Roselle Chen

Officer Sean Smollen had slightly red-rimmed blue eyes when he greeted me with a big smile at the Beverly Hills Police Department. He was coming off his 12.5-hour shift guarding the Armenian president during a protest the night before. As we got into his Crown Ford Victoria, he told me that he's served Beverly Hills for 18 years and that everyone thinks the "streets are lined with gold here, but it's not as lovely as people think."

            Smollen, 41, is a family man, with a wife and three kids living in Ventura County. His eldest son, a 14-year-old, is a musical genius who can play his guitar to every Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix song out there. Smollen's father is a retired firefighter, and he knew he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps by being a public servant from a young age.

            Crime around Smollen's patrol area has increased, and he said that it was understandable due to the economy. The most common type of crime around Beverly Hills is burglary.

Warden Robert Chavez said that these kinds of crimes are usually because the arrested feel a "sense of entitlement" to the things they are taking. Once they realize the ramifications of being in jail however, their priorities as to what is important to them changes.

"Many of these individuals do not break into houses with the intention of harming their owners," said Chavez. "They just want material things."

Chavez, who was previously a warden at Pelican Bay State Prison, one of the country's most dangerous prisons, said a marked difference between the inmates at Pelican Bay and at Beverly Hills is the "potential for rehabilitation."

"Everyone who is in jail says they're not guilty, but when you are lower on the totem pole of crimes or misdemeanors, it's easier for you to turn your life around," said Chavez.

Smollen added that if it weren't for residents who "love law enforcement" and are "so supportive of us," a large part of the burglaries would go unsolved.

Smollen took me to the Greystone Mansion where Spider-Man and There Will Be Blood was filmed, among other movies. I asked him if he's encountered a lot of celebrities given the neighborhood. "Put it this way," he said, "I've been on TMZ and The Osbournes more times than I can remember."

            Although celebrity sightings are common in the Beverly Hills area, it was not the reason why Smollen decided to pursue law enforcement. Laws were enacted because people could not comply with social obligations. Basically, law enforcement is a reaction to "people being inconsiderate," he said. But, continued Smollen, if you approach people with the same level of respect you expect them to give, they will usually be reciprocal and forthcoming.

            He added that residents are really supportive of the department and will each pitch in and do their part in maintaining the peace in their area. As he talked about these residents he received a call from the dispatcher who said three kids all around the age of 12 were plotting to steal a delivery man's bicycle. A lady reported them because she suspected if she hadn't been standing there, they would've stolen the bicycle.

            Smollen drove to where the kids were and two other officers were already there. All three kids were questioned separately and one of them was arrested. The kids were from Korea Town and were cutting school. I asked him if the law was more lenient on juveniles and he said no, "in fact it's stricter." The reason why was because they do not want children to be habitual offenders, so the rules are more stringent. "That's great for me as a dad; you want to see that," Smollen said.

            One personal account in particular reinforced how the law should be stricter on children. Smollen arrested a girl 10 years ago for drug possession and she went through the state mandated drug rehabilitation system. While Smollen was out patrolling recently, the same girl came up to him and asked him if he remembered her. She had turned her life around after his arrest and wanted him to know how much she appreciated the "kick in the butt." He said that was one of the most rewarding experiences he's had because "you want people to succeed in life."

            Smollen received another call through the dispatcher about a male who looked Middle Eastern leaving the Beverly Hills Hilton on foot carrying a suspicious package. Smollen asked me to help look for him down alleys and in garages. He said it was probably a leftover protester from the Armenian president coming into town. While he talked to me, his eyes shifted from left to right, scanning the area. He explained that we should look down alleys because that's the kind of place where people think they're most likely to be hidden. Officers are constantly looking at activity and are extremely inquisitive by nature and they "never take things at face value." They always dig deeper into the scene.

As we were looking for the man, Smollen spotted a couple collecting cans and bottles from the recycling bins behind the residential houses. He said that he's seen a lot more couples and even families collecting bottles just to make it through each day. He ignores them the first time and says it's up to the discretion of the officer to write them a citation. Technically, it's illegal to look through other people's garbage, but it's hard not to see that they just want to make a couple of dollars to feed their families, he said. After the third time of driving around and still finding them sorting through garbage however, Smollen tells them to move on.

Although we did not find the man with the suspicious package, I learned that there is a lot more to the department than nice houses and celebrity sightings. I asked Smollen what the most valuable lesson of his job was. He said that there are bad days but the good days outweigh the bad by far and a large part of that is how you approach the job. "The badge does not make me, I make the badge," he said. He said he makes the badge by helping people do the right thing. He reports to duty every day by being optimistic and knowing that a large percentage of the world consists of "good people who do really nice things for each other."

The El Chato taco truck gets to work in the middle of an auto body parking lot around 8 p.m. every night as people mill around waiting for its shutters to swing open. Smoke curls out against the black ink sky as the chefs of the truck prepare their one dollar tacos for hungry customers.

According to Mike, the owner's nephew, two reasons for this taco truck's success are that their ingredients are always fresh and their establishment is run by hardworking, honest employees.

They are a family ranging from four to seven people, depending on how busy the night will be. Mike started working at the truck two years ago and plans to take over the business one day.

"Yes, after a certain amount of years, probably a long while, but we're hoping to open up a restaurant soon."

Yelp.com has 59 positive reviews on this taco truck, and it's been repeatedly hailed as one of the top 10 taco trucks in Los Angeles, according to CNN and L-A Magazine.

For all its praise, you would think the tacos are authentic Mexican food that was passed down from Grandma's secret recipe, but it's not the case, according to Mike.

"It's not from Mexico at all, it's from here, there is nothing related to Mexican culture, it's just our own ingredients."

Wayne Sanchez, a loyal customer, has been to quite a few taco trucks in LA but he keeps going back to his favorite one.

