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Liam Delap was one of this summer’s most-wanted strikers.

The 22-year-old scored 12 goals in 37 Premier League games for Ipswich, with his tantalising £30m release clause attracting numerous suitors after the club was relegated back to the Championship.

He was given permission to speak to clubs in May, with Manchester United, Everton, Newcastle and Nottingham Forest all showing serious interest while Manchester City also held a buy-back option on their former player.

But it was Chelsea who won the race for his signature and, speaking before the Blues’ final Club World Cup group game against Es Tunis on Wednesday, Delap has revealed why – including the pull of Europe and rejoining some familiar faces.

“You never know if it is going to be the right decision but you’ve just got to go with your gut and hope it works out,” he said. “You’ve got to take your time. I took a few days to speak to people and decide my future.”

One of those people he consulted was Chelsea’s star attacker Cole Palmer, who he first played with at Manchester City at the age of 15.

Delap added: “I asked him what I needed to ask him, he told me what I needed to know. But I don’t like too much information. Ultimately it was my decision so I kind of just want my head to be clear.”

Palmer has become the poster boy for Chelsea after two sensational seasons and Delap was asked if he hopes to emulate his former academy team-mate.

“Yeah, of course, that’s the goal,” he said. “I think we both had similar positions and he’s gone and smashed it so hopefully I can also.”

Reports in May suggested Manchester United were front runners to sign Delap but their Europa League final defeat by Tottenham, and a poor league campaign, left them without European football next season – with Chelsea’s Champions League qualification playing a part in Delap’s decision.

“It wasn’t the be all and end all because I was also looking towards future seasons but also it helps,” he said.

The son of former Stoke City and Derby County midfielder Rory Delap launched his career at Manchester City under now-Chelsea manager Maresca. He scored 20 goals and won the PL2 player of the season – as he fired the Italian’s Under-21s squad to the title in 2020/21.

“I’ve got a good relationship with the manager,” he said of Maresca. “I know how he plays. I’ve played in this system before. It’s very similar now but with little tweaks. I know a lot of the players here and the project of the club, how they see the future. That’s what excited me.”

Maresca has previously revealed it was Delap’s decision to take the club’s so-called “cursed” number nine shirt.

When asked whether he believes in the curse, which counts Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Romelu Lukaku, Gonzalo Higuain, Alvaro Morata, Radamel Falcao and Fernando Torres among its supposed victims, Delap replied: “No, I’m not that type of person.

“It’s something that people talk about but it doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s something that’s related to strikers so I chose it.”

I used to find airports stressful. I mean, I still do – I’m the sort of person who glides mindlessly through security only to be swiftly apprehended (“Er, madam, why is there a litre of water and four bottles of sun cream in your bag?”). But I find them a little less stressful these days. I put it down to the fact that I mostly travel alone. I can arrive as early or as late as I want, drink as many overpriced coffees as I fancy and not go into total unadulterated panic mode when I grossly underestimate the distance to the gate. Because this is my holiday – and my holiday only!

Travelling solo is a pleasure, a tonic, and occasionally a character-building experience (more on that later …). I started doing it by accident. I was 29 when a friend couldn’t make a trip to Paris at the last minute. I went anyway, and also decided to make my life 500% harder by only speaking French, which I hadn’t done since I’d left university several years earlier. Having this goal also distracted me from the fact that I was visiting museums, galleries and restaurants alone, something that can seem almost taboo in a world set up for couples, pairs and groups.

Luckily, people definitely care less in Europe. I have floated around bars by myself in Barcelona; sampled the best Korean food for one that Toulouse had to offer; gone to the beach solo in Marseille; and almost caused security incidents on various European trains by trailing an illegally large suitcase behind me.

Over the past few years, it has become my thing. The people I used to go on holiday with were getting married, having kids or moving away. I didn’t want to wait for anyone to be free, so I started booking more solo jaunts, figuring that long-term financial stability was overrated anyway, and maybe a little incompatible with the freelance life I had chosen. It felt like a good mix of joyful and nihilistic.

There are challenges, of course, like the time that I had a heinous bout of food poisoning in Montreal, and found myself alternating between throwing up and sobbing (the French did at least help with the cleanup operation). But, travelling by myself is ultimately very freeing. I get to decide my timetable (read: start my days after noon), or maybe even extend my trip.

If I fancy some social time I might book into an art class or go to a language exchange (usually free, if you buy a drink at the bar it’s hosted in). But other than that, I quite like drifting – and starting one of the many books I carry around at home but never read.

I love a group trip, but travelling solo makes me pause, think, and stop nattering for a minute. I’m grateful for the peace – and for Duolingo.

The railroad tunnel in which John Doe #135 was found had spooky graffiti and a dark mystique, the kind of place kids dared each other to walk through at night. People called it the Manson Tunnel — the cult leader and his disciples had lived nearby at the Spahn Movie Ranch — and someone had spray-painted HOLY TERROR over the entrance.

By June 1990, occult-inspired mayhem had become a common theme in the Los Angeles mediasphere. The serial killer known as the Night Stalker, a professed Satanist, had been sentenced to death a year before, and the McMartin Preschool molestation case, with its wild claims of ritual abuse of children, was still slogging through the courts.

So when venturesome local teenagers discovered a young man’s body in the pitch-black tunnel above Chatsworth Park, the LAPD considered the possibility of occult motives. The victim was soon identified as Ronald Baker, a 21-year-old UCLA student majoring in astrophysics. He had been killed on June 21, a day considered holy by occultists, at a site where they were known to congregate.

Ronald Baker in an undated photo.

(Courtesy of Patty Elliott)

Baker was skinny and physically unimposing, with a mop of curly blond hair. He had been to the tunnel before, and was known to meditate in the area. He had 18 stab wounds, and his throat had been slashed. On his necklace: a pentagram pendant. In the bedroom of his Van Nuys apartment: witchcraft books, a pentagram-decorated candle and a flier for Mystic’s Circle, a group devoted to “shamanism” and “magick.”

Headline writers leaned into the angle. “Student killed on solstice may have been sacrificed,” read the Daily News. “Slain man frequently visited site of occultists,” declared The Times.

Baker, detectives learned, had been a sweet-tempered practitioner of Wicca, a form of nature worship that shunned violence. He was shy, introverted and “adamantly against Satanism,” a friend said. But as one detective speculated to reporters, “We don’t know if at some point he graduated from the light to the dark side of that.”

Investigators examine the scene where Ronald Baker’s body was found.

(Los Angeles Police Department )

People said he had no enemies. He loved “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” singalongs, and worked a candle-making booth at Renaissance faires. He had written his sister a birthday card in Elizabethan English.

Had he gone into the hills to meditate and stumbled across practitioners of more malignant magic? He was known as a light drinker, but toxicology results showed he was heavily drunk when he died.

In this series, Christopher Goffard revisits old crimes in Los Angeles and beyond, from the famous to the forgotten, the consequential to the obscure, diving into archives and the memories of those who were there.

Had someone he trusted lured him to the tunnel? How was his death connected to the raspy-voiced man who placed calls to Baker’s father around that time, demanding a $100,000 ransom in exchange for his son’s life?

U.S. Army photo of Nathan Blalock.

(U.S. Army)

Baker’s housemates, Duncan Martinez and Nathan Blalock, both military veterans in their early 20s, had been the last known people to see him alive, and served as each other’s alibis. They said they had dropped him off at a Van Nuys bus stop, and that he had planned to join his Mystic’s Circle friends for the solstice.

There had been no sign of animosity between the roommates, and Baker considered Martinez, an ex-Marine, one of his best friends. They had met working at Sears, years earlier.

Martinez helped to carry Baker’s casket and spoke movingly at his memorial service at Woodland Hills United Methodist Church. His friend was “never real physically strong, like a lot of the guys I know,” Martinez said, but was the “friendliest, sweetest guy.”

His voice filled with emotion. “He would talk to anybody and be there for anybody at the drop of a dime,” Martinez continued. “And I just hope that it’s something I can get over, because I love him. It’s just hard to think of a time without Ron.”

But something about the roommates’ story strained logic. When Baker’s father had alerted them to the ransom calls, the roommates said they had looked for him at Chatsworth Park, knowing it was one of Baker’s favorite haunts. Why would they assume a kidnapper had taken him there?

Duncan Martinez in an LAPD interview room.

(Los Angeles Police Department)

There was another troubling detail: Martinez had cashed a $109 check he said Baker had given him, but a handwriting expert determined that Baker’s signature was forged.

Martinez agreed to a polygraph test, described his friend’s murder as “a pretty unsensible crime” and insisted he had nothing to do with it. “I’ve never known anybody to carry a grudge or even dislike Ron for more than a minute, you know,” Martinez said.

The test showed deception, and he fled the state. He was gone for nearly 18 months.

He turned up in Utah, where he was arrested on a warrant for lying on a passport application. He had been hoping to reinvent himself as “Jonathan Wayne Miller,” an identity he had stolen from a toddler who died after accidentally drinking Drano in 1974, said LAPD Det. Rick Jackson, now retired. Jackson said Martinez sliced the child’s death certificate out of a Massachusetts state archive, hoping to disguise his fraud.

In February 1992, after being assured his statement could not be used against him, Martinez finally talked. He said it had been Blalock’s idea. They had been watching an old episode of “Dragnet” about a botched kidnapping. Martinez was an ex-Marine, and Blalock was ex-Army. With their military know-how, they believed they could do a better job.

