Posts by Gary J. Lai

My trusty ’07 Toyota Prius, circa 128,000 miles old. Photos by Gary Lai.

I still remember my wife’s family’s 4th of July celebration even after nearly a decade later. I had just moved to Los Angeles and and was the proud new owner of a 2007 Prius. I was harboring high expectations about showing my wife’s family the car. We had been married for almost 15 years and I was already acquainted with my wife’s family ritual revolving around any new car. Family would gather around the shiny new vehicle to “ooh” and “ahh” appreciably in harmony. Just a year before I witnessed this tradition first hand when one of my wife’s cousins bought a new Subaru WRX.

Remembering this ritual I attempted to be helpful, parking close to the garage so that no one would need to venture too far away from the house during the summer heat to check out my new car. I walked in, set down our potluck dish, then proudly announced my $28k purchase.

The sound of crickets was deafening.

Needless to say, I could have parked in San Bernardino. No one even bothered to come out to look at the car at any time during our visit.

That was then, this is now. The boring, pedestrian, and weird Toyota hybrid is now the most common car across the city. My wife and I recently counted 97 Priuses pass by in just a span of an hour and a half while seated at a Silver Lake restaurant outdoor patio.

Hollywood has even taken notice. There a scene in La La Land when Emma Stone’s Prius keys are surrounded by scores of others on the valet board. Automobile anonymity.

Angelenos need to face reality: the era of the Mustang or the Mercedes SL500 convertible is over. The Prius is the car that most represents Los Angeles today.

A snapshot recently from Astro’s Coffee Shop in Silver Lake. From left to right:  Honda Insight, 2 Toyota Priuses (Third Generation), Chevy Volt.

Don’t kill the messenger! I’m a “car guy” too. I spent a sizable time during my 80s era youth salivating over Ferraris and Lamborghinis. I wasted most of my young adulthood tightly griping a controller in front of a TV playing Gran Turismo on the Playstation. I owned an illegally modified “rice rocket”, an Acura Integra, for 10 years. I even had the honor of driving on the track at Laguna Seca behind the wheel of a 2004 Dodge Viper. However, when it came down to buying a car for driving in Los Angeles a decade ago, I chose a Prius.

Why? Because…

1. …I am a Landscape Architect on a limited budget who lives in a very expensive city.
2. …our traffic is the absolute worst in the country. LA commuters waste an average of 81 hours a year in traffic compared with the next worst cities, Washington DC and San Francisco, tied at 75 hours of annual traffic purgatory.
3. …owning a BMW M5 capable of 0-60mph in under 4 seconds is meaningless in a city where you rarely afforded the opportunity to “speed” over 35mph.
4. …in a city with the worst air quality in the country, I drive a car that emits a fraction of carbon versus a gas-only internal combustion engine vehicle. I’m not the only one that made this decision. Los Angeles is now the leading city in sales of alternate fuel cars: Teslas, Volts, Leafs, and of course, new generation of Priuses.

Angelenos, I understand anyone’s apprehension and concern. Los Angeles invented car culture and its difficult to fathom Los Angeles choosing something so pedestrian as symbolic of our auto-loving city. Take heart, in the near future there will still be sexy, exotic fire-breathing sports machines rolling into parking lots along Sunset Blvd. or Beverly Blvd. for valets to lustily salivate over. For the foreseeable future certain cars will retain their status symbol.

But change is visible just over the hill of the proverbial 405 freeway: Millennials have stopped driving and are ride sharing; Baby Boomers and Gen-Xers have decided saving money and protecting the quality of air is more important than “status”, especially while stuck for hours every day in traffic.

The emergence of the Prius shows that we have, indeed, turned the corner on transportation.

Photo by Gary Lai

All photos by Gary Lai.

Inspired by our recent viewing of La La Land, my wife and I felt compelled to make the trek up the hill to visit the Griffith Observatory. We had heard stories about the epic traffic caused by the popularity of the film, so we decided to take the LA DOT DASH shuttle from the Metro Redline Station at Vermont and Sunset up to our destination to make life easier.

It proved to be the right decision.

Cars stretched down to Los Feliz Boulevard, the traffic snaking upward from both the Greek Theater and from Fern Dell Drive routes up to the Observatory. Even though the DASH crawled up the same road as the rest of the traffic, we were eventually dropped off directly in front of the entry plaza while everyone else in their cars had to still navigate and battle for parking up top.