"This one is different from the rest, they really show cleanliness and you can see what they're doing, and it makes you feel like you can eat here."

Elena, on the other hand, provides a simple reason for why she enjoys the food.

"It's delicious, that's why I'm out eating it so late."

Even though detractors may say that the tacos are not authentic Mexican cuisine, it hasn't stopped people from coming back, night after night, for six years and counting.

Christiane Amanpour was the only reason why I went to my college graduation. I postponed an overseas trip with my friends to hear her speak. She got me through the bleary-eyed study sessions when I would take a break and surf through the dorm's 12" television set. I'd land on CNN and see her, calm and concerned, while she reported in Sarajevo or Iraq, Pakistan, Rwanda. Her black poofy hair swirled around her face and she stood in front of that camera, her deep voice and dark eyes reassuring. What she had to say was too big for that TV screen. I'd think, if I could have half the passion she does in life, I'd be okay.

One of the things she has said that has always struck me was in response to criticism on her taking sides with an issue, "There are some situations one simply cannot be neutral about, because when you are neutral you are an accomplice," said Ms. Amanpour. "Objectivity doesn't mean treating all sides equally. It means giving each side a hearing." I thought that statement was simply enlightening as a communications major, because we were taught to be objective and write with neutrality. She became my personal hero after that quote. When someone becomes my hero, I try to find out all there is to know about him/her, although at times the digital footprint they leave behind makes me feel like a digital stalker.

Christiane was born in London, January 12, 1958, but moved to Iran right after birth. Her father is Iranian and mother is English. Her family fled Iran when she was 11, after the fall of the shah. After seeing firsthand what the Islamic Revolution did to her father's fortune and mainly, Iran, she decided to become a journalist. She went to University of Rhode Island and graduated summa cum laude with a BA in journalism. She served 18 years as a foreign correspondent for CNN, starting in 1983 and working her way up from a desk assistant to reporting in Iraq, Afghanistan, the Palestinian territories, Iran, Israel, Pakistan, Somalia, Rwanda, the Balkans, to name a few. She has her own show now, simply called Amanpour, which is a 30-minute daily interview show. She's won numerous awards, is on Facebook, Twitter, Technorati, and just about every other news organization you can think of. Christiane is married to James Rubin and they have a son, Darius, born in 2000. And although Google gives 267,000 pages on Christiane, her private life is kept relatively private, unless she chooses to divulge something in an interview. It turns out that a journalist who has such a large public following is also able to maintain a separate life away from the public.

In the end my college graduation was only giving her an honorary degree and she stood up quietly to accept the award and sit back down. Harold Prince was our guest speaker and he was good, but my disappointment has stayed with me through the years only alleviated by all the wealth of information she has on the internet. Her quotes and her personal beliefs make me realize the person she projected as CNN's foreign correspondent is actually the person I always thought she was.

No one can shake the angst filled years of adolescence. I wanted to be as different as possible from everyone else during those times but it turns out we were all the same, going through our unhappy dispositions together. I had Throbbing Gristle on repeat in my Discman (no mp3 players then) in those days. I found them in a used CD shop on a seedy side street in New York. The music was considered British industrial, but it was so much more than that. It was odd, dark, used a lot of synthesizers and not a lot of words to convey mood. A male singer sometimes screamed into a microphone or a girl whispered something ghostly in the background. The music understood exactly what it felt like to be a teenager- it matched the days of rain soaked fall and taking the gray trains to school day in and day out. It was not pretty.

I lost track of my beloved band as I grew up, when other issues like colleges, jobs and responsibility pushed the turmoil out and let the adult in. In a recent New York magazine article, I found that not only was Throbbing Gristle alive and kicking, but the lead singer's wife had died of a heart attack due to stomach cancer complications two years ago. They were in the process of getting plastic surgery to look like each other. It was a work of living art in progress. P-Orridge, whose original name is Neil Megson, said of his late wife, "We fell in love the minute we saw each other, and as we became more and more obsessively in love, we had that whole feeling of 'I wish I could eat you up. I wish I could just take you, and I become you and you become me." Their testament to each other was documented by collages and pictures. It was literally performance art in the making. Though the art was cut short, P-Orridge continues to pay tribute to his wife by scheduling additional surgeries and holding shows at the MOMA and the Tate.

An interesting online interview at boingboing talked further about P-Orridge's and Throbbing Gristle's views on music and art. One surprising thing they noticed was that they had such a huge following. For such an experimental and controversial music group, their concert tickets sold out faster than Bruce Springsteen's. An interviewer asked them about technology, and if they were surprised by the noticeable change between handing out flyers in the seventies to posting on sites such as Twitter and MySpace to get the word out in present day. All the band members agreed that it was a gradual change in technology, so they weren't shocked by the effectiveness. P-Orridge did comment, however, on his first encounter with Twitter and how surprising and powerful just a little piece of information could be. One of the band members had posted that their "flight was delayed in Dallas" and when they all stepped off the plane they were greeted by fans bearing gifts. Apparently the fans managed to find their flight schedule based on this less-than-140-character post. P-Orridge was amazed.

Searching on Twitter about Throbbing Gristle and P-Orridge's art collective brings up thousands of fan postings. From art show openings to music postings to other performance artists sharing the same billing with P-Orridge, the list goes on and on. The New York magazine article is posted on Twitter as well, and it's easy to see why P-Orridge was amazed. Twitter, in one site, provides links for upcoming shows that people wouldn't normally find unless they seek out and subscribe to obscure blogs. It's a meeting point for fans around the world who love them. And, as P-Orridge pointed out, the information goes both ways. Not only can a quick search pull up fan based information, but fans can physically seek out and find the band as well. Because of the Twitter Universe, I will never lose track of them again.