I facetiously hooted the same words when a nephew and a niece said they would take Tony and me to Hollywood. Bong was our patient driver and OD was our tour guide-cum-photographer. We’ve been to LA a few times, but never downtown.
Hollywood did not disappoint.
Like true-blue tourists, we set foot on the Walk of Fame and gawked at enterprising people costumed as super-heroes posing for a few bucks with adventurous tourists. Fortunately, we are classified under non-adventurous.
The first thing I did was take a shot of my foot on Ryan Seacrest’s star—the guy whose ears hear “I am going to Hollywood” first-hand, and took shots of landmark theaters like Grauman’s Chinese Theater, El Capitan, Dolby—the works. And to cap the tour, we were taken to the West Griffith Observatory where we had our must-have shot with the Hollywood sign as background (above).
Both Bong and OD urged us to walk here and there, see this and that, but Tony’s knees and fractured wrist, plus my grasping toes and spine, aggravated by the freezing temperature, demurred. Let’s just say, it was a geriatric tour, albeit a magnificent one.
Then, like additional manna from heaven, a few more cousins, nieces, and nephews happened to be in downtown LA, too. They invited us to dinner at—one guess—Chinatown.
In all, grace, marvelous grace, took us to Hollywood. But beyond that, it enabled us to bond with dearest kin we rarely see. I sang all the way home.
“I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.” Psalm 69:30
No comments:
Post a Comment