They lured Baker to the park with a case of beer and the promise of meeting girls, and Blalock stabbed him with a Marine Corps Ka-Bar knife Martinez had lent him. Baker begged Martinez for help, and Martinez responded by telling his knife-wielding friend to finish the job.

“I told him to make sure that it was over, because I didn’t want Ron to suffer,” Martinez said. “I believe Nathan slit his throat a couple of times.” He admitted to disguising his voice while making ransom calls to Baker’s father.

But he never provided a location to deliver the ransom money. The scheme seemed as harebrained as it was cruel, and Martinez offered little to lend clarity. He sounded as clueless as anyone else, or pretended to be. “You know, it doesn’t completely click with me either,” he said.

“They ruined their lives, and all of the families’ lives, with the stupidest crime,” Patty Baker Elliott, the victim’s elder sister, told The Times in a recent interview.

Ronald and Patty Baker at her college graduation in the 1980s.

(Courtesy of Baker family)

In the end, the occult trappings were a red herring, apparently intended to throw police off the scent of the real culprits and the real motive.

The killers “set this thing up for the summer solstice, because they knew he wanted to be out, hopefully celebrating the solstice,” Jackson said in a recent interview. “What are the chances, of all the days, this is the one they choose to do it on?”

Jackson, one of the two chief detectives on the case, recounts the investigation in his book “Black Tunnel White Magic: A Murder, a Detective’s Obsession, and ‘90s Los Angeles at the Brink,” which he wrote with author and journalist Matthew McGough.

Blalock was charged with murder. To the frustration of detectives, who believed him equally guilty, Martinez remained free. His statements, given under a grant of immunity, could not be used against him.

Det. Rick Jackson in the LAPD’s Robbery Homicide Division squad room.

(Los Angeles Police Department )

“I almost blame Duncan more, because he was in the position, as Ron’s best friend, to stop this whole thing and say, ‘Wait a minute, Nathan, what the hell are we talking about here?’” Jackson said. “He didn’t, and he let it go through, and what happened, happened.”

Martinez might have escaped justice, but he blundered. Arrested for burglarizing a Utah sporting goods store, he claimed a man had coerced him into stealing a mountain bike by threatening to expose his role in the California murder.

As a Salt Lake City detective recorded him, Martinez put himself at the scene of his roommate’s death while downplaying his guilt — an admission made with no promise of immunity, and therefore enough to charge him.

“That’s the first time we could legally put him in the tunnel,” Jackson said.

Jurors found both men guilty of first-degree murder, and they were sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.

In June 2020, Baker’s sister was startled to come across a news site reporting that Gov. Gavin Newsom had intervened to commute Martinez’s sentence, making him eligible for parole. No one had told her. The governor’s office said at the time that Martinez had “committed himself to self-improvement” during his quarter-century in prison.

The news was no less a shock to Jackson, who thought the language of the commutation minimized Martinez’s role in concocting the kidnapping plan that led to the murder. He said he regarded Martinez as a “pathological liar,” and one of the most manipulative people he’d met in his long career.

Martinez had not only failed to help Baker, but had urged Blalock to “finish him off” and then posed as a consoling friend to the grieving family. The victim’s sister remembers how skillfully Martinez counterfeited compassion.

“He hugged everybody and talked to everybody at the service,” she said. “He cried. He got choked up and cried during his eulogy.”

A prosecutor intended to argue against Martinez’s release at the parole hearing, but then-newly elected L.A. Dist. Atty. George Gascon instituted a policy forbidding his office from sending advocates. The victim’s sister spoke of her loss. Jackson spoke of Martinez’s gift for deception.

“It was like spitting into the wind,” Jackson said.

The parole board sided with Martinez, and he left prison in April 2021. Blalock remains behind bars.

Rick Jackson and Matthew McGough, authors of “Black Tunnel White Magic.”

(JJ Geiger)

For 35 years now, the retired detective has been reflecting on the case, and the senselessness at its core. Jackson came to think of it as a “folie à deux” murder, a term that means “madness of two” and refers to criminal duos whose members probably would not have done it solo. He regarded it as “my blue-collar Leopold and Loeb case,” comparing it to the wealthy Chicago teenagers who murdered a boy in 1924 with the motive of committing the perfect crime.

An old cop show about a kidnapping had provoked the two young vets to start bouncing ideas off each other, until a plan took shape to try it themselves. They weighed possible targets. The student they shared an apartment with, the Wiccan pacifist without enemies, somehow seemed a convenient one.

“You have to understand their personalities, especially together,” Jackson said. “It’s kind of like, ‘I’m gonna one-up you, and make it even better.’ One of them would say, ‘Yeah, we could do this instead.’ And, ‘Yeah, that sounds cool, but I think we should do this, too.’”

Anne Burrell, the quick-witted host of Food Network’s “Worst Cooks in America,” has died. She was 55.

The television personality died Tuesday morning at her home in New York, according to her publicist.

“Anne was a beloved wife, sister, daughter, stepmother and friend — her smile lit up every room she entered,” Burrell’s family said in a statement. “Anne’s light radiated far beyond those she knew, touching millions across the world. Though she is no longer with us, her warmth, spirit and boundless love remain eternal.”

Born and raised in Cazenovia, N.Y., Burrell, inspired by her mother and celebrity chef Julia Child, expressed an interest in food from a young age. She earned her degree in English and communication at Canisius College in Buffalo, N.Y., and later attended the Culinary Institute of America.

During her time on Food Network, Burrell was best known for her Italian cuisine — particularly pasta — and competitive fire. She got her start on TV as a sous-chef for Mario Batali on “Iron Chef America,” where she honed her skills in competition cooking before launching her own cooking show, “Secrets of a Restaurant Chef,” in 2008.

“Anne was a remarkable person and culinary talent — teaching, competing and always sharing the importance of food in her life and the joy that a delicious meal can bring. Our thoughts are with Anne’s family, friends and fans during this time of tremendous loss,” said a Food Network spokesperson.

Burrell had been a steady presence on the network, competing in “The Next Iron Chef,” “Chopped,” “Guy’s Grocery Games” and “Beat Bobby Flay.” She was also a longtime host and mentor on “Worst Cooks in America,” where she coached teams of novice cooks as they competed while improving their culinary skills. She had various co-hosts since 2010 during the show’s 28-season run.

Most recently, she appeared in the first season of “House of Knives,” a seemingly “Game of Thrones”-inspired reality series, hosted by Scott Conant, where she was among the top chefs competing to sit on the culinary throne.

Burrell authored two cookbooks: New York Times bestseller “Cook Like a Rock Star” (2011) and “Own Your Kitchen: Recipes to Inspire & Empower” (2013).

She is survived by her husband, Stuart Claxton; stepson, Javier; mother, Marlene; siblings, Jane and Ben; nieces, Isabella and Amelia; and nephew, Nicolas.

Tracy Brown contributed to this report.

Brian Gavidia had stepped out from working on a car at a tow yard in a Los Angeles suburb Thursday, when armed, masked men — wearing vests with “Border Patrol” on them — pushed him up against a metal gate and demanded to know where he was born.

“I’m American, bro!” 29-year-old Gavidia pleaded, in video taken by a friend.

“What hospital were you born?” the agent barked.

“I don’t know, dawg!” he said. “East L.A., bro! I can show you: I have my f—ing Real ID.”

His friend, whom Gavidia did not name, narrated the video: “These guys, literally based off of skin color! My homie was born here!” The friend said Gavidia was being questioned “just because of the way he looks.”

In a statement Saturday, Homeland Security Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin said U.S. citizens were arrested “because they ASSAULTED U.S. Border Patrol Agents.” (McLaughlin’s statement emphasized the word “assaulted” in all-capital and boldfaced letters.)

When told by a reporter that Gavidia had not been arrested, McLaughlin clarified that Gavidia had been questioned by Border Patrol agents but there “is no arrest record.” She said a friend of Gavidia’s was arrested for assault of an officer.

As immigration operations have unfolded across Southern California in the last week, lawyers and advocates say people are being targeted because of their skin color. The encounter with Gavidia and others they are tracking have raised legal questions about enforcement efforts that have swept up hundreds of immigrants and shot fear into the deeply intertwined communities they call home.

Agents picking up street vendors without warrants. American citizens being grilled. Home Depot lots swept. Car washes raided. The wide-scale arrests and detainments — often in the region’s largely Latino neighborhoods — contain hallmarks of racial profiling and other due process violations.

“We are seeing ICE come into our communities to do indiscriminate mass arrests of immigrants or people who appear to them to be immigrant, largely based on racial profiling,” said Eva Bitran, a lawyer at ACLU of Southern California.

When asked about the accusations of racial profiling, the White House deflected.

Calling the questions “shameful regurgitations of Democrat propaganda by activists — not journalists,” White House spokeswoman Abigail Jackson chided The Times reporters Saturday for not reporting the “real story — the American victims of illegal alien crime and radical Democrat rioters willing to do anything to keep dangerous illegal aliens in American communities.”

She did not answer the question.

McLaughlin said in a statement, “Any claims that individuals have been ‘targeted’ by law enforcement because of their skin color are disgusting and categorically FALSE.”

She said the suggestion fans the flames and puts agents in peril.

“DHS enforcement operations are highly targeted, and officers do their due diligence,” she said. “We know who we are targeting ahead of time. If and when we do encounter individuals subject to arrest, our law enforcement is trained to ask a series of well-determined questions to determine status and removability.

