MacLeod and Sunset, Calvert St. Van Nuys, CA.Pizzas
MacLeod AleAndreas Samson, Katie McLaughlin, Colt Olin
MacLeod AleKatie, me and Colt
MacLeod Ale
A well-placed source who knows their finances told me that MacLeod Ale, which has been in business at 14741 Calvert St. in Van Nuys since 2014, will soon shut down for good.
I was an early supporter of the brewery, having found out about its impending opening when I worked at the Hollywood Farmers Market and saw someone walk past with a “MacLeod Ale, Van Nuys” t-shirt.
I lived in Van Nuys. I published a blog about Van Nuys. I stopped the man wearing it and asked.
“My friends Alastair and Jennifer are opening it next year. Do you want to meet them?” he asked.
I went with him to their house in North Hollywood and met them. They served me their British cask ale, unlike anything I had drunk before. It was warm, nutty, dark, low alcohol. I wasn’t sure I liked it, preferring higher alcohol, IPA, cold beer.
But I was enthusiastic about MacLeod Ale. It was a light development in the darkness of Van Nuys, a new place making something, a spot for community, a birthplace of a unique Van Nuys institution.
I saw some of the grueling hard work that went into building it. The concrete, the machines, the tanks, the labor, the building up of something where there had been nothing.
When they opened there might have been five beers, all brewed on cask, maybe some nitro, I can’t remember. I just remember that there were people socializing, everyone nice, amiable, good-natured, throwing darts, eating peanuts, coming into the brewery every night for a pint.
There were families with kids eating pizza or food from trucks, and drinking beer, and kids running around, and parents enjoying themselves. There were old people, young people, people of every background, nobody was an outsider.
I told Jennifer, one of the owners, about a brewery in Minnesota where customers bought “memberships” and soon she had a beer for life program, now memorialized in chalkboard, hanging on the wall, of all the founders who spent $1,000 each to fund MacLeod Ale.
Despite my enthusiasm for the brewery, I honestly don’t drink that much. I went there once or twice a month and drank a couple of beers. But every time it seems I had a great time, a thoughtful conversation, a chance meeting, a human experience.
The exhausting work that went into the enterprise, the hours that made this brewery possible, which created a destination for music, games, food and culture cannot be duplicated anywhere else in Van Nuys.
MacLeod Ale survived the pandemic. They opened another restaurant in Highland Park which didn’t last long. They went into debt. They have loans. Even though they do bring in crowds, in recent months, the writers and actors strike has doomed their business which is down 20%.
Why do fine things like MacLeod Ale have to die? Is there nobody with a lot of money and a lot of heart who can step up to rescue them?
We need MacLeod Ale more now than ever, as a communal, kind place to talk to human beings face to face.
AI knows everything about Van Nuys. But it has no opinions about Van Nuys.
It hasn’t lived here 20 years, woken up under helicopter patrol, been robbed, assaulted, attacked or killed.
It hasn’t driven down Victory Boulevard on a Saturday afternoon in the summer heat when there isn’t a soul walking down the street, just eight lanes of vehicles speeding past trash, ugly apartments, homeless encampments and mini malls. It hasn’t witnessed charming ranch houses with flower gardens, mature oaks and picket fences turned into concrete paved, iron fenced, security camera rentals with dozens of SUVs and strangers smoking weed next door.
It knows nothing about the way Van Nuys was in the 1950s when every boy and girl was blond haired and rode their bicycle to school and lived on fifteen cent hamburgers and never gained a pound.
So perhaps ignorance, absent biases and prejudices, is the best approach to exploring Van Nuys.
Why not give Van Nuys a chance to succeed in fantasy where it has failed in reality?
Magictravel is artificial intelligence for travel planning. I asked it to come up with a three-day itinerary for a visit to Van Nuys, and it supplied me with a refreshing, cynicism free, daily calendar of events.
Blithely ignorant but well-informed, practical minded in suggestions, woefully dumb in logistics, it served me up activities and destinations timed for travel and visits.
Day One:
For breakfast they recommended Nat’s Early Bite and I do like that place. I’ve eaten there many times. French toast and coffee for two in 2017 was about $20 so I assume that will be $45 now. 8-9am.
Breakfast would be followed by a shopping tour of the Sherman Oaks Galleria, which, if pre-pandemic memory serves me, has about three shops, many vacancies, and twelve places to eat, eleven of them frozen yogurt. 9-10:30am
Exhausted by so much shopping there, I would drive for 36 minutes to have lunch at Tokyo Fried Chicken in Monterey Park. 12-1:30pm.
