Last week we traipsed off to LA-LA Land, because Mary was feeling a little lightheaded from all the fresh air and sunshine here in Colorado. Even after several years away, she still distrusts air that she can’t actually see. And the whole fresh air thing in her mind is vastly overrated when the temperature is running in single digits. So balmy temperatures and crunchy air it would be!
Ostensibly, the visit to LA was to attend a retro tour of the downtown LA area by Charles Phoenix, a moniker which, by the way, is too cool for school. If I ever wanted to change my name, I’d like to be able to pick something equally as awesome, like Zimbabwe Jim. Just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Sure, I’ve never been to Zimbabwe and there’s no discernible reason why I would go by the name of Jim, but it just exudes coolitude. Sounds like a guy who runs a bar in Mombasa, another place I’ve never been. Nor ever want to visit. But, moving on….
Anyway, part of the tour, which I will touch on a little later, included a visit to Chinatown. And an egg roll from Hop Louie’s, which has been around, apparently, for longer than a lot of things, including me.
So while we were munching on the deep fried goodness, or badness, depending on your point of view and cholesterol count, we encountered this picture on the wall.
We’ve now run across Picture Bill in at least half a dozen restaurants around the world, and we weren’t even looking. How many places can one man possibly have eaten? It’s now going to my mission in life to find and take pictures of every place old Bill popped into for a quick pizza or burger or egg roll or pig’s knuckle.