“We will follow the President’s direction and continue to work to get the worst of the worst criminal illegal aliens off of America’s streets,” she said.

Customs and Border Protection officers are stationed at the federal building in Los Angeles on Friday.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

The unprecedented show of force by federal agents follows orders from White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller, the architect of Trump’s immigration plan and a Santa Monica native, to execute 3,000 arrests a day. In May, Miller reportedly directed top ICE officials to go beyond target lists and have agents make arrests at Home Depot or 7-Eleven convenience stores.

U.S. Customs and Border Protection did not answer specific questions about the encounter with Gavidia and said that immigration enforcement has been “targeted.” The agency did not explain what is meant by targeted enforcement.

But a federal criminal complaint against Javier Ramirez, another of Gavidia’s friends, said Border Patrol agents were conducting a “roving patrol” in Montebello around 4:30 p.m. when they “engaged a subject in a consensual encounter” in a parking lot on West Olympic Boulevard. The complaint noted that the parking lot is fenced and gated, but that, at the time of the interaction, the gate to the parking lot was open.

The enforcement was part of a roving patrol in what John B. Mennell, a spokesman for Customs and Border Protection, said was a “lawful immigration enforcement operation” in which agents also arrested “without incident” an immigrant without legal status.

Gavidia said he and Ramirez both rent space at the tow yard to fix cars.

On video captured by a security camera at the scene, the agents pull up at the open gate in a white SUV and three agents exit the car. At least one covers his face with a mask as they walk into the property and begin looking around. Shortly after, an agent can be seen with one man in handcuffs calmly standing against the fence, while Ramirez can be heard shouting and being wrestled to the ground.

Gavidia walks up on the scene from the sidewalk outside the business where agents are parked. Seeing the commotion, he turns around. An agent outside the business follows him and then another does.

Gavidia, whom Mennell identified as a third person, was detained “for investigation for interference (in an enforcement operation) and released after being confirmed to be a U.S. citizen with no outstanding warrants.”

“Video didn’t show the full story,” he said in a statement.

But it is unclear from the video exactly what that interference is. And Gavidia denies interfering with any operations.

CBP, the agency that has played a prominent role in the recent sweeps, is also under a federal injunction in Central California after a judge found it had engaged in “a pattern and practice” of violating people’s constitutional rights in raids earlier this year.

U.S. Border Patrol Sector Chief Greg Bovino, who oversaw raids that included picking people up at Home Depot and stopping them on the highway, has emerged as a key figure in L.A. He stood alongside Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem on Thursday at a news conference where Sen. Alex Padilla — the state’s first Latino U.S. senator — was handcuffed, forced to the ground and briefly held after interrupting Noem with a question.

“A lot of bad people, a lot of bad things are in our country now,” Bovino said. “That’s why we’re here right now, is to remove those bad people and bad things, whether illegal aliens, drugs or otherwise, we’re here. We’re not going away.”

Bovino said hundreds of Border Patrol agents have fanned out and are on the ground in L.A. carrying out enforcement.

A federal judge for the Eastern District of California ordered Bovino’s agency to halt illegal stops and warrantless arrests in the district after agents detained and arrested dozens of farmworkers and laborers — including a U.S. citizen — in the Central Valley shortly before President Trump took office.

The lawsuit, brought by the United Farm Workers and Central Valley residents, accused the agency of brazenly racial profiling people in a days-long enforcement. It roiled the largely agricultural area, after video circulated of agents slashing the tires of a gardener who was a citizen on his way to work, and it raised fears that those tactics could become the new norm there.

The effort was “proof of concept,” David Kim, assistant chief patrol agent under Bovino, told the San Diego investigative outfit Inewsource in March. “Testing our capabilities, and very successful. We know we can push beyond that limit now as far as distance goes.”

Bovino said at the news conference that his agents were “not going anywhere soon.”

“You’ll see us in Los Angeles. You’ll continue to see us in Los Angeles,” he said.

Bitran, who is working on the case in the Central Valley, said Miller’s orders have “set loose” agents “with a mandate to capture as many people as possible,” and that “leads to them detaining people in a way that violates the Constitution.”

In Montebello, a 78% Latino suburb that shares a border with East Los Angeles, Border Patrol agents took Gavidia’s identification. Although they eventually let him go, Ramirez, also American and a single father of two, wasn’t so lucky.

Tomas De Jesus, Ramirez’s cousin and his attorney, said authorities are accusing him of “resisting arrest, assaulting people” after agents barged into a private business, “without a warrant, without a probable cause.”

“What is the reasonable suspicion for him to be accosted?” De Jesus questioned. “What is the probable cause for them to be entering into a private business area? … At this moment, it seems to me like they have a blanket authority almost to do anything.”

Ramirez has been charged in a federal criminal complaint with assaulting, resisting or impeding a federal officer. Authorities allege that Ramirez was trying to conceal himself and then ran toward the exit and refused to answer questions about his identity and citizenship. They also allege he pushed and bit an agent.

Montebello Mayor Salvador Melendez said he’d watched the video and called the situation “extremely frustrating.”

“It just seems like there’s no due process,” he said. “They’re going for a specific look, which is a look of our Latino community, our immigrant community. They’re asking questions after. … This is not the country that we all know it to be, where folks have individual rights and protections.”

A third individual was detained on the street for investigation for interference and released after being confirmed to be a U.S. citizen with no outstanding warrants.

Even before the video was looping on social media feeds, Angelica Salas — who heads one of the most well-established immigration advocacy groups in Los Angeles — said she was getting reports of “indiscriminate” arrests and American citizens being questioned and detained.

“We have U.S. citizens who are being asked for their documents and not believed when they attest to the fact that they are U.S. citizens,” said Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights. “They just happen to be Latino.”

The Supreme Court has long held that law enforcement officers cannot detain people based on generalizations that would cast a wide net of suspicion on large segments of the law-abiding population.

“Some of the accounts I have heard suggest that they’re just stopping a whole bunch of people, and then questioning them all to find out which ones might be unlawfully present,” said Ahilan Arulanantham, co-director of the Center for Immigration Law and Policy at UCLA Law School.

An agent can ask a person about “anything,” he said. But if the person declines to speak, the agent cannot detain them unless they have reasonable suspicion that the individual is unlawfully here.

“The 4th Amendment as well as governing immigration regulations do not permit immigration agents to detain somebody against their will, even for a very brief time, absent reasonable suspicion,” he said.

Just being brown doesn’t qualify. And being a street vendor or farmworker does not, either. A warrant to search for documents at a work site also is not enough to detain someone there.

“The agents appear to be flagrantly violating these immigration laws,” he said, “all over Southern California.”

Gavidia said the agents who questioned him in Montebello never returned his Real ID.

“I’m legal,” he said. “I speak perfect English. I also speak perfect Spanish. I’m bilingual, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be picked out, like, ‘This guys seems Latino; this guy seems a little bit dirty.’

“It was the worst experience I ever felt,” Gavidia said, his voice shaking with anger as he spoke from the business Friday. “I felt honestly like I was going to die.”

On Saturday, Gavidia joined De Jesus in downtown L.A. for his first-ever protest.

Now, he said, it felt personal.

Brian Gavidia was at work on West Olympic Boulevard in Montebello at about 4:30 p.m. Thursday when he was told immigration agents were outside of his workplace.

Gavidia, 29, was born and raised in East Los Angeles and fixes and sells cars for a living. He said he stepped outside. And saw four to six agents.

Within seconds, he said, one of them — wearing a vest with “Border Patrol Federal Agent” written on the back — approached him.

“Stop right there,” he said the agent told him. Then the agent questioned whether Gavidia was American.

“I’m an American citizen,” Gavidia said he told the agent at least three times.

Despite his responses, the agent pushed him into a metal gate, put his hands behind his back and asked him what hospital he was born in, Gavidia said.

Rattled by the encounter, he said he couldn’t remember the hospital.

Video taken by a friend shows two agents holding Gavidia against a blue fence. He tells them they are twisting his arm.

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“I’m American, bro!” Gavidia said in the video.

“What hospital were you born?” the agent asked again, this time recorded in the video.

“I don’t know dawg!” he said. “East L.A. bro! I can show you: I have my f—ing Real ID.”

His friend, who Gavidia did not name, narrated the video. As the incident continued, he said: “These guys, literally based off of skin color! My homie was born here!” The friend said Gavidia was being questioned “just because of the way he looks. “

Gavidia said he gave the Border Patrol agent his Real ID, but the agent never returned it to him. The agent also took his phone and kept it for 20 minutes, he said, before finally returning it.

Even after the agent saw his ID, Gavidia said, he never apologized.

In a response to questions from the Times, U.S. Customs and Border Protection did not answer questions about the encounter with Gavidia.

The agency said in a statement that it is “conducting targeted immigration enforcement in support of ICE operations across the Los Angeles area. Enforcing immigration law is not optional — it’s essential to protecting America’s national security, public safety, and economic strength.”

The statement continued: “Every removal of an illegal alien helps restore order and reinforce the rule of law.”

Pressed by The Times for answers about that specific encounter, a CBP spokesperson said: “The statement provided is the only info available about the operation at this time.”

The Department of Homeland Security did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Gavidia said another friend was arrested that afternoon at the same location. His name is Javier Ramirez, and he, too, is an American citizen. Tomas De Jesus, Ramirez’s cousin and his attorney, said immigration agents had entered a private business, “without a warrant without a probable cause, to warrant entering into a place like that.”

