I'm at Angel Moments Gift Shop in Altadena. It's 8pm last night, Sep 22, the lights have been turned down and eight of us are sitting round, silently watching Cesar, a plump, Latino-looking man who looks in his 30s with a neatly trimmed black beard, as he goes into a trance to act as a channel for Zachary, said to be a long-dead spirit from before recorded time who we are assured will try to answer any question we put to him. Win or lose, this is going to be interesting.
We are in the shop, a long, thin room lined with shelves full of spirtualist books, stones, candles, knick-knacks, bric-a-brac, almost anything a believer could want to buy to take home and get them in the mood. There are no out-and-out sceptics in the audience, but all look fairly matter-of-fact - no kaftans, no playacting.
Along with three or four others in the group, I take notes. Mine begin: 'Cesar meditates, seems to receive a spirit, "becomes" Zachary. Quite different from the jolly, outgoing person he was before the session.' He looks defiant at times, speaks slowly, even ponderously, uses words like 'attempt' instead of 'try', tells people 'Continue' when they ask if they can ask him something. He rolls his eyes up into his head from time to time, and occasionally lets out a slow, exaggerated, almost contemptuous laugh as he throws his head back. It could of course all be a huge act, but Cesar keeps it up for 90 minutes and gives every impression, before, during and after, of believing in what he is doing.
Some of the pronouncements are no than routine. Lynne asks him if Princess Diana was killed deliberately and whether she was pregnant when she died. Cesar/Zachary answers a definite no to both questions, adding that a conspiracy followed her death. He also repeated the oft-made prediction that Prince Charles would never become king. It was all stuff anyone could have picked up from any of a thousand newspapers, magazines, websites or TV or radio shows, but it dealt straightforwardly with the question as put.
Another public-interest question was would Hillary Clinton become US President? C/Z hedged a little, saying that was uncertain but next year would be the year of the women - 'It is time for the female energy to rise, yes'. This naturally met with general approval. Few rednecks attend seances.
C/Z was asked several personal questions, on the lines of should I move house, am I in the right job, where will I be in a year's time? Some were answered with a straight yes or no, others more ambiguously with encouraging phrases such as 'you will fulfil your purpose on this earth', which could mean anything. Much closing of eyes, falling silent, then glassy stares into the middle distance.
One lady asked if her daughter would get funding for a university course to study music. C\Z came back at his most Delphic: 'She must perform music in an ensemble, and the world will respond'. Whether the world would respond with the required cash or a big fat raspberry was left open.
Curious to see if C\Z could come up with verifiable facts, I asked if he could contact my dead father. He said my father wanted me to continue with my writing (Cesar had established before the session that I was a journalist, so that was no more than a standard piece of reassurance). I asked what my father's work had been and C\Z said he saw ledgers - fair enough, he had been in the UK Inland Revenue for the last 15 years of his career, but not as interesting as if C\Z had latched onto my father's previous 25 years in the London police force. There was some stuff about my father's artistic instincts having been suppressed on earth but how he was now expressing this side of his character - news to me, but possible.
Then C\Z said, unprompted: 'Is there a Benjamin in your life?' Bullseye, that's the name of one of my sons. C\Z reckoned I should go through Ben to to talk to my father, they were in touch. Then, slightly offbeam but still intriguing, C\Z asked if I knew a Mr Jackson. The connection there is that Ben's 18-month-old son is called Jackson, a common last name but an unusual first name.
C\Z added that he kept seeing an elderly man with spectacles and a long beard sitting at my side. We never managed to identify this apparently benign guest, who of course only C\Z could see: unless my clean-shaven, unbespectacled father had found a fancy dress shop on the other side, it didn't sound like him.