The day was spectacularly clear with a moody sky perfect for an amateur iPhone photographer. Even though we had been to the Observatory many times, the trip never disappoints. The building itself screams nostalgia with its Art Deco architecture from a by-gone era of old Hollywood glamor. This combination of architecture and the breathtaking view offers a spectacular experience worthy of the crowds.

Photo by Gary Lai

Standing on the rooftop deck of the Griffith Park Observatory, the urbanist in me couldn’t help but imagine the view back in 1935, the sight of a central city surrounded by orchards, farmland and small, somewhat isolated communities. I would have surely been shocked to see a vast megapolis with long boulevards stretching toward the horizon.


If the 1927 film Metropolis seemed far-fetched to my imaginary 1935 self – or even my former 1982 “Blade Runner” self  – surely this view would convince me that those  fictional visions of the future are entirely plausible. As we run out of developable land and concentrate on densification and in-fill, I hope that we will make smarter decisions to manage our growth in the next century as opposed to the last. It was something for my wife and me to contemplate as we made our way back down the hill on the shuttle in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Photo by Scott Lowe (CC BY-NC 2.0

Photo by Scott Lowe (CC BY-NC 2.0)

Just one week into the Trump Era, I find myself grasping for good news – anything positive to hold onto. With this sentiment in mind, I’ve decided to attempt to move beyond my malaise and suggest the following positive things of note (listed in no particular order):

Rain, Oh Glorious Rain:  It’s sure nice to see the wet stuff finally fall from the Southern California sky after an epic drought. Not to be a wet blanket (pun intended), but we still have ways to go before we’ve fully replenished our water supply, with the flooding and mudslides a drag. However, let us rejoice at this winter’s extraordinary rainfall – 216% of normal, to be more exact.


[Mild spoilers ahead]

In the opening scene of Damien Chazelle’s new movie musical, LA LA Land, the sound of honking begin before the visuals start (reality check: no one honks their horns in LA, for fear of being shot). The camera pans across a line of cars stuck in traffic on the 105/110 interchange. For a movie about Los Angeles, this is about as cliche as it gets…yet, also about as accurate as you can get considering we do have the worst traffic in country.

As the camera pans across bored and miserable people baking in the sun and stuck in their cars, it suddenly climbs up above the traffic and zeros in on a specific women who starts to sing the opening number, “Another Day of Sun”. The woman jumps out of her car, convincing her fellow commuters to sing and dance their way across the freeway. As the camera deliriously pans back and forth over and around the freeway, the musical number reaches its climax, upon which everyone promptly gets back into their car and the honking resumes. The word “Winter” appears on the screen.

The audience at the Vista Theater in Los Feliz chuckled in acknowledgment.

Image: Lionsgate

Los Angeles is a city of great complexity and contradictions. As the movie moved onto follow two star-crossed lovers – a struggling jazz musician played by Ryan Gosling and a struggling actor  portrayed by Emma Stone – I realize that director Damien Chazell, more than anyone I know, has a deep understanding of Los Angeles.

As a contextual designer, I strive to understand a place, a site, a neighborhood, a city, a state, a country or wherever I need to design. Since the majority of my current work is in Los Angeles, I need to understand Los Angeles. But, LA is a city of contradictions. We are slow to accept change, but obsessively fast to implement change once it is accepted (see: public transportation). We revere aspects of the past, but are also quick to tear down reminders of that past (see: our penchant for destroying historical landmarks).

We convey the Hollywood image to the world, but are really about our blue collar background (did you know that we are one of the largest manufacturing cities in the country?). LA LA Land uses the imagery and cliches of the City of Angels to say something more about the inner truth of this place. At one point Gosling’s character, a native Angeleno, criticizes Los Angeles: “We worship everything, but value nothing.” Even that statement is a cliche, but has truth to it.

LA LA Land plays with these contradictions and layers them throughout its 128 minute playing time. It’s a modern musical shot in 1930’s style. It’s a fanciful drama of Old Hollywood Glamour set in Los Angeles gritty post-industrial neighborhoods – a “City of Stars” that regularly crushes its occupants aspirations and dreams, always precariously edging toward disaster, but maintaining stability somehow.

What’s a designer to do? Like an author striving to write the “Great American Novel”, designers try to create the “Great American Place” – in my case, the “Great LA Place”.

Maybe the key to designing in such a place is to embrace the complexity and contradictions of this city and try to ascertain the deeper meaning. Do we contradict ourselves because we honor and miss the past but recognize the need to move forward and change? Perhaps designing for our real life LA LA Land is really about designing to the vision of what Los Angeles wants to be. Perhaps we need to design for the ideal, the glamour, the image, but make those designs accessible to the reality of the people who live in this city.