De Jesus said his cousin began alerting people to the presence of the agents. He said he only learned of his cousin’s whereabouts on Friday afternoon and said authorities are accusing him of “resisting arrest, assaulting people.”

“We’re still conducting an investigation to really understand and ascertain the facts of the case,” De Jesus said. De Jesus said he called the Metropolitan Detention Center and identified himself as an attorney wishing to speak with his client, but he was told attorneys were not allowed to see their clients at the moment.

“I was not given permission, I was not given access to even speak to him on the phone,” he said.

Montebello Mayor Salvador Melendez, who watched video of the encounter with Gavidia, called the situation “just extremely frustrating.

“It just seems like there’s no due process,” he said. “They’re just getting folks that look like our community and taking them and questioning them.”

Melendez said he got a call from a resident when immigration agents were on Olympic Boulevard. Melendez said he heard they were going out to other locations in the city, too.

“They’re going for a specific look, which is a look of our Latino community, our immigrant community,” he said.

Gavidia said his mother is Colombian and his father is Salvadoran. They are American citizens.

“He violated my rights as an American citizen,” Gavidia said, his voice shaking with anger as he spoke over the phone from his business Friday. “It was the worst experience I ever felt. I felt honestly like I was going to die. He literally racked a chamber in his AR-15.”

Gavidia‘s clothes were dirty from work, and he said he figured that’s partly why agents questioned him.

“I’m legal,” he said. “I speak perfect English. I also speak perfect Spanish. I’m bilingual, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be picked out, like ‘This guys seems Latino; this guy seems a little bit dirty.’ I’m working, guys. I’m an American. We work. I’m Latino. We work.”

He added: “It’s just scary, walking while brown, walking while dirty, coming home from work, there’s a high chance you might get picked up.”

Gavidia said he still doesn’t have his Real ID back. He went to the Department of Motor Vehicles Friday morning and said immigration agents had stolen his ID. He said he was told he would need to reapply for another one.

“He took my ticket to freedom,” Gavidia said.

It’s 7 p.m. on a Thursday at the driving range at the Westside’s Rancho Park Golf Course.

At one end of the raised platform, the stalls are mostly occupied by polo shirt-wearing men quietly practicing their swings. But at the other end, a crowd gathers. People of all backgrounds are vibing to hip-hop and Afrobeats playing over two portable speakers and socializing over beer and snacks from the food stand. They’re dressed in streetwear and stylish sports apparel — Jordan 1s, fitted caps, tennis skirts and baggy pants. One woman is wearing tall platform boots and a patterned skirt and hugging friends. When someone steps up to take a swing, others watch and offer support and pointers.

“Remember to breathe,” someone says.

“Relax your grip,” advises another.

Aspiring golf pro Rob Perea, right, teaches beginning golfers during a Swang golf event.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Not your typical golf meetup, this is Swang, an L.A. golf collective that hosts a regular gathering called “Free Range,” where attendees can receive casual guidance from longtime golfers — and just hang out. With the welcoming motto “pull up, tap in,” founder Modi Oyewole created Swang to provide a space for the golf-curious and those who’ve been searching for like-minded folks to play with in the historically white- and male-dominated sport. He says that for generations, entering the world of golf has been both financially and culturally difficult.

“When I ask people how they found out about us, a lot of the stories are the same,” says Oyewole, 38. “People never felt like this was a thing they could do. But with this, we are quite literally saying, f— all that. We can do this too. You can wear what you want. You can be you and still come play.”

Swang golf collective founder Modi Oyewole, left, with Juliet Udeochu.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

A small camera crew follows Oyewole, who is wearing a Toro y Moi T-shirt, cargos and Adidas sneakers, capturing content for Swang’s social media accounts. He takes a powerful swing, sending the ball flying onto the field. You’d think that he’s been playing for years, but golf is a new passion for the multifaceted creative who’s worked at various record labels and for brands like Nike and Redbull.

Oyewole’s father introduced him to the sport about 20 years ago during the height of Tiger Woods’ career. “I think seeing a Black person in this sport that’s predominantly white and him dominating it definitely got my dad like, ‘Alright, we can do this now. We have representation,’” Oyewole recalls. His dad began taking him and his younger brother to a public driving range in their District of Columbia neighborhood until it shut down.

Oyewole didn’t think about golf again until several years later, when one of his friends invited him to the Hypegolf Invitational hosted by Hypebeast in Santa Clarita — an invitation he accepted begrudgingly, he says. But what he saw surprised him.

“This was my first time experiencing golf in it’s entirety, ever. I’d never been to a golf course, let alone a very fancy country club, and I’d also never seen golf presented in this way,” he recalls.

One of the first people he saw at Hypegolf was rapper Macklemore, who was rocking a clothing collaboration between his golf line Bogey Boys and Adidas. Every hole on the course was sponsored by a different brand. DJs were spinning upbeat music, and all of the attendees were, in Oyewole’s words, “swaggy.”

Blaise Butler of Los Angeles sets up a golf ball on the tee, left, while attendees pose for photos. Swang’s Instagram bio reads that it’s a community for those “who were never invited — but always belonged.”

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

He was also amazed to run into several people within his orbit who he didn’t know played golf. “It was just one of those moments where I was like, ‘Wait, I feel like they figured out a way to make this digestible to a person like me,’” says Oyewole. “It was eye-opening because it taught me that the game was cool, and it wasn’t the game that I was upset at. It was the context surrounding the game.”

A few weeks later, Oyewole quit his job as the vice president of creative, experiential and content development at Def Jam Recording. With his newfound free time, he started playing golf at the Maggie Hathaway Golf Course in South Central — named after a longtime civil rights activist who helped break the color barrier on L.A.’s public golf courses — with a friend who gifted him hand-me-down clubs. Before long, he was hooked.

He hosted the first Swang event in August 2023 at the Rancho Park driving range. Oyewole and two of his friends brought a speaker to play music, along with golf clubs and balls for attendees to practice with. About 25 people showed up, including a few golf influencers like Jacques Slade and Loulou Gonzalez — some of whom had never played golf before and others who’ve been playing their whole lives.

“Just seeing that was magical, but I think what was more magical than that was hearing these longtime golfers say, “Man, I’ve been golfing forever and I’ve never seen anything like this,” Oyewole says. “You’re not going to see this makeup of people in this size at the driving range. It doesn’t happen. Golf doesn’t look like this.”

Swang arrives in L.A. at a time when golf is booming in popularity post-pandemic, particularly among women and young people. Although golf has long been perceived as a sport that “older” people play, the National Golf Foundation revealed that in 2024, the largest group of on-course golfers — nearly 6.3 million players — were between the ages of 18 to 34. Since 2019, there’s been a 41% increase of female golfers, the NGF reports, and every year since 2020, roughly 3.3 million people have hit the course for the first time. The surge can be credited to content creators and YouTubers amplifying the sport online, trendy apparel brands, shows like “Full Swing” on Netflix, nightlife-adjacent establishments like TopGolf and collectives like Swang who are introducing the sport to a new demographic.

A crowd fills the top level of the driving range.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Swang attracts roughly 75 to 100 regular attendees at each Free Range session. Among them are creatives, musicians, entrepreneurs, tech professionals, actors, marketers and more.

Although some people bring their own golf gear to the meetups, none is required. It’s also “a safe place to suck,” Oyewole says.

Prior to discovering Swang, Adil Kadir’s only experience with the sport was going to TopGolf, but it was something he wanted to get better at. As someone who worked in the tech industry, he viewed golfing as a “language” or entry point that could improve his “ability to integrate into the world of business.”

But through Swang, he discovered that golfing was also fun. “Nothing can really stimulate the amount of dopamine you get from actually hitting the ball the right way,” he says.

Beginning golfers get individual instruction.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Stacey Esteban was nervous about attending Free Range for the first time because of negative experiences she had at other golf ranges in L.A.

“I’ll hear side comments from other people who don’t look like me, and they’re trying to give me lessons that I never asked for, and it doesn’t feel safe for me. But here, I was like, ‘It’s safe,’ ” says Esteban, who started playing golf during the pandemic. “These are people I’d want to talk to and hang out with.”

Josh Hubberman, 43, has been playing golf on and off since he was a child, but he didn’t get back into the sport until he went to a Swang meetup last year. “Driving ranges are often quiet [with] two people in a bay, and you’re kind of just politely waiting for a bay to open,” says Hubbeman, who is the co-founder of the creative venture studio Cthdrl. “Then when you show up at Swang, we have music playing. We take over 10-plus bays, and it’s a big social event as well, so there’s an energy that immediately, you get on site and it’s like, ‘Oh, that’s got to be Swang!’ ” About a year later, Hubberman reached out to Oyewole about teaming up with Cthdrl and working together to turn Swang into a viable business.

Swang is already making an impact on the golf industry in L.A. and beyond. In August, the collective programmed the music at an exclusive TopGolf event featuring rapper Larry June. Earlier this year, Swang partnered with the Rolling Loud music festival to co-produce a golf invitational and release a capsule collection. Swang also hosted a tournament in L.A. called Spicoli’s Scramble — in honor of Oyewole’s late best friend — and raised $20,000 for the Grammy Museum and Recording Academy’s Quinn Coleman scholarship.

The larger vision for Swang, Oyewole says, is to continue hosting the Free Range sessions and eventually add a membership component that would allow members to access exclusive events and experiences such as group trips to golf tournaments around the globe. The collective recently started creating short- and long-form social media content, and they will debut their first Swang apparel piece at Paris Fashion Week later this month.

