El Coyote

Ok - so I drove into Hollywood, parked my car and decided NOT to ride up the six floors on the elevator. Much better to be in a collapsing stairwell than in an elevator should another aftershock occur. There was very little damage where I was but everybody was very quiet. The office phones weren't ringing.

Not usually one for wearing a lot of jewelry, my three jingling charm bracelets made an impression. It was a small office, only three people. The man in charge was an interesting but somewhat sour soul. He was writing his autobiography, entitled "Trapped on a Treadmill".

The Television Code mostly put their "seal" on television commercials out here in Hollywood. Mattel speed racers could only be shown in commercials going as fast as they actually went. No "puffery"...swear to God. There was an office for this kind of stuff and I worked in it.

His name was Frank. He stood out by my desk and said, "what are those bracelets?". I replied "my charm bracelets", and proceeded to type some important memo about a robot whose head really couldn't turn 360 degrees but sounded like it would be in the script he had not yet approved. Again....really!

It was lunch time and he came out and said we were going to El Coyote. Here's the thing. I had never in my life had Mexican food. Just hadn't run across it, even during my tenure on Occidental Boulevard. He said "you'll love it, El Coyote is a legend in this town".

And so it was...but on this "day of the earthquake" it was a quiet legend. Seriously, I had never heard such silence. Everybody spoke in hushed tones and waited for the next aftershock. A pessimist by nature - perhaps you picked that up by his proposed book title - Frank was positive this had merely been the precursor of "The Big One" which was on its' way...soon. Thanks, Frank. Sure am loving this cheese enchilada stuck in my throat. Every time I lifted my arm the bracelets jangled and finally he asked, "what's with the bracelets?". Again, if you're under 50 you will probably not remember that charm bracelets were bracelets with little dangling tokens - charms - commemorating various life events. I'd gotten my first when I was six and every occasion brought a new charm. A new bracelet at 16 and 21. So I had quite a few. The ballerina, the report card with the "?" for conduct among them.

I told him I had no idea what he meant and he replied, "what are you trying to ward off with the charms?". Huh? He had obviously given this a lot of thought and determined the charms were there to ward off evil spirits. We laughed at his misunderstanding and started to leave. My eyes met those of someone standing by the front door waiting for a table.

It was Jake. He started to say something and I looked away. No thanks, pal. Been there...didn't do that.

Maybe there was something to ward off, after all.