A lovely dark old castle in the hills of Hollywood, overlooking the Hollywood sign and usually some kids throwing rocks at the “H”. The house was built for Boris Karloff, the original Frankenstein actor who apparently had an unusual penchant for collecting stuffed animals for some reason. Therefore, being thoroughly British, I understand this oddity. This love for the inanimate. Upon my first day after closing escrow, I make my way into the basement of this Moorish architectural find, even though it had terrible lighting.
Nearly knocking myself unconscious by the swinging lightbulb, I uncover a treasure-trove of dusty old books. Because most of the books were flagged with bookmarks apparently made up of the skin of snakes and lizards, I pause. Not being swayed one way or another, I decide, in spite of the bad lighting, to at least leaf-through one. After all, the book which caught my still working eye is most fascinating, as well as precipitous indeed.
“Black Magic and Lighting for the Insane” – published in 1754 – is a guidebook for local government, in particular the ordinance of the local constabulary. The police that is. Sicne, I was bemused to the point of completely missing my mid-afternoon tea and scones, I decide to sit back on an old wicker chair and read the most fascinating stories of supernatural intrigue, as they related to 18th Century normal police work.
The lightbulb went out. Because of that, I stumble my way to the staircase and out towards my Uber. I suddenly find myself on Westwood Boulevard, happily discovering a little storefront with the most magical and wondrous lighting I’d ever see in all my lifetimes. Lightwave Lighting. 2335 Westwood Blvd. I find the staff helpful and very knowledgeable. Soon enough, before I knew it, I am back in my dusty old mansion on the hillside, enjoying another Gothic novel, along with a cup of fennel tea. Life is grand, especially in a new light.
Los Angeles, Dec 18, 2016