Back at the driving range, chill R&B music is playing, and a handful of attendees are taking their final swings for the night before the overhead lights at the range shut off.

Reni Somoye, 32, was about to leave, but she decides to stay after another attendee encourages her to hit the ball one last time. She’s been watching other people throughout the night and realized that she needed to swing more powerfully. When it’s her turn, she walks toward the edge of the stall, pauss, swings and then strikes the ball so hard it flies out onto the field. The group that was mingling nearby begins to cheer.

She turns around, smiling from ear to ear, and daps up the coach.

“Alright,” she says. “Alright, that was good!”

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Hundreds of eighth-graders in freshly ironed button-down shirts and flowing dresses filed into Andrew Carnegie Middle School with their families Tuesday morning in high spirits.

But the graduation festivities at the school in Carson had an ominous undertone, as word had spread ahead of the event that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement might make an unwanted appearance.

Nervous parents and educators browsed apps dedicated to tracking ICE activity, refreshed their social media feeds and conferred with one another about the latest rumors. Some students who had been expected to attend the event did not come to the stage when their names were called. They had chosen to stay home out of fear that they or their loved ones would be detained.

Similar scenes have played out repeatedly across Los Angeles County in recent days, with the Trump administration deploying swarms of federal agents to detain immigrants.

Jacob Johnson, left, walks with his family after graduating as valedictorian from Andrew Carnegie Middle School in Carson on Tuesday. The arrival time for graduates and their family was moved up at the school to avoid potential confrontations with ICE.

In neighborhoods with large populations of foreign-born people across the region, every commute, trip to the grocery store or school drop-off has come to represent another potential final moment in lives built in this country.

In the span of just a few hours Tuesday, unverified messages posted online rapidly spread warnings about ICE agents being spotted near schools, hotels and hardware stores, leading to panic and disruption.

At Carnegie, the prospect of a raid was all anyone could talk about.

The school had sent out a message ahead of the event informing parents and students that “all guests will be admitted onto campus immediately — no waiting outside — due to ongoing concerns in our community related to the Department of Homeland Security (ICE).”

Mekeisha Madden Toby, 48, was there Tuesday morning to celebrate the graduation of her 14-year-old daughter, Zoe.

“It’s bittersweet because it’s supposed to be a celebration moment and it kind of got overshadowed by fear,” the mother said. “Your friend or your friend’s abuela could get snatched. You have to be aware, and you can’t even fully celebrate a graduation without thinking about it.”

“It’s not fair for these kids to put all this time and effort into school only to have to be concerned about their safety,” said Gardena High School junior Chris Alvarez, left, next to his cousin, Gardena High School graduate Anthony Garcia, 18, in Gardena on Tuesday.

Federal agents — often in plainclothes and unmarked vehicles — have raided L.A. County businesses, homes and even an underground nightclub in recent weeks, detaining scores of people in the process, including children.

Earlier this month, ICE detained a Torrance Elementary School fourth-grader, who was transferred to an immigration facility in Texas. Federal officials have since deported the 9-year-old and his father to Honduras.

Multiple recent incidents captured on video showed ICE agents in L.A. County confronting people on the streets — seemingly at random in some cases — and quickly whisking them away, offering no explanation to shocked loved ones and onlookers. Footage reviewed by The Times showed a Sunday raid in which unidentified law enforcement agents detained a fruit vendor in Westchester.

“They had him pressed down on the ground, they had weapons drawn so no one could get near to help him. It just looked like he had been kidnapped,” said witness Yuliza Barraza, 45. “Everyone was in shock and awe.”

White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said during a press briefing Wednesday that 330 people had been arrested since Friday in the immigration sweeps in ICE’s Los Angeles Area of Responsibility, which stretches from San Luis Obispo to San Diego.

ICE shared photos on social media Tuesday showing armed members of the military accompanying immigration agents on L.A. raids. In recent days, Trump announced that he was sending a total of 700 U.S. Marines and 4,000 National Guard troops to L.A. to respond to protests and support federal operations.

Gov. Gavin Newsom and L.A. Mayor Karen Bass have demanded a detente, but to no avail. Bass called on Trump to “stop the raids” during a news conference Tuesday.

“We never know when, we never know how long” they will be, she said. “But that very notion creates such a terrible sense of fear in our city, and it’s just not right to do that to a population who’s trying to survive.”

Two Times journalists spent most of the day criss-crossing L.A. County’s southern reaches to document the disruption and trauma caused by the omnipresent specter of ICE. Following alerts shared on an assortment of online platforms, the journalists visited communities with significant foreign-born populations, such as Carson, Torrance, Gardena, Compton, Bell Gardens, and Long Beach, and nearby neighborhoods in the city of L.A.

Many people were on edge, even U.S. citizens not at risk of being deported. At a care facility for disabled adults in Torrance, one staffer — who declined to give her name out of fear of retaliation — said she had not seen an alert about a reported ICE sighting outside the facility that had been posted on Ice Block, one of the apps that circulates user-generated reports of federal actions.

But she said in a half-whisper that a friend had spotted U.S. Customs and Border Protection agents on a residential street a few blocks away. It was unclear whether anyone had been detained in the area.

“It’s so scary what they’re doing,” she said.

Angelica Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Human Rights of Los Angeles characterized the sweeps as an unprecedented “enforcement blitz” in which people are being “indiscriminately” targeted. Her organization, she said, has received 3,000 calls for service since Thursday.

In Signal Hill, the mood among a handful of day laborers who were posted up on a patch of grass near a Home Depot on Tuesday afternoon was jovial and almost defiant.

“I’m not worried,” one of the men said as pickup trucks laden with heavy lumber rumbled past. But he declined to give his name, not wanting to risk immigration agents tracking him down.

Andrew Carnegie Middle’s graduation in Carson ultimately went off without any interruptions by law enforcement. But attendees said they were asked at the last minute to show up at 7:30 a.m. instead of the previously planned 8:00 a.m. in an effort to avoid confrontations with ICE outside the school.

“They changed the graduation time because they were worried about people getting snatched up and taken,” said Zoe Toby, who wore a black Class of 2025 sash and blue lei over her gray-blue dress to celebrate her final day at Carnegie. “It’s scary because you never know when it’s going to happen.”

During the ceremony, some parents received notifications via the Ice Block app and social media warning that immigration enforcement officers were seen near the school. There was no confirmation of anyone being detained.

Zoe said some of her friends worry every day about being taken away by federal agents. Many of them have received red cards from the school explaining their rights, she added, pulling a picture up on her phone of one of the many posters emblazoned with the words “This classroom is a safe space for immigrants” that she said have been posted on the middle school’s walls.

“I’m on the Nextdoor app,” Zoe’s mother added, “and every day there’s neighbors warning each other” about ICE activity.

Gardena police officers keep a watchful eye out as Gardena High School graduates mingle with family and friends on Tuesday.

Later Tuesday, hundreds of teenagers in caps and gowns spilled out onto the street next to Gardena High School to revel in their first moments as high school graduates. Like in Carson, people were smiling and embracing one another as roadside vendors sold snacks and flower bouquets.

Chris Alvarez, a junior, was there to celebrate his 18-year-old cousin Anthony Garcia’s graduation. In between jokes with his friends and relatives, Chris, 17, said he’s “not really worried” about ICE, but he was dismayed by online warnings that agents had been spotted near his school earlier Tuesday.

“It’s not fair for these kids to put all this time and effort into school only to have to be concerned about their safety and the safety of their family and their friends,” he said. “This should be a celebration.”

For Orlando Johnson, principal of Susan Miller Dorsey Senior High School in South Los Angeles, safety is paramount amid the ongoing threat posed by the immigration crackdown.

“The focus is just on protecting our families and protecting our students. We don’t know what information’s real and not real,” he said Tuesday. “I think everybody’s concerned.”

Times staff writers Andrea Castillo and Rachel Uranga and L.A. Times Studio senior producer Karen Foshay contributed to this report.

As you climb the staircase to Debbie Lin and Na-Moya Lawrence’s second-story Hollywood apartment, a smell begins to materialize. It’s earthy and calming — grounding, even — and by the time you open their door, the scent envelops you. That’s because Lin and Lawrence have set up their artisan perfume company, Samar, in a corner of their home studio space. Sitting on a small foldaway table is a precision scale where the duo weighs out mixtures. Shelves along the wall are lined with hundreds of little bottles of essential oils and aroma chemicals.

“Have you smelled this?” Lin says, holding a bottle of green tea essential oil under my nose.

In this series, we highlight independent makers and artists, from glassblowers to fiber artists, who are creating original products in Los Angeles.

These headquarters may seem surprising for a duo that creates award-winning perfumes and has built a following of loyal fans. Their small-batch production, inspired by highly personal memories, challenges the norms of the industry. Rather than obsessing over fast growth, they embrace an ethos of exploration and creativity — along with a bit of humor.

Much of the messaging in the perfume landscape has been aspirational, Lawrence explains. “‘I’m in Paris and I’m a sexy lady,’” she says, mimicking the traditional advertising. “That’s all great, but now you can smell like a dirty pond goblin if you want. And that’s cool.”

Lin and Lawrence launched Samar in Seattle in 2022, succeeding at something many failed at: keeping a pandemic hobby alive. “We were talking about the places we want to travel when we’re able to, the things that we miss doing,” Lin says.

