Regarding "Sweet Nothings," by Mary Melton (So SoCal, Nov. 3): Debbie Fields and Pepperidge Farm can fry in their own batter for all I care. Van de Kamp's made the best chocolate-chip cookies--period. I'm still grieving.
Katharine L. Waitman
I'm sitting here guarding a closed-down bakery--what used to be the Old Country Bakery in North Hollywood--where at one time the sweet smell of freshly baked goods that filled the air every morning was a pure delight. And the railroad tracks that delivered raw materials for the bakery also are silent. (Thanks to us guards, there is no graffiti, no fires, no blown-out windows here.)
No hostile takeover closed this bakery. The hostility was provided by neighbors who constantly complained about noise and traffic.
Now the residents here can enjoy quiet nights--with a few exceptions. One is the sound of random gunfire; on a recent Friday night, 25 to 30 rounds were counted between 1:30 and 5:30 a.m.
Another is the overhead ambience; at precisely 7 a.m., the quiet is broken by the thundering roar of jet aircraft taking off from Burbank Airport. There's no hearing the radio or TV, no matter how loudly I play them. The noise is even enough to interrupt my reading for as long as it takes the jet to pass by. And the neighbors, no matter how much they complain, seem to be unable to stop the proposed expansion of the airport.
From the magic of fresh bread to the roar and exhaust of huge flying machines. That's progress, L.A. style.