Nostalgia

The customers pour in daily at Noodle World in Alhambra, usually expecting nothing more than a heaping plate of Thai pad see-ew or a steaming bowl of Vietnamese pho. But on occasion, they react the way Martin Moreno did when entering the restaurant for the first time. "Oh my God, there's a Bob's Big Boy," the furniture seller said, staring at a statue of a boy in checkered overalls. "In an Asian restaurant?"

NEW YORK -- Here's what I'll miss most about going to Yankee Stadium: The little slice of right field you see from the 4 train just after it rises out of the tunnel and onto the elevated tracks. It's like a quick taste, an appetizer -- one fast flash of grass and then it's gone. I've been marking my visits here by that tiny vista ever since I first started riding the subway to the ballpark in the 1970s; before that, I don't remember how we got there, just that we did.

Many people who have worked at the Los Angeles County-USC Medical Center can tell tales about the countless souls plucked, Lazarus-like, from death. A veteran security guard can recall a man who leaped from a ledge of the building in a suicide attempt and crashed through a skylight, only to land on a gurney in the emergency room, where doctors saved him. My stories are different.

One day, a little over five years ago, Russ Lease decided that what the world needed was historically accurate, reasonably priced reproductions of Beatles clothing: stitch-for-stitch copies of the distinctive outfits the famous musicians wore in concert. Luckily, Russ was in the position to provide them. He and his brother owned the Pants Plus clothing store in a suburban Maryland mall from 1976 until the mall closed in 2001. Russ knew the clothing industry. And he knew the Beatles.

The long, mournful wail of a 3,000-horsepower diesel locomotive's horn on the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles signaled the end Tuesday of American railroads' "Dinger dynasty." After 43 years in the locomotive cab, third-generation passenger train engineer Tom Dinger pulled into Union Station for the last time. "It's a little bit melancholy," Dinger said as he eased up on the huge engine's black-handled throttle. For nearly 90 years, a Dinger has been at the controls of U.S. passenger trains.

After the Beatles arrived on the scene, Frankie Avalon, whose hit "Venus" was the last No. 1 song of the 1950s, watched sadly as fans ditched syrupy pop for rock 'n' roll. "I figured that was over," the 66-year-old crooner said about his recording career. Avalon went on to star in movies of the beach party genre. His music was relegated to discount bins in record stores and the playlists of oldies stations.

A number of thoughts crossed Bryan Murray's mind as the Ottawa Senators' bus pulled up to the Honda Center on Sunday afternoon. Three years had passed since Murray left the Ducks' organization to coach the Senators and, by a quirk in NHL scheduling, this was his first time back in Anaheim.

OLD-TIME television is making a comeback. Not on television, though. Aided by the neutron star-like cultural gravity of Google's YouTube, an increasing number of vintage TV programs and early commercials are flying out of collectors' closets, ending half a century of exile from the small screen. For members of Generation X-Box, it's a chance to see what prehistoric television looked like, back when it was barely more than "radio with pictures."

Time traveling back to 1960 is not an option, but there are places in Los Angeles that still appreciate the high style of the good old days.

David Gilmore stepped up to the cash register at Rhino Westwood on Sunday, bought a stack of CDs for a song and then broke into a lament. The 37-year-old gave a blunt description of his mood to the cashier at the store he has patronized since he was 12. "Don't get me wrong, I love technology," he added. But the closing of the independent outlet Sunday after more than 30 years is "a travesty," Gilmore said.