With names like Grove is in the Heart, Golden Hour and Holy Ghost, Samar’s unisex perfumes are made in small batches.

They tried various projects — at first, making pastries and later starting a skincare line — but realized that their real calling lay not in baking (“We’re not morning people,” says Lawrence with a laugh) and the beauty endeavor was proving to be too ambitious.

Lawrence had a passion for unusual scents ever since college, when a roommate introduced her to the indie fragrance brand Amorphous Perfume. The duo soon started thinking about entering perfumery. There was just one problem: Lin didn’t like perfume all that much. Lin told Lawrence that she had never encountered one she enjoyed.

For Lawrence? Mission accepted. She recalls thinking, “There’s no way there isn’t something we could find for [Lin] to enjoy. And so as we were talking as very audacious queers, ‘What if we just made it? But where the hell do we start?’”

Down the rabbit hole they went, scouring message boards and subreddits, where they found lots of bad advice — some of it dangerous even. Finally, they stumbled upon Perfumer’s Apprentice, Hermitage Oils and Pell Wall — material suppliers where you can order the fragrant oils and molecules that make up perfumes. “We were like, ‘Oh, this is the s—. This is the stuff we’re supposed to be using,’” Lawrence says.

To develop their full scent profiles, perfumes must macerate, or sit for several weeks to let the chemical processes take place, top. Lin demonstrates the dilution of fragrance material, above.

The two started making scents that were “grounded in specific memories and emotions that we wanted to relive for ourselves and share with other people,” Lin says. Soon, Samar was born. The name has a dual meaning in Arabic for both “fruits of paradise” and “evening conversations with friends,” which nicely sums up the feeling of their perfumes. Their first fragrances were Garden Heaux (a green, vegetal perfume) and Happy Trails (a campfire and woodsy scent inspired by Lin’s love of camping with friends in the wilderness near Seattle).

Now their home studio — the duo moved from Seattle to L.A. last April — is starting to take over parts of their apartment: A storage closet is full of bottles of finished perfume that’s macerating, a term for when perfume sits for several weeks to let the chemical processes take place.

For each fragrance, one of them takes “point” — for instance, on Garden Heaux, Lawrence acted as the perfumer and Lin as the fragrance evaluator, deciding whether the scent needed tweaking. It’s an intimate working environment for the partners in both work and life. “To be able to work closely together is really lovely,” says Lin. Because they have different palates, they’re each able to pick up on certain notes much more strongly. “So between the two of us, once we’re both happy, then we know we have something that’s really nice and balanced,” Lin adds.

Lawrence, right, smells a sample fragrance. Lawrence and Lin are partners in both work and life.

Of course, there’s not always an instant consensus. They found this out with Grove is in the Heart, the winner of an Art and Olfaction Award, presented in Lisbon in 2024. “[Lawrence] was like, ‘No, it’s not quite right. It should be sweeter, but not too sweet,’” says Lin. They rejiggered some materials but it was still missing something.

Lin says, “And I’m just like, ‘OK, what is it?’ She’s like, ‘I don’t know. You know the Trader Joe’s candied orange slices? Like that.’ So I taste it, and I’m like, ‘Well, what about this? Because it already is zesty, and it already has a little sweetness and the rindiness,’ and she’s like, ‘Juicy. It needs to be more juicy.’”

Lawrence laughs at this story, mentioning that sometimes they can go 13 or 14 trials before they succeed in satisfying both perfumers. “I wanted it juicier, but there I was standing with a dried orange slice in my hand,” she says.

“I would have never gotten there,” banters Lin.

Where they do align easily is in their commitment to making fragrance available and emotionally resonant. As a small business, Samar doesn’t benefit from the discounts enjoyed by major brands — big companies buy literally tons of essential oil at a discounted rate. So the brand reflects that smaller scale by offering smaller sizes at more approachable price points (bottles cost between $10 and $55). Each perfume comes in 2.25mL, 5mL or 10mL sizes, smaller than the industry standard of 30mL or 50mL. “A lot of people are samplers,” Lawrence says. “We’re samplers.”

Samar’s inclusiveness goes beyond their pricing. In L.A., they are surrounded by friends in the fragrance community, notably Orange County-based perfumers James Miju Nguyen and Kael Jeong, who run artisan perfume brands d.grayi and KST Scent, respectively. They’ve formed something of a queer indie perfumer club. For these makers, gender isn’t on the radar — a perfume can be enjoyed by all. In an Instagram post, Samar explained that at in-person shows, the company asks customers to suspend their beliefs about masculinity and femininity, and found that most men gravitate toward its more floral-forward and sweet perfumes like Beach Berry and Great Lei.

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1. Shelves lined with bottles of essential oils and aromachemicals. 2. Samar packaging. (Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

One of Samar’s most distinct creations, Speakeasy, was inspired by 1920s underground queer bars and the illicit moonshine that fueled the Prohibition era. “It’s one of our most polarizing scents, actually, but it’s also one of my favorite ones that Debbie has made,” Lawrence says. They didn’t shy away from the scent’s complexity, leaning into the more unusual notes like gin, elderflower and leather. “I really love the darkness to it,” Lawrence adds.

Their exploration of scent is boundary-pushing. On a recent trip to Thailand, they found themselves at a chocolate cafe called Chocolate Culture Club, where they struck up a conversation with the owner, a chocolatier named MK. MK suggested they create perfumes from fermented chocolate husks, and before they left Bangkok, he gave them several bags of cacao husks.

Lawrence bounds over to a shelf with several jars of a brown tinctured slurry, the results of which they’ll use to create a cacao perfume. They’ll send half of each batch to Thailand for Chocolate Culture Club to sell. The chocolate-vinegar scent isn’t what one might think about when thinking of perfume, but that’s part of the fun of trying to find that perfect blend.

Lawrence says she’s intrigued by the potential for “slightly off scents.”

The final result will be “maybe beautiful, maybe just kind of weird,” she says. “But weird is beautiful.”

Nintendo is in many ways a different company now than it was back in 2017 when it released the Switch. For one, it has sold more than 150 million units of its hybrid TV/on-the-go console, making it the defining game device of the last decade.

Nintendo also expanded its universes beyond its game consoles. At long last, “Super Mario Bros.” became a blockbuster animated film, and there are now three Super Nintendo World theme park properties, including one here in Los Angeles at Universal Studios Hollywood.

That makes the launch of the Nintendo Switch 2 something of an event, and arguably the most important tech instrument of the year.

The Times’ Features Columnist Todd Martens plays Nintendo Switch 2’s upgraded version of “The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom” on the console’s handheld mode.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

So, the good news. The pricey Switch 2 is a worthy successor to the original. And unlike the motion-controlled Wii in 2006 or the dual-screen Nintendo DS in 2004, this play-it-somewhat-safe console takes an if-it-ain’t-broke philosophy to gaming, continuing Nintendo’s legacy rather than redefining it. While it’s bigger, stronger, better feeling, higher-res and comes with a couple new tricks, overall it’s primarily a refinement of the original Switch’s ideas.

The first game company to make interactive characters household names — Donkey Kong, Mario, Link, take your pick — Nintendo has become a full-fledged, cross-media storytelling company. And it has done so via a medium that in its most mainstream form is only about four decades old.

The Switch 2, officially released June 5 and selling for $449.99, is the vessel for which Nintendo will reveal its play-focused worlds for likely the next decade. The reception from consumers may be inspiring but brings with it a host of questions.

The Switch itself is far from obsolete, despite being significantly less powerful than Sony‘s PlayStation and Microsoft‘s Xbox consoles, due largely to its hybrid design. And consumers may be forgiven for wondering why — or when — they should upgrade to a machine that looks, feels and plays similar to the one they currently own, especially when Nintendo is unleashing only one new core game for it this month, the dazzling “Mario Kart World.”

The Nintendo Switch 2 with its accessories, a Pro Controller and camera. Each is sold separately.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

Valid, but I believe those who make the leap will be happy in their investment, even if its lineup of exclusive games is relatively barren for now. There are enough improvements to make the Switch 2 feel fresh.

I’m eager, for one, to see how its controllers, the detachable “Joy-Cons,” evolve, as they now have the ability to act as a mouse. This has already come in handy in the strategy game “Civilization VII,” a title I waited for the Switch 2 to play and one that can utilize the more precise maneuvers mouse controls provide. First-person shooters should benefit even more.

And then there are its chat features, which can be enhanced with an optional Nintendo camera ($54.99). While serious gamers who use services such as Discord may not need a console to facilitate chatting with friends, the Switch 2 makes connecting and conversing safe and easy for the gamer who plays primarily solo. One can can only talk with approved friends, and Nintendo will verify accounts and a phone number to do so. Simply touch a button on the Joy-Con, and the chat feature is enabled.

My circle of connections who own a Switch 2 is currently small, so I haven’t experimented with these accoutrements as much as I would have liked, especially the CameraPlay feature that allows users to overlay their own faces on drivers in the game. Other features will no doubt come in handy during “Mario Kart World,” saving my friends and I from conversing via text. And they would have been a godsend during the worst days of the COVID-19 pandemic, when every Switch owner was eager to share their “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” creations with their pals.

All of this says nothing about how good the Switch 2 simply feels. The Joy-Cons now connect magnetically rather than having to lock into place, and while it’s perhaps an incremental upgrade, snapping them into the console is one of those tech creations that feels like magic, like the first time one uses a touchscreen. It’s slightly larger, and I find a more robust Switch 2 is easier to handle, my arms less likely to grow tired when playing in bed.

