One set up on the left side of the dais, the other, a late arrival, on the right. He was assembling his camera as the meeting was under way, aiming and focusing about two feet from the elbow of Councilman George Hunter, who was standing there handing out Home Beautification awards.

Councilwoman Paula Lantz interrupted to ask: "Could the cameraman wait until after the presentation to set up the camera? I think it's disrespectful."

"Just doing my job," the operator said, somewhat disrespectfully, while continuing to practice focusing and swiveling.

The day labor center item didn't come up on the agenda until 9:51 p.m. For a change, speakers on both sides of the issue were respectful. The center's budget was trimmed by a modest 10 percent.

Only the cameraman on the left was still there. Sometime around 8 p.m., the cameraman who had made such a fuss had left.

I stuck around until 10:40 p.m., feeling I was in too deep to leave despite the lack of action. After all, my presence requires a complicated setup too, what with opening my notebook and uncapping my pen.

For instance, not one, not two, but three subway or light-rail lines are opening.

All this made me think L.A. could really use another Olympics. Not so much for the prestige of the Games, but just to get itself to focus and tackle some long-standing problems.

Gangs, smog, traffic -- an Olympics could create the civic will to solve them all!

Heck, maybe Montclair should host the Olympics. At least then the MTA would give us the Gold Line.

The posts are a kind of diary of the unnamed writer's lunch outings, heavy on photos, light on text. The photos of the food are fun.

This blog really does cover the Inland Empire -- restaurants from Riverside, Corona, Upland, Ontario, Rancho Cucamonga and good ol' Pomona have received writeups. Whoever the writer is, he/she gets around.

As a final note, "A to Z" taught me a lot about Pomona and since then I've learned how little I knew when I wrote it. Hope you've enjoyed reading, or rereading, these columns anyway.]

Readers 'letter rip' on A to Z

With the 26-part series "Pomona A to Z" having ended, some readers are having trouble letting go.

"Don't you have any more letters?" Pomona Councilman George Hunter asked me after Z for Zanja. "Could you do some diphthongs?"

Complex vowel sounds aside, I'm sorry to see the series end too. After all, for 26 Sundays I always knew where my next column was coming from. Now what?

"Perhaps you should reprise 'A to Z' for all Inland Valley cities," C.J. Fogel, a former newsroom colleague, wrote to suggest. "Or how about 'A to Z' but using Khmer, the world's largest alphabet? Moving on from 'tha,' we now have 'pha'..."

Well, yours truly wrote about pho, so why not pha?

I brought my A-game to "A to Z," hoping to have fun -- and I did -- while nudging people into looking at Pomona in a new light. It was successful, at least up to a point.

Jim Downs, a 28-year resident of Ontario, said he enjoyed reading about the valley's other big city.

"I found out some interesting things about Pomona each week, and I even thought about going to see one or two of them," Downs wrote. "But then I thought, 'It is Pomona!'"

You say that like it's a bad thing.

"An underrated city" is how reader David Fleury described Pomona, and he's got it exactly right.

Fleury, who spent 24 years in Pomona, insisted he learned "so much" from my series, which is quite a compliment. He can't have learned more than I did, though.

I knew very little about Pomona going into "A to Z." Even now I know just a smidge -- but it's a good smidge.

Thanks to everyone who nominated people, places and things, by the way. True, I could have done the series without you. But it would have stunk.

Will there be another "A to Z"? Probably.

Downs, the Ontario resident quoted above, requested an "Ontario A to Z."

With such a series, "we could discover some little-known or forgotten facts about Ontario with which we could wow and amaze our friends in other humdrum communities not nearly as interesting as our area! Whaddaya think?"

It's a great idea, but I do have one worry.

What if people from Pomona refuse to check out the attractions because, after all, "It IS Ontario"?

You may recall that I stole the alphabet concept from a fine, funny PBS documentary by Rick Sebak, "Pittsburgh A to Z."

I recently shipped off all 26 columns to Sebak, who was so excited he wrote me, then called me.

Turns out the Bard of Pittsburgh had already quoted me on the back of the DVD version of "A to Z" (available at www.wqed.org), and how cool is that?

Sebak called my series "totally fun to read" and encouraged me to do more. The "A to Z" concept, incidentally, wasn't even his -- a Pittsburgh museum official suggested it.

"You can't copyright the letters of the alphabet," Sebak added cheerfully. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a marvelous gimmick. Take it and run."

