Things have been busy with the rental property I manage in the Franklin Hills. It is exciting being in charge of a newly renovated, beautiful, top-notch property in one of the most sought-after places in the country. People are very interested in securing a lease here. This area is one of the top neighborhoods for creative professionals anywhere. East Hollywood, Los Feliz, Silver Lake, Echo Park. So we get very interesting people coming over to take a look when the place is available.
Not to brag, but one time Brad Pitt used the barbecue area there for some sort of outdoor meeting he needed a space for. He pulled a fast one on us. He told us over the phone that he would be showing up on a motorcycle. We kept an eye out, but the motorcycle never came. In the end, a black SUV parked the wrong way on Franklin Ave., which is a two-way street but only allows parking in one direction. The story of the motorcycle was probably to throw any looky-loos off his trail in case word spread. Must be hard to be Brad Pitt.
Speaking of driving in the Franklin Hills, a whole driving culture has developed there. The thing is, the streets are narrow, cracked, curvy, and have no sidewalks. Despite this, people love to walk around the hill. They walk their dogs. Some neighbors are out every day. On a hill filled with spacious single-family homes, that is one of the few ways you can meet your neighbors. Living in your own house is not the best way to live if you want to make new friends and expand a social circle that isn't solid yet.
Luckily, the residents of the Franklin Hills are friendly and open to showing their faces and sharing small talk around the block. All that to say that driving can be complicated. I've known people who have not lived there to get anxious or lost. The streets are one-way sized with two-way traffic. So every time two cars come up head to head, one of them has to duck behind a parked car to let the other through. It is a collaborative effort, with both cars making an effort to be deferential. A lot of times both cars will start backing up, and one driver will have to insist that the other move forward.
I think it's become more extreme since the property values doubled in the last decade. These hills are suddenly extremely fancy, and the old cracked streets are a sign of status. Suddenly the people moving in and out are trading over $2 million on average to live there.
My parents live there. I grew up there.
I visited my parents' house the other day. I crossed paths with their neighbor on a walk with their dog and their son.
"Hi Rocket!"
The dog jumped on me as I was pulling myself out of my car.
Her son was two now. I remembered when he was born.
"Is that..?"
"Yup, he's two now. Tell him how old you are."
"I's two."
The sun was going down. It was an orange sunset on the top of the hill. The Hollywood Sign and Griffith Observatory in the not-so-far distance. Everyone was out for a nightly family walk before dinner.
I was visiting my parents to welcome the new tenant to the ADU for his five-week stay. That same day I had shown the space to someone looking to reserve it for July.
It was a good day.
