oh wait, this is what this is for!"
And it was the lowly but beautiful red-winged blackbird. It's currently my ringtone, also, their call.
What's the appeal to you? I have to assume you were in your twenties when you started, right?
Yeah, early twenties. Part of it was, like I said, at the time that I got into it I really needed something to focus on that was inherently without conflict.
Like as a way to process grief?
I think just as a way to think about anything else other than what's going on in my life. Something that at the time I didn't know anything about, so I could really dive into it and focus on it. I think part of why it worked for me at the time is there's something inherently beautiful about doing it. Part of that inherent beauty is that it's fleeting.
It's completely out of your hands. You could go to a place and — if you're lucky — you'll see something that's really remarkable. You can't make it happen. You're either going to be in the right place at the right time you're not going to be.
L.A. County, pound for pound, has more bird species than any other county in the United States. Do you think that rings true?
Well, I mean, it has forest, and desert, and mountains, and the ocean. The desert is probably my favorite place to go birdwatching. My favorite bird of all time and lives in the desert.
What's that?
The goth-like phainopepla. They look kind of like a cardinal, but a little more angular. And a bright red eye. They're totally black.
This is deep birdwatching nerdism: I took a birdwatching trip to Guyana a couple years ago — unfathomably great. But there's this bird called the potoo, it's like this kind of ground bird that usually nests on the ground. They look like something from a Hieronymus Bosch painting. The potoo has a humongous mouth and very small body, almost no neck at all. Anyway, so we're on this river, and it's in the middle of the night and that the guy goes "oh, there's a potoo." And I went "oh my God! Wow!" And he was just like "shut up!"
But, you know, birds are exciting.
For the latest Xiu Xiu record, you guys recorded the music of Twin Peaks. You were commissioned by a museum to do that, right?
Yeah, the Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane. They were doing a David Lynch retrospective of his visual arts, his movies, books and records. They asked us if we would play the music of Twin Peaks over a couple nights. Which is a daunting task, because we're humongous fans. And the music is extraordinarily well known but also extraordinarily beautiful.
In the nascent days of Xiu Xiu, [the songs] were incredibly influential, almost philosophically—just how they how they organize the music and what they were bringing together emotionally.
From a music education standpoint it's been extraordinary. I didn't know, although I'd listened to the music ritualistically forever, I didn't know how brilliantly it was arranged.
What's an example of that?
Probably the most famous song from it, "Falling." That is one of the most iconic melody bass lines that there is. I mean, you just sang two notes and everyone immediately knows what that is. That's part of the brilliance. That line is three notes.
It's two chords, too.
Yeah, you listen to them, and you can't believe that the slightest shift in the harmonics has that much emotionality in it. It's essentially the definition of genius in pop music. That something very simple is that evocative and has that much feeling in it but is almost nothing is happening at all.
You know the opening credits of Twin Peaks has a bird, right?
Yeah, what bird is that?
It's a Bewick's wren.
Oh (laughs). I should have known that!
List of birds seen on our trip to Eaton Canyon:
- California Quail
- California Towhee
- Spotted Towhee
- Nuttall's Woodpecker
- Acorn Woodpecker
- Lesser Goldfinch
- Cooper's Hawk
- Western Scrub Jay
- Bewick's Wren
- Cactus Wren
- Common Raven
- Mourning Dove
- California Thrasher
- Northern Mockingbird
San Pedro Shred and the rebel skate park under the 110
One day each year, the city of San Pedro closes down Gaffey Street to cars and gives it to skaters so they can bomb down the hills (relatively) safely. It began in 2012 after downhill skating became illegal in Los Angeles. At the same time, a guerrilla skate park under the Harbor Freeway was legitimized by the city.
At Badfish Skate Shop, across the street from Peck Skate Park (est. 2014), a group of teenage boys agree that what sets San Pedro’s skate scene apart is “better style” and the city’s “self-made” skate park, Channel Street.
“If you can skate Channel Street, you can pretty much skate anything,” says local pro Ronnie Sandoval, who rides for Krooked and Lakai. Sandoval, 19, was brought up on Channel Street’s tight, challenging ramps, having only been born a few years before the park was created in 2002 by a group of well-meaning outlaws.
The San Pedro Skate Association built the park of their own accord, says member Robbie O’Connell.
“If you’re open-minded, it looks amazing. If you’re somebody who’s used to a lot of flat-bottom, you might wanna pass. It’s awesome, it’s got everything that you want: It’s got steep transition, mellow transition, rollers, it’s got a spine.”
O’Connell’s longtime friend Todd Congelliere (ex-Liberty Skateboards pro) admits, “Truthfully, when they started getting really into it and bringing the rebar and cement trucks and s--- like that, I was just shaking my head going, ‘How are you gonna get away with this?’ and they not only got away with it, they got help from the city and everything.”
In 2012, the park was officially sanctioned and the San Pedro Shred: Festival of Skate was launched, both amid the tragic deaths of two boys, 14 and 15, who died skating in San Pedro. Councilman Joe Buscaino, who represents the 15th District of Los Angeles County, says “in response to that, we felt the need to create an event to allow skaters from all parts of this county, to give them access to a street, shut it down, like we do at the Long Beach Grand Prix. Give them free and safe access to skateboard as long as they want.”
