A FEW WEEKS AGO, I MENTIONED Huell Howser’s travel shows on KCET. I joked about his Tennessee twang and overly-enthusiastic style, but over the years he has built up a huge following. I don’t think I have a “following.” I’m more of a stop on the way to the crossword puzzle.
Actually, when I take my dog Oscar for a bike ride at sunset, I feel like a poor man’s Huell Howser. One of these days I’ll get a digital camera. I might even put Oscar on YouTube. At the kiddie park, I put a tennis ball at the top of the slide. On command, Oscar races up the stairs, grabs the ball and slides down the slide. The kids giggle wildly and Oscar beams with pride.
On one of our rides we noticed unusual landscaping near Perry’s Cafe. (I noticed the landscaping, Oscar noticed a piece of pizza.) Along the walkway between Barnard Way and the bike path are cement planters filled with nondescript bushes. But four of the planters are like little exotic gardens. I stopped to take a closer look. (Actually, Oscar stopped for the pizza almost sending me over the handlebars.) I couldn’t figure out why these four were so lush and the others so sparse. There were white, yellow and red rose bushes, begonias and all sorts of unusual cacti. A kid working at Perry’s told me an old man who lives in his van had been planting it all for the past five years. I was intrigued with what might have motivated the man, but since he wasn’t there and Oscar had finished the pizza, we continued on.
Weeks later, I spotted a muscular, older man with a trimmed white beard using buckets to water his gardens. In the parking lot, a van was nearby with a dog chained up. I approached to mention I might want to do a story. (Oscar approached to sniff his dog.) The man was gruff. The police recently gave him a warning that planting on city property, however beautiful, is illegal. The last thing he wanted to do was to talk to me, so I complimented him on his gardens and resumed my bike ride.
The next time I rode by, to my surprise, the old man waved me over. He volunteered his name was “Robert,”whereas before he insisted I call him “old man.” The police had decided the gardens were OK after residents in the neighborhood had expressed support for Robert. One neighbor, whose mother had passed away, brought Robert a small rosebush and asked him to plant it in her memory. I’m not claiming Robert is a garden guru, but suffice to say the rosebush is not small anymore.
Robert may live in a van, but he’s very resourceful.With a senior citizen pass,he parks in the lot every day. He bought a membership at Bally’s, where he works out and showers. As for his dog, he’s named “Foot” because of one white paw. Oscar and Foot get along famously, until Oscar snoops too close to the van.
Robert and I have talked numerous times. I learned he was a truck driver until a back injury put him out of work and eventually on the street. His van is outfitted with many conveniences, including a DVD player. He checks out DVDs and large print books from my favorite library in the world, the Ocean Park branch.
As a boy, Robert worked on farms in Long Island. Evidently, his green thumb stayed with him because the gardens are flourishing. He even raises collard greens and tomatoes that he shares with residents. I’m not sure what Huell Howser would make of Robert, but my guess is he’d be enthusiastic. I could see him tasting the collard greens and tomatoes. I’m hoping to taste some myself.
Many eccentric types are drawn to Santa Monica. Some people like that about our city, some don’t. I suppose if anyone sees me videotaping Oscar sliding down the slide they might think I’m a bit eccentric too.
In the meantime, for those to whom this was just a stop along the way, the crossword puzzle is on page 15.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on May 18, 2007. Read the original PDF.