The Nintendo Switch 2 controllers — its “Joy-Cons” — now connect magnetically.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

The screen is 1080p, making just about every old game feel brighter, crisper and less fuzzy, and the Switch 2 has support for 4K TVs. “Super Mario Odyssey” has never looked so clear, and $9.99 upgrades to “The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild” and “The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom” will have you wanting to revisit — or jump back into — each of those titles, as refreshed resolutions and frame rates have us seeing the worlds anew.

Battery life, however, might be a challenge. In handheld mode I was able to get about two hours of “Mario Kart World” before needing to recharge. The console fared better with independent and smaller games.

But the real reason to buy a new gaming console is for its next-generation games. Nintendo is counting on “Mario Kart World” to be enough initially to entice buyers. It’s a safe bet, when one considers that “Mario Kart 8” is one of the bestselling games of all time, having sold more than 67 million copies. Many an original Switch was likely a “Mario Kart”-focused machine, and though I prefer my plump plumber when he’s exploring the Mushroom Kingdom on foot — running, jumping and power-upping his way to rescue his friends — I am not immune to the charms of “Mario Kart World.”

“Mario Kart 8” was released back in 2014, meaning these cute-but-vicious races are now nostalgia bait for another generation. And “World” marries some Nintendo weirdness — you can now race as a cow — with its penchant for playful world building. I’m smitten, for instance, with the game’s approach to races, which makes driving among the Mushroom Kingdom landscapes as important as it does wacky tracks that encompass everything from Route 66-inspired hokeyness to careening amid giant ice cream palaces.

The Nintendo Switch 2’s detachable controllers — its “Joy-Cons” — can now be used as a mouse.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

There’s now a so-called “free roam” mode, allowing us to simply drive off course and explore the wonders of the Mushroom Kingdom. Though there could probably be a few more hidden mini-games, I find it relaxing and full of little surprises. Instead of zooming by Yoshi’s Cafe, I can now pull up, enjoy some speed-boosting ice cream, admire the animation work and take in the delightfully down-home soundtrack, an orchestral, slightly upbeat and cartoonish approach to classic American big band, jazz and Western stylings. As an insomnia sufferer, I’ve spent a few recent sleepless nights just roaming around “Mario Kart World,” driving through empty castles-turned-racetracks.

Then there’s “Nintendo Switch 2 Welcome Tour.” This is a $9.99 introduction to what the Switch 2 can do, full of odd little mini games, most of them able to be completed in a minute or two. One shows off the Switch 2’s touch screen, having us use the device as a sort of Twister board for our hands. Others use the Joy-Con as a mouse to swing wildly at a golf ball or dodge falling metallic obstacles. Sometimes they’re not games at all but rather tech demos designed to show off, say, the rumble vibration effects in the controllers.

One simply had me using the Switch 2’s backing stand to try and match the degrees for which it was asking me to place the console. “I’ve never seen such amazing angling!” it told me after completing the task. Why, thank you.

It’s cute. I’ve completed a little more than half of it. It reminds me a bit of mid-’80s PC work “Little Computer People,” as it turns the Switch 2 into a living, theme park-like mall space full of tiny humans. Though I do recommend springing for it if you buy into the Switch 2, it’s ultimately a game-as-tutorial and should have been included with the system, especially since one of its goals is having us better appreciate the tech behind the console.

The most common question I’ve received — understandably so — is if I believe the Switch 2 is “worth it.” While it’s difficult to tell someone to drop close to $500 for a gaming machine and then another $80 for “Mario Kart World” (you’re also probably going to want the $84.99 Pro Controller, as it’s a more ergonomically-friendly way to play via the TV), those with the means and in the market for a new gaming console will likely be pleased. Thankfully, your Switch controllers will work with the Switch 2, saving you some financial upgrade headaches, and with 256 GB of internal storage, you likely won’t need a memory-expanding microSD Express card right away, although you will need a new case due to the console’s bigger size.

The Times’ Features Columnist Todd Martens plays “Nintendo Switch 2: Welcome Tour” in handheld mode.

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

Blissfully, upgrading from a prior Switch to the Switch 2 is relatively easy. One logs into their Nintendo account, and places the two consoles next to one another while data is transferred. I brought over a handful of games, which took about half a day. Download speeds varied. “Tears of the Kingdom” was loaded in about 20 minutes, whereas a bigger game such as “Cyberpunk 2077” took about three hours.

Part of buying a new gaming console is the gamble of, betting on new games rolling out over the coming years that will hopefully make the device a worthy investment. Early signs are promising; “Donkey Kong Bananza” is due July 17. I played the game at a Nintendo media event earlier this year and I’m eager to get my hands on it as it embodies Nintendo’s play-as-discovery principles. Our friendly but grumpy banana-crazed ape can essentially power his way through the world, stomping and smashing new pathways to make this a game about exploration as much as it is any challenges.

That’s long been Nintendo’s approach to play and storytelling, and that likely isn’t going to change anytime soon. The Switch became the most popular gaming console of the decade by giving us games that became global phenomena, be it “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” or “Tears of the Kingdom” (I’m most partial to “Super Mario Odyssey”).

And to buy a Switch 2 is to trust the Nintendo design team to continue to deliver. It’s early days, but I feel good about that gamble. After all, I have a cow in a kart waiting for me to get back into a race.

Strumming a black acoustic guitar to match his black tuxedo pants and jacket, Hugh Jackman strolled onto the stage of the Hollywood Bowl and let the audience know precisely what it was in for.

“Little bit of Neil Diamond,” he said as the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra revved up the go-go self-improvement jive of “Crunchy Granola Suite.”

A dedicated student of showbiz history, the Australian singer and actor was starting his concert Saturday night just as Diamond did half a century ago at the Greek Theatre gig famously captured on his classic “Hot August Night” LP.

Yet Diamond was just one of the flamboyant showmen Jackman aspired to emulate as he headlined the opening night of the Bowl’s 2025 season. Later in the concert, the 56-year-old sang a medley of tunes by Peter Allen, the Australian songwriter and Manhattan bon vivant whom Jackman portrayed on Broadway in 2003 in “The Boy From Oz.” And then there was P.T. Barnum, whose career as a maker of spectacle inspired the 2017 blockbuster “The Greatest Showman,” which starred Jackman as Barnum and spawned a surprise-hit soundtrack that went quadruple-platinum.

“There’s 17,000 of you, and if any of you did not see ‘The Greatest Showman,’ you might be thinking right now: This guy is super-confident,” Jackman told the crowd, panting ever so slightly after he sang the movie’s title song, which has more than 625 million streams on Spotify.

The success of “Showman” notwithstanding, Jackman’s brand of stage-and-screen razzle-dazzle feels fairly rare in pop music these days among male performers. (The theater-kid moment that helped make “Wicked” a phenomenon was almost exclusively engineered — and has almost exclusively benefited — women such as Ariana Grande, Cynthia Erivo, Chappell Roan and Laufey.) What makes Jackman’s jazz-handing even more remarkable is that to many he’s best known as the extravagantly mutton-chopped Wolverine character from the Marvel movies.

Before Jackman’s performance on Saturday, the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, conducted by Thomas Wilkins, played a brief set of orchestral music that included selections from John Ottman’s score for “X2: X-Men United.”

The ascent of Benson Boone, with his mustache and his backflips, suggests that Jackman may yet find inheritors to carry on the tradition he himself was bequeathed by Diamond and the rest. But of course that assumes that Jackman is looking to pass the baton, which was not at all the impression you got from his spirited and athletic 90-minute show at the Bowl.

In addition to stuff from “The Greatest Showman” and a swinging tribute to Frank Sinatra, he did a second Diamond tune — “Sweet Caroline,” naturally, which he said figures into an upcoming movie in which he plays a Diamond impersonator — and a couple of Jean Valjean’s numbers from “Les Misérables,” which Jackman sang in the 2012 movie adaptation that earned him an Academy Award nomination for lead actor. (With an Emmy, a Grammy and two Tonys to his name, he’s an Oscar win away from EGOT status.)

Hugh Jackman with members of the L.A. Phil’s Youth Orchestra Los Angeles on Saturday night.

(Timothy Norris)

For “You Will Be Found,” from “Dear Evan Hansen,” he sat down behind a grand piano and accompanied himself for a bit; for the motor-mouthed “Ya Got Trouble,” from “The Music Man” — the first show he ever did as a high school kid, he pointed out — he came out into the crowd, weaving among the Bowl’s boxes and interacting with audience members as he sang.

“I just saw a lot of friends as I went through,” he said when he returned to the stage. “Hello, Melissa Etheridge and Linda. Hello, Jess Platt. Hi, Steph, hi, David, hi, Sophia, hi, Orlando — so many friends. Very difficult to say hello to friends and still do that dialogue.” He was panting again, this time more showily. “It’s like 53 degrees and I’m sweating.”

The show’s comedic centerpiece was a version of John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” that Jackman remade to celebrate his roots as an “Aussie boy.” There were good-natured jokes about shark attacks and koalas and Margot Robbie, as well as a few pointed political gibes, one about how “our leaders aren’t 100 years old” — “I’m moving on from that joke fast,” he added — and another that rhymed “Life down under is really quite fun” with “I never have to worry: Does that guy have a gun?”