When readers least expect it, I will.

But first, I'll let two of you run with it. Because two separate e-mails from two separate readers took an alphabetical approach to critiquing my series.

Judi Guizado wrote:

"I found your columns to be amazing, beatific, classy, delightful, edifying, first-rate, groovy, heartfelt, interesting, joyful, kindhearted, laudable, masterful, neat-o, orderly, praiseworthy, quirky, reminiscent, scandalous -- oops, sorry, wrong column; that one's for Pomona's self-imposed pay raise -- transcendent, unusual, valiant, well-written, Xeroxable, yatterless and zestful."

Guizado would like to thank the members of the Academy, plus Webster's Thesaurus.

And Ruth Wells chimed in with this:

"Allen's Bulletin Columns Did Effectually Furnish Great Highlights, Interesting Jewels, Knowledge Listing Many Nuances of Pomona's Quintessence -- Restaurants, Specifics of our ethnic citizens, Tableaus of Today, Unforgettable, Valued Works of the past, X-cellent Yarns, Zealously told."

I'm awe-struck, blushing, content, dumbfounded, etc.

Now let's let the alphabet rest a bit. We've given it a heckuva workout.

(David Allen writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday, a workout for your eyes.)

I picked up a copy at Beckham's Bookshop while visiting the City That Care Forgot, having heard good things. I dipped in, liked what I read and bought it. By the time I'd left for home I'd read about half, finishing the back half a few days ago.

Excellent stuff. Rose became a voice for the Crescent City, chronicling the community's collective despair, helplessness and triumph. He defends Mardi Gras, cheers for the Saints and finds a strange sense of excitement when the first stoplight is turned back on. There's also the story of Miss Ellen, his shut-in neighbor who whiled away her time after the hurricane by painting pictures on blown-off roof shingles.

By the end of 2006, where the book ends, Rose was recovering from a near-breakdown, much like his city.

He's rarely angry in his columns but usually direct, empathetic and often very funny.

So, for anyone interested in a ground-level view of New Orleans' recovery, as well as in reading a real columnist for a change (ahem), "1 Dead in Attic" is recommended.

I've passed this combo restaurant on Foothill at D Street probably hundreds of times, but for whatever reason it never occurred to me until a couple of weeks ago that I ought to actually eat there sometime.

I had been inside once. Circa 1998, for a feature story, a photographer and I spent a day driving around the Inland Valley to check out banks that had been converted into other commercial uses. I don't have access to that story, but the La Verne building had been some sort of a bank -- anyone remember which one? -- and the main entrance was then The Bagelry. Sometime in the past few years, Sal's Pizza was added.

(The sign out front advertises the building's two less-visible businesses, Taco Factory and Juice Stop. Because of the strange spacing, I always read the sign in jest as Taco Juice/Factory Stop.)

Anyway. The restaurant seats 87, plus another 20 or so on the patio, so it's quite large. It's pleasant enough, tiled everywhere. A lot of restaurants would envy the generous patio. Speaking of generous, the sprawling menu has bagels, bagel sandwiches, salads, sandwiches on fresh-baked bread, pizza and pasta, and there's an espresso bar.

I had the Route 66, a sandwich of turkey, swiss, tomato, onion and pickle, and got it on a plain bagel, toasted ($5.95-ish), and an iced tea ($2-ish). I didn't expect great things, and didn't receive them, but the sandwich was acceptable. There were several customers, including a young guy on a laptop at the espresso bar and an older couple in a booth, each reading a paperback as they ate silently.

Anyone tried the pizza?

Tuesday evening I took Vineyard to Holt on my way to the Ontario council meeting. A brand-new Starbucks is nearing completion on that corner -- the sign is up. That was a surprise to me. But I did know about a Starbucks under construction at Vineyard and Fourth, replacing a Sizzler. Both operations will be within blocks of the Daily Bulletin and can't be more than a mile apart.

Meanwhile, there's still a Starbucks at Vineyard and Foothill, plus a second one inside Albertsons on the same corner. Both are across the street from Coffee Klatch, which valiantly hangs in there, and good for them.

Dear David,

Once again life as I know it is changed. Thanks for reading.

Hey, thank YOU for sharing, Gail. I suppose Claremont is a long way to go for an onion bagel if you live in Rancho Cucamonga. The only bagel alternative that comes to mind is Bruegger's Bagels in the Ontario Mills food court.