Then I would get back on the freeway, drive 25 miles, all the way from the San Gabriel Valley to Encino, to spend three hours in 5-acre Los Encinos State Historic Park with its 19th Century Adobe House. I would spend three hours here, walking around in the hot summer heat, from tree to tree, truly stimulated by this fascinating place. 2-5pm
For dinner I would dine at The Front Yard on Vineland Avenue in the Beverly Garland Hotel. I only know from a recent visit there, that this is (shockingly) a quite lovely place with flowers, trees, fountains and a very civilized atmosphere quite unlike that which exists on Vineland under the freeway. 6-7:30pm
After dinner I would return to Woodley Park and take a nighttime stroll from 8-9:30pm. There are no cafes, no breweries, no dessert places, just many parking lots, a duck pond, and darkness. A little boring but this is considered top notch in Van Nuys.
I didn’t ask for a suggestion on where to stay, so just assume I spent it at my home in Van Nuys.
Day Two:
We are eating breakfast (from 8am to 9am) at Crumbs and Whiskers 7924 Melrose Avenue. I leave my house at 7am because I know traffic is heavy over Laurel Canyon.
But now, after coffee with cats, I have a sneezing attack. Crumbs and Whiskers was (surprise!) a cat café and I am highly allergic to felines. No worries. I will take a Claritin.
Magictravel.ai does not suggest post-breakfast activities near this restaurant, such as walking around Melrose, visiting Farmers’ Market, exploring Hollywood, LACMA or the Petersen Automotive Museum.
Being LA it suggests more driving.
We will get back in the car and drive 15 miles, 35 minutes away, to Woodley Park and walk around The Japanese Garden. 9-10:30am.
Lunch will be at Mariscos Los Arcos at 14038 Victory Bl. Family-run Mexican seafood. This sounds really delicious. ….12:30-1:30pm
After eating I’m anxious to get going to arrive at my next destination which is the Van Nuys Airport Observation area on Waterman Avenue, just west of Woodley and south of Roscoe. Yet another activity which takes place on hot asphalt, this is a delightful suggestion in the 100-degree heat. 2-3:30pm
After the thrill of watching jets tax, land and takeoff, there is refreshment at The Great Wall of Los Angeles (12900 Oxnard) where a 2,754 foot mural painted on the concrete wall of the LA River near Valley College seduces you with its depictions of women and minorities who helped build our stunning state of California. From 4:00-5:30pm I will walk back and forth along the dry concrete river and enjoy the artwork from the other side of the sewage channel. It cannot be seen up close by pedestrians, only by high sewage waters.
Finally, from 7:30-9pm we are having dinner on Sepulveda Boulevard in a very charming section of Van Nuys near Saticoy at Mercado Buenos Aires. Speeding cars, police sirens, car washes, and nowhere to walk add to the feeling of an endless vacation in paradise.
Exhausted from driving back and forth all day, I retire to bed in my house in Van Nuys. I may ask Magictravel for a body wash suggestion.
Day Three:
The last day of touring in Van Nuys. Visitors can leave after today.
Unluckily, for me, I have to live here full time.
Here is my itinerary:
8am-9am: Breakfast at Sabor and Sazon 14540 Vanowen St. I arrive there to find it is no longer in business but is now a marijuana dispensary.
Still hungry from not eating breakfast, I rush over to the Woodley Park Archery Range where I will spend the next hour and a half wandering around an archery range without a bow and arrow. 9-10:30am.
But I’ve got lunch plans. Picnic lunch at the Sepulveda Basin Wildlife Reserve. I will eat here (consuming the lunch I haven’t bought) surrounded by shopping carts, charred plants burned by hundreds of encampment fires, and try not to watch men having sex nearby. 12-1:30pm
Woodley Park/EncinoWoodley Park, 2018.
Still in the park, I plan to play golf which seems nice enough since there are trees and irrigated lawns watered with recycled H20. 2-3:30pm.
Nearly my entire second day in Van Nuys has been spent inside the confines of Woodley Park. Then I’m off to a more glamorous destination: Valley Glen.
Being a real foodie, I’m excited to eat authentic mid-century American “Italian” food at Barone’s Italian Restaurant at 13276 Oxnard St. with its retro vinyl booths and wood paneled rec room. I will probably order Fried Zucchini, Frank’s Special Pizza with Barone’s Famous Cheesecake and a few beers. 6-7:30pm.
After this great meal I will drive over, in the still hot, humid, smoggy night, to the Skyzone Trampoline Park 7741 Hazeltine 8-9:30pm where I plan to jump up and down with my stomach full of pizza, cheesecake, fried zucchini and three beers until I barf all over the trampoline.
“”Photographer: Glickman. Date: 1951-09-06. Reporter: Massard. Assignment: Marijuana in Van Nuys jail. G31-32: Officer F.G. Plamonden gapes at blooming plant of Marijuana. Note bars in background. G13: l to r: Officers Ken Smith and Harry Kowalski wonder what goes on with the plant. Copsater found out that it was sent to Valley Div. to be in a lecture on narcotics. G14: Eyes wide open and wondering what marijuana plant is doing in police station is Officer Ken Smith”.
