Striking in Compton
A business trip to Los Angeles
Los Angeles is known for many things: Hollywood, movie stars, great weather, Disney in all its various forms, the massive ports that keep the nation going and the haze that surrounds much of the city. It is a city in a beautiful place that has a not-so beautiful reputation. Personally, I really enjoy LA and all that it offers. It is one of the most diverse cities in the world, with a true mixing of cultures that can be experienced in so many different ways.
My trip this week was quick and had little of what LA is known for. I was down in LA for less than a day for a couple of meetings, with a quick overnight in a hotel before going back to San Francisco and then back home for hopefully a couple of weeks. The slices of LA available at LAX, El Segundo and Compton are a long way from the glitz of Hollywood and the beaches of Santa Monica.
After arriving in LA, I checked into my hotel in El Segundo (near LAX) before heading to my meetings in Compton. That morning, the hotel workers went on strike over labor negotiations. When planning a trip with a client, this is not something that is usually anticipated. I have not previously looked to see the labor negotiation status before booking a room (this may change now).
The picketers were out in force, with union members parading outside the hotel with signs, slogans and drums. So many drums. And whistles. They wanted management to notice, and drums helped get the message across in a way traditional negotiations can’t. So, with the odd drumbeats and shouts, I made my way to my room where I could hear more drumbeats and shouts. It was an awesome time to get work done in the solitude of my room.
When I was in grad school, I was told by several police officers I worked with not to go east of the 110 anywhere south of Exposition Blvd unless I was on a freeway, and to not drive in cars with tinted windows. When my Uber driver pulled up to the client’s facility in an industrial area of Compton, well east of the 110 in tinted windows, he was sure to mention that the neighborhood wasn’t safe. Great tip. He zoomed out of there with the agility of an LA driver on the 405 who sees a gap between cars just ahead. An impressive site. Now I just hoped the client would open the front door quickly, before anyone saw my pasty-white skin, devoid of tattoos, in an area I really didn’t belong. I am about as far removed from Dr. Dre as one can get.
Upon returning to the hotel, the striking workers had moved from the sidewalk outside to the hotel driveway, right in front of the doors banging their drums loudly. Having a meeting in the lobby was out of the question. Fortunately, they were on a schedule and soon moved to the neighboring hotel. I love protesters who keep to a schedule.
The next morning my airport shuttle took off right after I arrived in the lobby, a good eight minutes prior to the posted time. In the rattle of the older minibus converted into the shuttle, the driver was eager to engage in conversation about the last member of the Manson family just getting paroled. I appreciated the friendliness, despite my inability to hear over the din of the bus. It also made for a rather odd discussion about the intricacies of the California penal system – a topic I was less versed in than my driver.
Now this is the Los Angeles I remember.
