Oh, man, I almost forgot the coolest thing that's happened to me lately. Besides seeing Christina Ricci at Ye Rustic Inn. At least I think it was Christina Ricci, but I was fried on Patron, and I recently quit smoking so who knows.
Anyway, me and my S.O. are leaving Griffith Park after a twilight hike (jonesin' for the Observatory to reopen already), and she's all the sudden telling me to pull over, pull over. I'm like, "Cool, a quickie right here by the Greek, kind of weird, Neil Young roadies creeping around, but what the hey", when I see what she sees.
There's a coyote on the lawn right there, snacking on picnic droppings. He's ten feet away, loping slowly along, nose to the ground. Native Americans call him the trickster, or so my S.O. says, and she's into that. But you could see the intelligence in his eyes, and the lack of fear. And I felt respect for him, for just being there, and making it happen in the middle of the city. The trickster. Playing it super cool in Griffith Park.  ¶ 12:45 AM