There were many dramatic scenes from the “record breaking” winter storm which slammed into Southern California over the weekend: downed trees, car crashes, torrential rains, rapid water speeding down concrete channels, trees bent over in the winds, dark clouds and intermittent sunshine.
The Southern California mountains were like Switzerland before global warming, buried in many feet of snow.
Our well-fed people went up there in monster trucks and three-ton SUVs; McDonalds, sodas and donuts on laps; to enjoy the novelty. They wore their best black sweatshirts and black elastic pants to frolic in the white stuff.
An old man driving down slippery Kester Avenue near Vanowen had to avoid an enormous tree that fell down, so he accelerated, instead, into the same apartment building where the tree toppled down. He caused major damage but escaped with minor injuries. The unfortunate apartments and its residents had to evacuate but many stayed put. Once again bad driving caused misery for innocents.
A news helicopter was kind enough to rotate around the accident early the next morning around 6am, gently waking up thousands as it chopped, chopped, chopped overhead, broadcasting yet another bad accident to a sleep deprived audience which can never get enough.
Sunday morning, 6:45am.
The power had officially turned off last Friday, February 24, 2023 at about 8pm. Then it turned on, then it went off, and then it went back on. Our internet went out, as we were marooned halfway through “You”, episode 6, season 1, a horrible, odious, superficial show on Netflix full of self-absorbed young Manhattan people which we cannot stop watching.
Though our power is now on, it is weak, and all the normal things that we rely on, lights, oven, furnace, fans, are at 50% or are not working at all. There has been no heat in the house so we used an electric space heater, but that portable device, like a 58-year-old erotic dancer, emits a pathetic and hobbled hotness.
Yet there is nothing so tragic in our current calamity to compare to people living in war zones, under occupation, under dictatorship or without rule of law. That helps to put our LA inconveniences into perspective: the heartbreak of a cancelled yoga session, a microwaved cup of coffee that takes 5 minutes to heat up, a child without Disney Plus.
And yesterday on Sunday, the sun came out brilliantly, and the San Fernando Valley was surrounded by snowy mountains glistening against blue skies and white fluffy clouds.
To see the winter mountains in their glory we drove to a picturesque scenic outlook, in Sun Valley, along Branford Street where Chico’s Auto Dismantler, West Coast Audi VW Dismantler, Express Metals Recycling, Hooper’s Rear End, Javi’s Auto Repair, Sheldon Auto Parts, Jak Tire Recycling, and Honda Foreign Auto Parts border the Hansen Dam Recreational Area.
Beyond the steel gates and the steel junkyards, beyond the homeless tents and the wrecked cars, beyond the speeding vehicles dodging a potholed road, we saw the glorious San Gabriel range covered in snow, pure white snow, a gift from nature to the inhabitants of California, a reminder that no matter how hard we try and destroy this land, there is still one force stronger than us.
23 years ago, I was 36, living with Danny in a spacious two-bedroom on the third floor of a well-maintained elevator building in Studio City overlooking the Los Angeles River and paying $950 a month.
I worked in documentary television and hopped from $1200 a week jobs easily and without fear of unemployment.
I had some savings and we began to look for houses to buy, with a budget in the range of $150,000-$225,000.
We found a 900 square foot ranch house on La Maida near Tujunga and Riverside in Valley Village. It was very small and outrageously overpriced at $299,000. We liked the location but decided against it.
Then we saw a fixer upper on Atoll Avenue, near Oxnard and Fulton, just north of Valley College. They were asking $164,000, but the house had no kitchen. None whatsoever. Our realtor, Marty Azoulay, said he talked to the owners and they would throw in a stove and refrigerator if we agreed to the deal.
We nearly went for the Atoll Avenue house, but after several nerve-racking days we backed out.
We sometimes shopped at 99 Ranch Market on Sepulveda, and one day we found 6436 Blucher Avenue, the last street before the 405 freeway, on a block between Victory and Haynes.
It was 3 bedrooms, 2 baths and 1,846 square feet. We toured the property and took photos. There were steel windows and window air-conditioners, old carpeting, old bathrooms with corroded porcelain, steel awnings that overlooked a front yard with a decapitated tree and the consistent noise of the freeway, only a few hundred feet away.
“Caltrans is building a sound wall. Should be completed by 2002,” Marty assured us.
Next door, a new bachelor owner had just bought the exact same type of house and he had fixed it up nicely, with freshly painted light blue and light green walls.
But 6436 was in very poor condition. Everything would need upgrading or replacing: bathrooms, kitchen, roof, electrical and plumbing.
We spoke to our realtor and told him to offer $15,000 less than asking.
He contacted the seller and he came back with her answer.
The house would sell “as is” and she would not budge.
She stood firm at $180,000.
So, we walked away, and ended up buying another house a few blocks away for $194,000.
Just west of the 405, along delightful little streets nestled along the runways of Van Nuys Airport, several homes are on the market in Lake Balboa, asking price around a million dollars.
Here in Van Nuys 
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