As I was walking out of the theater, I overheard the best line of the evening that wasn’t even in the movie. One man standing in line for the restroom asked his friend, “So, did that movie inspire you or make you more desperate?”

Exactly the correct Los Angeles question.

Photo by Aurelio Pérez-Veith

Photo by Aurelio Pérez-Veith

A tiny piece of Los Angeles history disappeared last week.  After 100 years, the Hollywood Independent Church (HIC) conducted its final service on November 19th. HIC’s Reverend John Vargas final service at the historic Japanese American and Hawaiian church was introduced to the sound of conch seashells and a performance of hula dancers.  After the service, we were ushered into a recreation room where we could talk to old friends and enjoy homemade cupcakes and coffee.  Hollywood Independent Church ceased to exist after a long history of love, inclusion, and diversity in the wake of the cruelty and injustice of the Japanese American Internment.

HIC was a victim of generational and demographic shifts in Los Angeles.  It was my wife’s family church, but like many of the congregation, she moved away for college and ended up marrying a non-Southern Californian. When we moved back to Los Angeles about 8 years ago after nearly 20 years of being away, our ties to her church were only held together by the barest of threads.  We donated a little money and got the newsletter, but rarely it to attend service.  We were not alone.

Most of my wife’s peers had moved away to other cities within California, out of state, or even to a new country.  The surrounding neighborhood became more Hispanic and, consequently, more Catholic.  By the end, only a few souls were filling the sanctuary on Sundays. The church, faced with ongoing debt and an aging facility, decided that the only course of action was to sell the land and retire the debt while still having leftover funds to donate to the surrounding churches and community. Fortunately, Silver Lake adjacent property was a boon for the church who achieved all of its goals and more, contributing to some 20-40 charities and churches around Northeast Los Angeles, Glendale, and Burbank.  Anyone involved with HIC would not be surprised by this generosity given its long history of service in Southern California.

Photo by Gary Lai

Photo by Gary Lai

Originally called the Hollywood Japanese Christian Church, HIC was founded in 1916 by a group of Japanese immigrants to promote Christianity and mutual understanding with the communities around Southern California.  With a membership of only 25 people, HIC was able to buy and build their own church on the outskirts of Silver Lake in East Hollywood.  For almost 30 years, HIC continued its mission in Southern California.

On December 7th, 1941, Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Empire of the Japan. On February of 1942, Executive Order 9066 was signed, and the bulk of the HIC congregation was forcibly removed from the West Coast. These American citizens were allowed just two suitcases and were forced to leave their land, property, and most of their belongings behind. An accumulation of wealth for a generation was lost to opportunists, war profiteers, and “entrepreneurs” who were more than happy to “confiscate” and seize HIC members’ property as their own. Fortunately, the Pastor and members of Mt. Hollywood Congregational Church held onto and cared for HIC’s facility for 4 long years. Those HIC members who could return to Los Angeles faced financial destitution, bigotry, and isolation – but they still had their church.

Photo by Gary Lai

Photo by Gary Lai

Instead falling to bitterness and negativity from the illegal persecution from their own country, the members of HIC decided to continue their mission of healing, inclusion, and love.  They dropped the “Japanese” from their churches title to promote a more diverse population into their ranks. Hawaiians moving to the mainland were immediately drawn to the church and quickly became important leaders, but all nationalities and races were welcomed. HIC joined the Southern California Congregational Conference and would be a founding member of the Southern California Conference of the United Church of Christ (UCC). It would be one of the first churches to support LGBT rights and members would march in the Gay Pride Parade in West Hollywood. This tiny church that would never break more than a 100 members operated a food bank, an adult language center, and would participate in the Pacific Island Asian American Ministries of UCC. HIC would never turn its back on its mission and responsibilities.

Ironically, just a few days before HIC’s final service, Mr. Carl Higbie, a President-elect Trump supporter and surrogate, called for using the Japanese American internment as a precedent for Muslim American registration.  Southern California Japanese American leaders have long cited their experiences as a warning to the Muslim American community and have been actively engaging the community with outreach and counseling.

As I said my goodbyes to former Hollywood Independent Church members after being over-sugared and over-caffeinated, I wondered if I could find the strength and resolve to follow the congregation’s example of love over hate, understanding over bigotry, and service over self-enrichment.  I’m not sure I can do it, but I do know that if one tiny sliver of light in the second largest city in the country could do this much good, one tiny individual in this city can try.