If you can break the onion bagel habit, Panera is certainly Target-adjacent. You might become a fan of Dolce Cafe in Montclair, which has pastries and is a block or so from that city's Target. Or enjoy another pastry shop, the homey Local Baker in downtown Upland.

Anyone have any better ideas for Gail?

I just discovered his blog this week when he wrote about "Things that aren't here anymore," kindly noting yours truly's role as a collector of such ephemera.

Sid wrote a post sharing memories of places he enjoyed growing up like Thriftymart, Value Fair and Magic Tower Burgers. Oh, and a Keds shoe store run by midgets. Good reading, and he even has a few photos.

Start with 909 or Inland Empire and then type in your own searches if you want more.

While most are dopey and kind of mean-spirited, I like the definitions for La Verne and Claremont.

You'll really dig Pomona's letter Z

Zounds! "Pomona A to Z," which began in this space last (gulp) July 18, today finally reaches the 26th letter: Z.

Yes, it's been a zigzag path to Z, but now we're at the zenith of the "A to Z" ziggurat!

Here we can sip zinfandel, munch on zwieback and dance to zydeco music, while reminiscing about the Z Channel and musing about the zeitgeist.

But let's hold the zeal until Z is revealed.

Admittedly, my job would be a lot easier if Pomona had a zoo. But to my surprise, the city is zaftig with Z's:

* Zarzuela, or Spanish musical theater, performed annually at Ganesha Park by (whoa!) the L.A. Opera.

* Jim Zorn, a former quarterback for the Seattle Seahawks who set 10 school records in football at Cal Poly Pomona.

* Tom Zasadzinski, Cal Poly Pomona's official photographer.

* Dorothy Ziolkowski, a hard-workin' volunteer for the Friends of the Pomona Library.

* Zzooms Bail Bonds, located near the police station, the better to zoom in to get you out.

Blow me down with a zephyr!

Our Z, of course, is none of these. Admittedly obscure, this Z was there at the start of Pomona, and it's still there today.

It's zanja.

(No, not ganja, which was there at the start of Jamaica, and is still there today -- zanja.)

Pronounced "sahn-ha," this was the stone-lined ditch that carried water to Pomona's first settlements.

It was dug beginning in 1840 to bring water from San Jose Creek to the adobes for irrigation and personal use.

"It was the first water system," says Mickey Gallivan, president of the Historical Society.

Short segments still exist outside the three remaining adobes: La Casa Primera and Palomares Adobe, which are public, and Alvarado Adobe, which is privately owned.

I learned about the zanja when I visited La Casa Primera (1569 N. Park) for the letter A. Docent Luis Guerrero showed me the ditch in the back.

Going out the way "A to Z" came in, we're back to the beginnings of Pomona.

Two ranchers, Ygnacio Palomares and Ricardo Vejar, were given title to 15,000 acres of former mission land in 1837, when California was still part of Mexico.

Vejar settled in the south. Palomares took the north, building La Casa Primera, the first house in the Pomona Valley.

He soon had a neighbor. He invited his cousin, Ygnacio Alvarado, to build a house a stone's throw away.

(Archaeological note: This stone has not been found.)

Alvarado dug the zanja in 1840. It was enlarged as more settlers moved in and needed water, according to an 1888 report by the state engineer.

Palomares moved to a new, larger home in 1854, now known as Palomares Adobe (491 E. Arrow Highway), and a zanja was dug there, too.

A drought in the early 1860s killed thousands of cattle in California, making vast ranches hard to sustain. Vejar borrowed money at predatory rates and lost his holdings.

Palomares' widow sold 2,000 acres of the homestead in 1874 for $8 an acre to two investors. The sale spelled an end to the Rancho San Jose days -- but paved the way for Pomona!

Investors sold off lots for the fledgling city, which incorporated in 1888 with a population of 3,500.

Progress eventually zonked the zanjas.

"The little ditch that had brought water from San Antonio Canon across the sandy waste lands became tunnels and pipe lines and irrigating ditches ..." wrote Bess Adams Garner and Miriam Colcord Post in a Historical Society pamphlet.

In L.A., a zanja resurfaced, literally, in March 2005. The Zanja Madre ("Mother Ditch"), the city's primary water source from 1781 to 1904, was discovered by the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which was grading land for a rail line.