After 90 minutes, which I felt was a suspiciously convenient length of time, C\Z lapsed into prayer and Cesar woke up saying 'Oh man, what happened?' He claimed not to recall much of what he had been saying as Zachary, and was keen to know from us -an interesting twist if it was an act, but entirely consistent with his demeanor. It was the right length of time for an audience that had paid $25 a head, so wanted value, but were satisfied by then. But Cesar insisted that if Zachary had disappeared after ten minutes that would have been that.
So nothing conclusively proved but enough tantalising successes to make me think: 'Hmmm, I wonder....' At any rate, I'll be going back in a month's time.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
halloween party time
Today I have been Superman, Batman, the Mad Hatter, Frankenstein, and Jack Sparrow.
No, I'm not suffering delusions of grandeur, yes it's that dressing-up time of year again, and it's coming round sooner than you think. Although Halloween is October 31, that is a Wednesday - fine for determined partygoers, but as midweek as midweek gets. So the big Halloween party night will be October 27, making it all the more urgent to choose that costume.
Although Britain is picking up on Halloween, pushed by all those shops eager to spark a bit of extra business, it is really confined to kids knocking on doors. They do that in America, of course, but it is also one of the major party times. And it is the biggest for dressing up, which is music to the ears of Pok-A-Dot, a fancy dress shop in Arcadia, near Santa Anita racetrack a few miles east of Pasadena.
It is like walking into the props department of a top film studio. Rows and rows of outfits stretch floor to ceiling as far as the eye can see, with separate sections for hats and shoes. At least three-quarters of the space is taken up by women's costumes, everything from Miss Whiplash to Drive-In Waitress, nearly all of them excuses to wear skirts that are shorter than short. 'Well,' said one customer with a dismissive wave of her hand, 'you get a couple of drinks inside you and who cares?' This one was clearly aiming to get more than a couple of drinks inside her on the night.
'How do I look?' innocently asked a plump girl with breasts the size of basketballs, straining against a rather flimsy Robin Hood outfit. Maid Marion she wasn't.
The ladies who run this shop know the game: be highly indulgent, let the punters' imagination run wild and try on everything they want, because in the end it'll be more likely they'll pluck up the courage to walk out with something they wouldn't have dreamt of wearing when they entered this magic shop.
For that's what it is, a dream store that enables the public to be whoever they want to be, for free until they settle on what they are actually going to buy - or rent. Whether it turns out to be a success on the night doesn't matter, yet. The game's the thing, and the owners are very good at suggesting props and accessories that will probably be discarded within 20 minutes of getting to the party. Walking sticks, death ray runs, eye patches, 60s sunglasses, all look good in the store and you want to get the outfit right. But once everyone has seen the joke, they become a burden and slide into corners or behind cupboards as the evening takes over and the costumes become irrelevant.
But all that is in the future. Pok-A-Dot is a hope factory, and late September is when the hope season begins.
No, I'm not suffering delusions of grandeur, yes it's that dressing-up time of year again, and it's coming round sooner than you think. Although Halloween is October 31, that is a Wednesday - fine for determined partygoers, but as midweek as midweek gets. So the big Halloween party night will be October 27, making it all the more urgent to choose that costume.
Although Britain is picking up on Halloween, pushed by all those shops eager to spark a bit of extra business, it is really confined to kids knocking on doors. They do that in America, of course, but it is also one of the major party times. And it is the biggest for dressing up, which is music to the ears of Pok-A-Dot, a fancy dress shop in Arcadia, near Santa Anita racetrack a few miles east of Pasadena.
It is like walking into the props department of a top film studio. Rows and rows of outfits stretch floor to ceiling as far as the eye can see, with separate sections for hats and shoes. At least three-quarters of the space is taken up by women's costumes, everything from Miss Whiplash to Drive-In Waitress, nearly all of them excuses to wear skirts that are shorter than short. 'Well,' said one customer with a dismissive wave of her hand, 'you get a couple of drinks inside you and who cares?' This one was clearly aiming to get more than a couple of drinks inside her on the night.