Congelliere is skeptical of the efficacy of the Shred in curbing downhill “bombing,” especially since Channel Street Skate Park has been closed since 2015 for freeway repairs (the 110 stands directly overhead).
“Their whole deal was, this is a safe place to do it, but they’re not gonna shut down the street every day of the year, and people wanna do that every day of the year,” he says.
The Port of Los Angeles controls the land Channel Street Skate Park sits on and won’t reopen it until new handrails are installed that meet inspection standards. Liability insurance also needs to be purchased (price to be determined by the Port). Rubble from the freeway construction still lies in one of the park’s bowls, which skaters enter at their own risk.
The San Pedro Shred: Festival of Skate takes place Sunday, June 5 on Gaffey Street in San Pedro. Rider registration begins at 9:30 a.m. More info on the event's website.
The only person who didn't photograph the Space Shuttle's External Tank last weekend
Off-Ramp is the only radio show with a staff sketch artist. He's Mike Sheehan and this time he reports on ET-94's trip from the South Bay to the California Science Center where, in a few years, it'll be placed upright next to the Space Shuttle Endeavour.
I love drawing in the middle of chaos. I think it’s my version of dancing. In my mind it’s all rhythm and motion and hyper-awareness. From my last experience sketching the Shuttle Parade, nothing is more fun and chaotic than that. Going through my sketchbooks, I remembered I had also sketched the Shuttle Endeavour as it flew over Disneyland.
When I heard ET-94, the fuel tank from the shuttle, would be making its way through the streets of Los Angeles, I was in. These events create a weird magical day where everybody in the city decides to be amazing and nice to each other, like a real-time scene from a musical.
This one was going to be in two parts, ET-94 arriving in the harbor then its drive through the streets of Los Angeles to its new home at the California Science Center.
For its arrival I arrived at Fisherman’s Village in Marina del Rey at around 5 a.m. It wasn’t too crowded. I got to sit in one place and draw, which is nice sometimes. I set up near the news crews since they usually know where the best view is going to be. Helicopters hovered overhead creating a constant roar. ET-94 came into view around 6:30 a.m. It was hard to get a sense of scale when it’s on the barge. The crowd was mellow and small.
When I got to the same spot to see it start its trek Friday night, it was a totally different scene. I got there pretty early, 10 p.m. The streets were already blocked and the crowds were streaming toward the Village.
I parked and walked a mile-and-a-half. Again, there was constant helicopter noise. It had the effect of making the event seem epic and important. I walked up to the tank to AC/DC’s “Shook Me All Night Long” blaring from the California Science Center’s Annual Discovery Ball in a nearby tent.
I started drawing the truck and tank. A French woman walked up and asked if I was a professional; I said yes. Then she proceeded to tell me everything she thought was wrong with my sketch. That was balanced by a fun conversation with an LA Times reporter.
12:08 a.m. and it began its journey. As I was walking alongside it, people showed up in period costume with a New Orleans jazz band from the gala. I walked and sketched the tuba player. My Dad likes tuba. Probably why I honed in on him. (Use the audio player to hear the band.)
I had to walk alongside the band and draw in the dark. I tripped over a few traffic cones. But when am I ever going to draw a tuba player in a New Orleans jazz band while a spaceship's five story tall gas tank looms overhead at one o’clock in the morning?
Never, that’s when.
I followed it through the wee hours of the morning. I hit the wall at about 4 a.m. Stopped at a Denny’s, drank an obscene amount of coffee and went back out. Thankfully, the sun was coming up and it righted my brain.
For all the seeming chaos of these events, this time I really noticed the precision the planners put into this. The quick breakdown of the obstacles in the route and the immediate replacement of all those elements the minute ET-94 rolled through. The traffic cops would show up ahead and prep the area, chat with people and be helpful to people who were chasing this thing across the city.
This time it didn’t do any photo-op stops. It was pretty much always in motion. It moved along at a faster clip than I expected. It stopped at one point for them to trim some branches off a tree. Two women next to me seemed very upset thinking they were going to cut down the whole tree. They didn’t.
At the Forum (more audio!) people were taking pictures with astronauts and police. Someone was blasting music from their car from a playlist that seemed to take a lot of different tastes into consideration, everything from Digital Underground to the Star Wars theme, as we all filed back to our cars. Another weirdly perfect moment.
Because of all the planning and precision, we get to play in the chaos of a big event like this and to be in the moment when the whole city decides to have a great time together.
DIY Film Fest: 6 time-travel flicks you'll go back to (sorry) time after time
Tim Cogshell, film critic for KPCC's Filmweek and Alt Film Guide, has joined Off-Ramp's team of commentators. Cogshell blogs at CinemaInMind.
Off-Ramp has been after me asking me to do another DIY film festival, and I’ve been asked to talk sci-fi flicks with the sci-fi nerds over at the DigiGods podcast. They have a great audience and I know they are going to want to talk time-travel movies. Sci-fi nerds always want to talk time travel movies. So let's kill two birds with one stone.