The 4-foot-wide, brick-lined ditch was quickly reburied out of concern people would develop an interest in history.

In Pomona, the zanjas have been seen by generations of children on field trips to Palomares' two adobes. The adobes are open to the public from 2 to 5 p.m. each Sunday.

The longest zanja is at La Casa Primera. Two feet wide and almost two feet deep, it's lined with rock and has a bottom of dirt and pebbles (and dead leaves and weeds).

The zanja begins at the corner of Park and McKinley, then winds behind the house. It passes under a fig tree reputed to be 150 years old and disappears into the pavement at the rear of the property.

A zanja runs through it.

Hey, that could be a movie!

(David Allen writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday, columns that should be ditched.)

Gazing into my crystal ball, I predict the Times, in its quest to cut pages without harming itself, will have no choice but to drop its Pomona coverage.

Granted, based on stories so far in 2008, that will free up...what? Maybe five column inches per month? I'm a pretty thorough reader and what with a Home feature on a garden, a Calendar piece on an art show, a California feature on the mayor and a couple of other news stories, Pomona has been the subject of perhaps five stories, plus a few briefs, through all of this year.

And this has actually been a good year for Pomona by Times standards. The L.A. County Fair is usually good for one story and maybe a standalone photo. Sometimes that and a couple of briefs is all Pomona gets in a year.

So, it's safe to say the fifth-largest city in L.A. County can be ignored without readers even noticing the difference.

As for what else the Times can cut, any mention of the 909, from Riverside to La Verne, could also go. I read the so-called Inland Empire Edition and it's a rarity to have any Inland Empire news in it. Drop whatever there is, mostly obits of Claremont artists, and you've freed up, oh, two more pages per year, maybe three.

After that, Times, you're on your own. What do I look like, your Innovation Editor?

(Completely seriously: Speaking as a devoted Times reader, 150 jobs is a lot to lose. You could put out an entire newspaper with 150 people. The Daily Bulletin, at its peak, had around 120 newsroom positions, and now it's more like 50, a number of whom are shared with the San Bernardino Sun. So the cuts are in no way a good thing.)

The interior still needs work -- I could see scaffolding through the open front door -- but it can't be long now.

This part of town could really use improvements and attention. It's nice to see the rather sharp-looking supermarket, which replaces an eyesore.

Speaking of attention, the City Council on Monday discussed buying an empty lot just east of the Bekins tower, a welcome sign of interest.

That dull, gray shopping plaza at Indian Hill and Arrow doesn't look very interesting but it has some gustatory gems: Casa Blanca Mexican, Ce Fiore frozen yogurt and KiKiRyKi, which I tried on Wednesday at the urging of a friend who's a fiend for the place.

It's Claremont's other Peruvian restaurant, the finer one being Inka Trails on Foothill near Towne. That place has atmosphere and is a bit pricey. KiKiRyKi is cheaper and you order at the counter, but the food seems every bit as good.

Before you ask, I don't know what the deal is with the upper-lower name, which reminds me of Sarah Jessica Parker's character in "L.A. Story" -- you remember, SanDeE* ("capital S, small A, small N, capital D, small E, capital E, star"). Just as confusing, you walk up to the entrance under the sign and a small sign tells you to use the entrance to the left, which is under a sign reading Pollos.

Well, they specialize in rotisserie chicken, but we skipped it. I had the Lomo Saltado ($9.99) and an Inka Kola in a can ($1.75). My friend got the Lomo Tallarin (also $9.99) and, to split, a fish ceviche ($11.99).

The ceviche was dressed in lime, cilantro and slivered onion, with a hunk of sweet potato on the side. Simple and tasty. Our lomo dishes were beef with chunks of tomato and onion, mine served on papas fritas (french fries), with rice on the side, the other with spaghetti. Mine was quite good. The sole disappointment was the dry rice, but as it was on the side I just left it. The Inka Kola was pleasantly unnatural, tasting like a Fanta soda crossed with bubble gum.

People on Yelp like the place too but, alas, none explain its name. In fact, Yelp calls it Pollos Kikiryki.

If you want linens, sure, you can go to Linens N Things without guilt. But what if you're in the market for things?

That gets dicier, because Upland is home to the sublimely named Thoughts N Things, a much smaller operation that would appear to compete directly for the things market.

Discounted things or mom-and-pop things? Gad, what an ethical dilemma.