'How do I look?' innocently asked a plump girl with breasts the size of basketballs, straining against a rather flimsy Robin Hood outfit. Maid Marion she wasn't.
The ladies who run this shop know the game: be highly indulgent, let the punters' imagination run wild and try on everything they want, because in the end it'll be more likely they'll pluck up the courage to walk out with something they wouldn't have dreamt of wearing when they entered this magic shop.
For that's what it is, a dream store that enables the public to be whoever they want to be, for free until they settle on what they are actually going to buy - or rent. Whether it turns out to be a success on the night doesn't matter, yet. The game's the thing, and the owners are very good at suggesting props and accessories that will probably be discarded within 20 minutes of getting to the party. Walking sticks, death ray runs, eye patches, 60s sunglasses, all look good in the store and you want to get the outfit right. But once everyone has seen the joke, they become a burden and slide into corners or behind cupboards as the evening takes over and the costumes become irrelevant.
But all that is in the future. Pok-A-Dot is a hope factory, and late September is when the hope season begins.
police to meet you
I had my first encounter with the Pasadena constabulary yesterday, and very revealing it was - not so much about our wonderful local police so much as the people that called them, the Apple store in Colorado Boulevard.
No, I was not trying to steal an iPhone or any of their other ludicrously overpriced gadgets for which you might, just might, get a $100 voucher to spend in one of their stores if you happen to catch them gouging in a particularly greedy way.
My son, Andrew, wanted to buy one of the new iPods and went in while I waited outside in the car on a red line. I was staying in the car in case we were moved on, and he said he would be only a couple of minutes. That's all it had taken him when he was last here. But not this time.
The minutes ticked on. And on. And on.
After half an hour and no sign of Andrew, I thought I'd better go in and see if I could help, or at least see if he was anywhere near the head of the line.
There he was, at the cash desk, looking flustered while the assistant talked on the phone to what turned out to be the third credit card center.
'Can I buy it on my card instead?' I offered.
'If you wouldn't mind, Dad. I can't understand why they are declining the cards, I'm way under my spending limits.'
So my card and driving license were passed across the counter, and everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly. Then I noticed a police officer standing at the end of the counter.
'How you doin' sir?' he asked politely.
'Fine,' I replied, not thinking he had anything to do with me. Then two others arrived and it was a case of 'Step outside the store, sir.'
'Why?' I asked as a blue-sleeved hand grasped my arm a little too tightly for comfort.
'We'll explain outside.'
And, out on the sidewalk, we had a pleasant conversation about how this was happening all the time, Apple were particularly nervous because they were afraid of shoplifting, sorry to delay you. Eventually the Apple store manager said he was happy and I was allowed back into the store to make the purchase.
This was a result of Apple trying to have it both ways. They want to leave their products lying around in a relaxed, informal environment to encourage you to pick them up and buy them. But, because they are relatively high-priced and extremely fashionable, they are scared stiff of theft and everything that goes with that.
This all stems back to the supermarkets, who more than 60 years ago started saving on sales staff by simply putting their goods on shelves and leaving it to the customers to serve themselves. Naturally there are precautions in place to deter thieves, but supermarkets generally sell low-priced items and they budget for a certainly amount of stealing (known euphemistically as 'shrinkage') and in any case most of what vanishes does so in employees' pockets.
Next to jump on the bandwagon was bookshops, who also wanted customers to sample the merchandise, even providing armchairs so they could browse that much more comfortably. Slightly dearer goods, but on the whole bulkier than the average can of beans, so it has worked OK.
Retailers of the really expensive stuff either continue to keep it behind glass cases, as with jewellery and watches, or the goods are too bulky to walk away with, like furniture or TVs.
That leaves Apple with the dearest goods that fit in your bag or pocket. Eventually their appeal will fade, once we all have phone and computer implants and the fashionistas will have to move onto something else. But meanwhile they are trying to do the dance of the seven veils with a stiletto in their shoe. It's not a pretty sight.