1. "Looper" (2012)
Let’s start with a modern film that’s fast becoming a cult classic. The nerds love Director Rian Johnson’s 2012 time-travel thriller "Looper," and so do I. It stars Bruce Willis and Joseph Gordon Levitt as the same guy from different moments in time. What I like most about Looper is that it’s a love story wrapped in a thriller hidden in a time-travel movie. And that it’s Johnson’s own original script. He worked it all out beat-by-beat in his head and "Looper" is tight as a drum.
2. "The Butterfly Effect" (2004)
Sci-fi nerds love Ashton Kutcher movies. Plus, it’s a pretty good flick. Like "Looper," "The Butterfly Effect" is actually a love story, this time wrapped in a drama hidden in a time-travel movie. And it almost gets Chaos Theory right. There are several alternate endings for "The Butterfly Effect." All easy to find. Some of them happy.
3. "Time After Time" (1979)
For something vintage I usually go with director Nicholas Meyer’s "Time After Time." Weaving together the Jack the Ripper mystery with an H.G. Wellsian time-travel adventure and a contemporary romance, it's Nick Meyer’s directorial debut. With Malcolm McDowell as H.G. Wells, a pre-"Time Bandits" David Warner as the Ripper, it’s surprising how well this classic straddles time from its settings in 1893 and 1979 right through to the present day. And it will premiere as a series on the ABC television network in the fall. It’s certainly a debut film, but the Nick Meyer who would go on to write and direct the more cerebral "Star Trek" films is definitely in there.
4. "Somewhere in Time" (1980)
I love Jeannot Szwarc’s "Somewhere in Time," a time-travel romance starring a young Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour and a beautiful John Barry score.
5. & 6. "La Jetée" (1962) & "Twelve Monkeys" (1995)
Chris Marker’s "La Jetée" and director Terry Gilliam’s "Twelve Monkeys" are in some ways the same movie at different moments in time. "La Jetee" is a short film constructed almost entirely from black-and-white still photos, voiceover and the atmosphere of time and place.
It’s the specific inspiration for "Twelve Monkeys." Aside from being a flat-out brain freeze of a time-travel movie, it’s a different kind of Terry Gilliam movie – austere, stark and character driven. Plus, the film has Brad Pitt in his first Oscar-nominated performance.
Those of you paying attention will note that both my first and last picks star – yep – Bruce Willis.
OK, I think I’ve got the sci-fi movie nerds covered. Mix and match to build a DYI Time Travel Film Festival of your own. And remember, if you go back in time, don’t change anything!
Louis Zamperini's son flies in an 'Unbroken' B-24 bomber
On May 27, 1943, Louis Zamperini - the Olympian and hero of the movie "Unbroken" - was flying in a B-24 bomber on a mission over the Pacific. The plane had mechanical difficulties and went down about 800 miles south of Oahu. Zamperini was adrift for almost 50 days before he made it to land, where he was captured by the Japanese and held and tortured until the end of the war.
About 19,000 B-24s were built, but only one -- owned by the Collings Foundation -- is still flying, and it's in Southern California as part of the foundation's Wings of Freedom tour. It flew from Santa Barbara to the Western Museum of Flight in Torrance yesterday, with Louie's son Luke Zamperini - and Off-Ramp - aboard.
It was Luke Zamperini's second trip. "I only saw one once before," about 3 years ago, he said. "I took my dad for a visit and he crawled inside the plane and got in the bombardier's seat, and then I followed him through the plane as he starting reliving the battle above Nauru. By the time we got to the back of the airplane, he was exhausted, and he said to me, 'I tell you. In my memory, the plane was larger.'"
(B-24 above Nauru, April 1943. Office of Chief of Military History)
The plane is built for war, not comfort. Equipment is packed into every available space. The windows are tiny, and the gun ports are huge. Oxygen comes from big yellow tanks. The plane's skinny ribs and thin shell are clear to see. "You get in there," Zamperini says." It starts to taxi and you get the idea that you're kind of in this flying jalopy. You just have this wind blowing through the plane, and I suddenly realized what kind of men that generation was to get inside something like this and fly eight or ten hours over the ocean. There's nothing in between you and a bullet except a little tiny bit of aluminum."
The Collings Foundation spent years renovating the plane, now flown by Jim "Pappy" Goolsby, a retired airline pilot who was looking for something to do to keep him busy after he retired. He knows he has a plum job. There aren't many openings to fly B-24s. Of course not; he flies the only one left.
The plane is also the one used by the sound geniuses who worked on "Unbroken" for their Oscar-nominated sound effects. We talked with them on Off-Ramp at Oscar time.
The B-24, as well as a B-17 Flying Fortress, a B-25, and a P-51 Mustang, are all at the Western Museum of Flight in Torrance until Wednesday at noon for tours and rides. The rides are expensive - from $400-$450 per person - but you'll never forget it. "What a gas it was," said Zamperini when we arrived at Zamperini Field in Torrance, named for his dad. "I coulda stayed another couple hours in that thing."