In Bologna, Italy in 1839, decorative artist Antonio Basoli published a fantastic set of lithographs for his book, Alfabeto Pittorico (Pictorial Alphabet, or a collection of pictorial thoughts composed of objects beginning with the individual letters of the alphabet). His elaborate architectural drawings of twenty-four letters of the alphabet and one ampersand , became later known as Basoli’s Alphabet.
By Anita MacCallum
Some of my favorite thoughts I had back a couple Septembers ago after attending Givin’s ‘Too’ premiere in Laguna Beach, CA … which got lost in the dizzy roads of my laptop’s brain.
It’s about that time of year again, when Southern Californians are victims of that end of summer, scorching-hot sun causing us to wonder when the wait for the cool autumn winds will finally come to an end. The movie premiers and trailers for the season’s new films are nothing but atease to us storm chasers. Sitting inside of a poorly vented theater reeking of pot, surrounded by some of the world’s best riders, is a dream to some people. However, for me, it was as if my mother were to display the most delectable desserts that I could ever fathom right before me. The desserts, complete with a stack of porcelain plates along with the finest silverware I have ever set my eyes on, just waiting for me to finally get my dirty little fingers on the serving spoons moments before delightfully devouring my way to obesity. But no, instead she forces me to sit and watch every filthy little adolescent get served spoonfuls of mouthwatering ice cream with the richest chocolate cakes imaginable as I watch anxiously, wide-eyed and wistful.
It was a warm summer night when I wandered my way down the sidewalk along the South Coast Highway towards the Laguna Regency Theater. The warm ocean breeze tossed through my hair as the sky grew to a rich velvety blue. As I drew closer to the theater, I noticed a rather large group of ruffians causing a scene while taking their sweet ass time crossing the street. The headlights of the aligned BMW and Range Rovers casted shadows just along the other side of the hooligans. I recognized a couple of the guys and knew exactly where they were headed. With about a hundred yards distance between us, I followed them to a much larger crowd that surrounded the entrance of the theater. It was a complete circus. The girls, well… most of them, were fresh-faced and beautiful, the others carried the still-rockin-my-bed-head look. Most of the guys weren’t far from that either. I found myself lost in a crowd of mixed hippies… both trendy and true.
As the doors opened and the cluster of clowns made their way in, each butt searched to find it’s destined seat to match it. My toosh selected a seat between a red curtained-wall and a coworker and directly behind Mark McMorris. The lights dimmed and the crowd grew wild. Gazing up at the screen through my tortise-shell rimmed glasses, I took in every sense; the sound of cackling coyotes, my skin growing warm and sticky due to the theater’s humidity, the itch of the old theater seats, clouds of smoke from the toking reefers near the screen, and the bitter sweet taste of how close we were to drowning in happiness of season’s first snowfall.
When the film started… I could barely take my eyes off the screen; with a raw opening scene full of crashes and yard sales, I knew I was in for a delightful treat. The rest of the film followed as expected: rad, bangin’ and totally awesome… as Spicoli would say.
Leaving the theater, I was more than anxious to skip the next couple months and head straight to the freedom of freezing pow days and long rowdy nights. On my way back to the car, I was lucky enough to be on the street-side of the sidewalk and caught the wind of a passing by bus which resulted in my dress party-rockin and my booty shinin’ a full moon. It was going to be a long night, traveling from Laguna back home to Encinitas… only to meet up with the second half of my hooligan friends.
And as I had expected… it was exactly that.