Thought somethin' wuz up!
At the West Branch of the Los Angeles Postal Office - where I rent a private mailbox - the clerks were fussin' about the past week.
Uh-huh.
Spanking new letter boxes were installed out front on the postage-sized lot, just a scant couple of days ago, in an aesthetically-pleasing fashion.
Then, the curb near the entrance of the Postal outlet was slapped with a pristine shade of white paint to upgrade a welcome "temporary parking" zone where patrons can "stop and drop" correspondence ready to go out with the evening batch of mail.
When that task was completed to satisfaction, a posse of postal workers then proceeded to inflate sassy sprays of festive balloons inside the front foyer, while another illustrious gaggle of staffers erected a new sign on the stone facade street-side under a mysterious drop cloth out-of-view.
Later, officials ceremoniously announced at a festive press conference, that the Los Angeles West Branch of the Post Office (situated in what is affectionately known as gay gulch) would henceforth be known evermore as the West Hollywood Postal Service.
Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?
But, not everyone was filled with joy at the unveiling.
"I'd almost given up," confessed City Councilman Jeffrey Prang. "It's been a lengthy process."
In fact, the whole snafu had been causing a lot of inner angst for residents of West Hollywood (Boys Town), a city which was incorporated back in 1984.
In spite of its youth, the origins and boundaries of the city are a mystery to most.
However, the few who caught the feature film - LA CONFIDENTIAL - are keenly aware that this neck of the woods has been notoriously sounding off for a few decades. Indeed, the square-mile town was sort-of an "outlaw" dig in the olden days - where anything went - and probably did.
For years, West Hollywood City Officials sought to have the West Branch named in honor of the infamous enclave. If anything, to at least resolve what was perceived by many, as a growing identity crisis. But, to no avail.
Indeed, the process dragged on for so long that City Counsel members figured the request must have "gone for lost" in the dead letter box in a remote part of the U.S. Post Office in downtown LA LA LAND somewhere.
But finally, the powers-that-be gave their blessing.
Ironically, I find it curious that a neighborhood predominantly known for being populated by socially active gay men has a zip code (90069) that ends in a tantalizing number "sixty-nine".
After all, the scintillating numbers are often associated with a kinky sexual act enthusiastically engaged in by those of a same-sex persuasion. I gather!
Yes, getting male - um, mail - "franked" in West Hollywood has an entirely different twist to it!
It's highly doubtful Uncle Sam raised any bone of contention over it.
By the way, a number of elected officials from the West Hollywood City Council were on hand for the ubiquitous unveiling.
In the midst of the hoi polloi, for instance, the West Hollywood Mayor - John Duran - was inclined to mingle.
In a moment of levity, he quipped with a wide smile,
"I'm not the Mayor of Los Angeles."
We know that, John.
That Mexican guy - with a name that starts with "Villa" - throws up his feet on the desk downtown at City Hall around siesta each day, not toi.
A day later - long after the fanfare has subsided - the changes don't appear to have been that earth-shattering, though.
The Post Office is a tidier-looking structure, tarted up in an eye-catching shade of ultra-marine blue with an oh-so-subtly highlighted accent trim which is beguiling, for sure.
And yes, the premises now boast a well-manicured flower bed which push up colorful pansies which add a freshness to the once run-down lot which had been an eyesore for years.
But, some things never change.
Mail I was expecting a couple of days ago has yet to nosey its way into mailbox - in spite of the fact I was assured by a contractor - "the check is in the mail".
Oh well, the U.S. Postal service is not called "snail mail" for no good reason!