Nor is the craven behavior of the banks, who were the other villains in this story. Low-cost travel has made it difficult for them to keep track of many of their customers, so they apply some crude assumptions about spending patterns. Anyone that steps outside the pattern can expect to be refused - something the real crooks know only too well and therefore take account of, unless they are complete amateurs. OK, a store like Apple will get more than its share of such amateur con merchants, but it's hardly good customer relations. Best to either pay cash or phone the bank in advance and tell them where you are going shopping. They hate suprises, see, or else they'd have chosen more interesting careers than telling people they can't use their credit cards.
No, I was not trying to steal an iPhone or any of their other ludicrously overpriced gadgets for which you might, just might, get a $100 voucher to spend in one of their stores if you happen to catch them gouging in a particularly greedy way.
My son, Andrew, wanted to buy one of the new iPods and went in while I waited outside in the car on a red line. I was staying in the car in case we were moved on, and he said he would be only a couple of minutes. That's all it had taken him when he was last here. But not this time.
The minutes ticked on. And on. And on.
After half an hour and no sign of Andrew, I thought I'd better go in and see if I could help, or at least see if he was anywhere near the head of the line.
There he was, at the cash desk, looking flustered while the assistant talked on the phone to what turned out to be the third credit card center.
'Can I buy it on my card instead?' I offered.
'If you wouldn't mind, Dad. I can't understand why they are declining the cards, I'm way under my spending limits.'
So my card and driving license were passed across the counter, and everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly. Then I noticed a police officer standing at the end of the counter.
'How you doin' sir?' he asked politely.
'Fine,' I replied, not thinking he had anything to do with me. Then two others arrived and it was a case of 'Step outside the store, sir.'
'Why?' I asked as a blue-sleeved hand grasped my arm a little too tightly for comfort.
'We'll explain outside.'
And, out on the sidewalk, we had a pleasant conversation about how this was happening all the time, Apple were particularly nervous because they were afraid of shoplifting, sorry to delay you. Eventually the Apple store manager said he was happy and I was allowed back into the store to make the purchase.
This was a result of Apple trying to have it both ways. They want to leave their products lying around in a relaxed, informal environment to encourage you to pick them up and buy them. But, because they are relatively high-priced and extremely fashionable, they are scared stiff of theft and everything that goes with that.
This all stems back to the supermarkets, who more than 60 years ago started saving on sales staff by simply putting their goods on shelves and leaving it to the customers to serve themselves. Naturally there are precautions in place to deter thieves, but supermarkets generally sell low-priced items and they budget for a certainly amount of stealing (known euphemistically as 'shrinkage') and in any case most of what vanishes does so in employees' pockets.
Next to jump on the bandwagon was bookshops, who also wanted customers to sample the merchandise, even providing armchairs so they could browse that much more comfortably. Slightly dearer goods, but on the whole bulkier than the average can of beans, so it has worked OK.
Retailers of the really expensive stuff either continue to keep it behind glass cases, as with jewellery and watches, or the goods are too bulky to walk away with, like furniture or TVs.
That leaves Apple with the dearest goods that fit in your bag or pocket. Eventually their appeal will fade, once we all have phone and computer implants and the fashionistas will have to move onto something else. But meanwhile they are trying to do the dance of the seven veils with a stiletto in their shoe. It's not a pretty sight.
Nor is the craven behavior of the banks, who were the other villains in this story. Low-cost travel has made it difficult for them to keep track of many of their customers, so they apply some crude assumptions about spending patterns. Anyone that steps outside the pattern can expect to be refused - something the real crooks know only too well and therefore take account of, unless they are complete amateurs. OK, a store like Apple will get more than its share of such amateur con merchants, but it's hardly good customer relations. Best to either pay cash or phone the bank in advance and tell them where you are going shopping. They hate suprises, see, or else they'd have chosen more interesting careers than telling people they can't use their credit cards.
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