Pink Saturday - Beverly, at the blog "How Sweet the Sound" hosts Pink Saturday. Let the color pink inspire you!
Ventura Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley is an eighteen mile stretch of commerce. There are strip malls, Gallerias, tall glass towers, gas stations, nurseries, and supermarkets. There are so many businesses that sell the same kind of things, people will do anything to stand out and get noticed. The Valley is full of weird buildings - shaped like Donuts, sporting giant statues, shaped like chateaux or Chinese temples or giant honeycombs.
This building, at 19611 Ventura Boulevard, is designed to look like the front grille of a 1971 Cadillac Fleetwood. Its origins are unknown, lost in the mists of history - at least, the forty or so years that means ancient history in Los Angeles. I would love to know what inspired it. Was there originally a car dealership here? Did the architect drive a Caddy? Or was it simply an homage to the mystique of the Cadillac image, prestige, and power?
According to its sign, it's called Fleetwood Square, and other than its crazy look, it's just like any other strip mall in the Valley. There's a couple clothing shops, a medical office, and a salon and nail shop. There's a nail shop in every strip mall in the Valley. We stopped by and I took a few photos. Then we got back in the car and continued on our way.
And then it happened. As we passed the parking lot just beyond Fleetwood Square, a gleaming hot-pink Fleetwood Convertible pulled into the boulevard behind us.
It was a mile long, it was wide, and it glided down the road, the hot California sun shimmering on its sleek flank. I don't know my Cadillacs, but I think it was a 1975 Fleetwood Eldorado, one of the most massive vehicles ever made, at 225 inches long with a 126 inch wheelbase, 5,000 pounds of hot pink Seventies glamor.
We took this shot of its massive grille behind us as the car with its powerful engine gained ground on us.
It pulled alongside so we could see the driver. A mysterious blonde spared not a glance for us as she steered the giant car past the rows of palm trees, hands firm on the wheel, hair blowing in the sun from beneath her white baseball cap.
Then it shot past us, crested the hill, and was gone.
Was its appearance a coincidence? A magical vision? A visitation? You tell me. In the Valley, I'll believe anything.