The emotional centerpiece, meanwhile, was “Showman’s” “A Million Dreams,” for which the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra was joined by 18 members of the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s Youth Orchestra Los Angeles. The song itself is pretty cringe, with a lyric bogged down by cliches and a melody you’ve heard a zillion times before. But Jackman sold its corny idealism with a huckster’s sincerity you couldn’t help but buy.

Seth Hernandez, the senior pitching standout at Corona High, has been chosen the national baseball player of the year by Gatorade.

Hernandez learned of the prestigious honor during a surprise presentation at Corona on Thursday. He was named state player of the year on Tuesday.

“Super surprised,” he said after a presentation in which he was told by coach Andy Wise that he’d be taking a team photo and instead found former major leaguer Dexter Fowler greeting him with the player of the year trophy while family, friends and teammates were cheering him on.

The Gatorade national baseball player of the year award that was presented to Corona pitcher Seth Hernandez.

(Eric Sondheimer / Los Angeles Times)

Hernandez joined Corona last season after two years of being home schooled. He has developed into the top high school pitching prospect available in next month’s MLB amateur draft.

“At the end of the day, I have brothers for life and I’ll never forget the memories I spent with them,” he said of his high school days.

He went 9-1 this season with an 0.39 ERA and 105 strikeouts in 53 1/3 innings with only seven walks.

LOVE Island star Ekin-Su Cülcüloğlu has fallen out with her best pal – with the star being branded a “narcissist”.

Ekin-Su, who shot to fame on Love Island in 2022 and again on the All Stars series earlier this year, had previously been championed by close friend Mabel Asojo during her time on the reality show.

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But now the pair have unfollowed each other on social media and sources say that they are no longer friends after a falling out.

Mabel recently shared a post to address her fallout with Ekin-Su.

It read: “To everyone flooding my inbox with updates and questions, save it.

“We are not friends – I don’t need to write an unsold self help book on loyalty for someone who can’t even grasp how to be a decent human.

“I don’t deal with liars, cheaters, bullies, or narcissists. So please stop involving me.

“Consider this your final update. I hope she discovers peace.

“It just won’t be through me.”

She then followed this up with a screengrab of one of Ekin-Su’s pals defending the star, while taking a swipe at Mabel.

They claimed: “Imagine smiling to someone’s face, claiming you were best friends, then selling stories behind their back – and trying to turn me against her too.

“That’s next level snake behaviour. She’s real, loyal and solid and she doesn’t deserve the lies.

“Some people will do anything for attention.

“Glad we know who the rat was all along in the friendship circle.”

Taking a swipe at former friend Ekin, Mabel captioned it: “Wish you both the best.”

While a source said: “Ekin-Su’s friendship circle is at war. They’ve fallen out in a major clash and there is a big division between the group.

“The fallout worsened after Ekin-Su’s stint on All Stars, one of her long term friends has cut ties with her.

“One of her pals is not happy with her behaviour and has called her out for it.

“They’ve tried to be a good friend to her but think fame has gone to her head and she’s changed for the worse.

“Right now they’ve washed their hands of her and think she’s been a narcissist and disloyal in a bid to further her career.”

But another insider said Ekin-Su is not fully to blame.

They shared: “Ekin-Su has been under a lot of stress, those closest to her have unfairly turned their back on her.

“Ekin has always been a good friend and they should have had her back.”

The Sun have reached out to Ekin-Su’s rep for comment.

Back in 2022, Mabel – who met Turkish actress Ekin-Su at a hot tub party – helped her friend to become the first of this year’s Islanders to hit a million followers.

Mabel had supported her former friend during her stint on the show and looked after her social media account.

But it wasn’t all plain sailing and she’s admitted that the trolling has been very bad at times.

Mabel told The Sun at the time: “It was so hard.

“I spent a lot of time in my bedroom upset thinking she’s so sweet and down to earth and such a girls’ girl.”

They often appeared on each other’s Instagram but they have since deleted any trace of each other.

Meanwhile, Ekin seems happier than ever after finding love with Curtis Pritchard on the Love Island spin-off series.

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Georgia O’Connor, a British boxer who was unbeaten in her young professional career, has died at age 25.

The promotion company BOXXER said in a statement Thursday that it was “heartbroken by the passing” of a fighter it had represented for all three of her professional bouts.

“A true warrior inside and outside the ring, the boxing community has lost a talented, courageous and determined young woman far too soon,” the company wrote. “Georgia was loved, respected and admired by her friends here at BOXXER. Our thoughts are with her loved ones at this difficult time.”

No cause of death has been given, but O’Connor had revealed on Jan. 31 on Instagram that she had been diagnosed with cancer.

“I’m still smiling and that smile will NEVER fade, no matter what,” she wrote. “We’ve already got an amazing oncologist on my case and we’ve made sure I’m going to have the best treatment and healing possible. Starting NOW.”

A GoFundMe page, which O’Connor had said was set up by her parents to help cover her medical bills, described the cancer as “rare and aggressive.”

“Doctors are calling it ‘incurable,’” the fundraiser’s description states.

“But Georgia does not accept this.”

O’Connor is survived by her husband Adriano Cardinali, whom she married May 9.

Georgia O Connor attends an event at the Royal Albert Hall on March 7 in London.

(Jordan Peck / Getty Images)

“From the moment I was diagnosed with cancer, Adriano didn’t hesitate,” O’Connor wrote Feb. 3 on Instagram. “He quit his job without a second thought and made it his mission to fight this battle alongside me. Not just by my side, but leading the charge, doing everything in his power to save me.”

O’Connor was born Feb 18. 2000, in County Durham, England. Her father introduced her to boxing very soon afterward, she told SkySports in 2021.

“My dad put a pair of gloves on me before I could walk,” she said. “He always wanted me to be able to look after me. He never wanted me to be a superstar, my family aren’t like that. He just wanted me to defend myself because the world isn’t a nice place.”

She added: “I was a three-time national taekwondo champion, undefeated in kickboxing, but my heart has always been with boxing.”

As a youth boxer, O’Connor won a gold medal at the Commonwealth Youth Games in 2017 and a silver and bronze at the Youth World Championships in 2017 and 2018. She won all three of her professional fights, between October 2021 and October 2022, later revealing she did so while suffering from what was eventually diagnosed as ulcerative colitis.

“I was going to the toilet between 15 and 20 times per day,” O’Connor wrote Feb. 9, 2024, on Instagram. “… I had pain in my joints and unbearable bowel cramps almost every day. I had 3 professional boxing fights during this time, all of which I somehow managed to win without any form of medication or treatment.”

O’Connor also revealed in February on Instagram that she had suffered a miscarriage within “the last few months.”

England Boxing paid tribute on Thursday to one of its rising stars in a statement .

“A hugely talented boxer and much-loved member of the boxing community, Georgia inspired many with her achievements in the ring and her spirit outside of it,” the sport’s governing body in England wrote. “Her dedication, passion, and talent made her a role model for young athletes across the country. Georgia’s legacy will live on in the hearts of those she inspired, and she will be deeply missed by all who knew her.”

International Boxing Federation and World Boxing Organization super bantamweight champion Ellie Scotney addresssed her late friend on Instagram.

“Being a pure soul and a good person gets thrown around so much, but you my friend are the definition of every word of that and so much more,” Scotney wrote. “I still can picture that timid shy but larger than life young girl walking on her tip toes a few steps in front of me, little did I know that very same girl was going to show not just me but the whole world how special life is and mostly how to live by every second.

“Even when life was on a timer, you never let anything dim that light of yours. A smile that never ever fades, and a heart that will forever live on in so many ways. There was nothing you couldn’t do, the world at your very feet no matter what room you entered. I was so blessed with not just a friend for 10 years, but a sister for life.”

Brigham Young quarterback Jake Retzlaff has been accused of raping a woman at his Utah residence in November 2023.

In a civil lawsuit filed this week in state court in Salt Lake County, a woman identified in documents as Jane Doe alleges that Retzlaff “raped, strangled, and bit” her after she and a friend came over to his place to play the video game “Fortnite.” The claimant is asking for more than $300,000 in damages over claims including assault, battery and “emotional distress, humiliation, embarrassment, mental distress and anxiety.”

Retzlaff’s attorney, Mark Baute, said on Wednesday in a statement to media outlets that Retzlaff is “factually innocent.”

“We look forward to proving that innocence,” Baute said. “Jake’s focus this year will be on football. We don’t try cases in the media, we will respect the process and establish Jake’s innocence through the judicial system.”

Retzlaff played two years at Corona Centennial High before spending a year each at Riverside City College and Golden West College in Huntington Beach. He has played 17 games in two seasons at BYU and led the Cougars to an 11-2 record last year. He has one year of college eligibility remaining.

BYU said in a statement to The Times that it learned about the lawsuit Wednesday.

“The university takes any allegation very seriously, following all processes and guidelines mandated by Title IX,” BYU wrote. “Due to federal and university privacy laws and practices for students, the university will not be able to provide additional comment.”

According to the lawsuit, Doe and Retzlaff met via social media in October and began messaging. They met in person in late November when Retzlaff invited the Salt Lake County resident to his place in Utah County. She and a friend came over “that evening and went to his room to play Fortnite,” the lawsuit states.

The filing states that Doe interacted with “Retzlaff’s friends and teammates” while playing the video game. Later, after her friend left, Doe and Retzlaff were kissing while watching a movie when “Retzlaff began escalating the situation, attempting to touch her breasts and genital area,” according to the complaint.

The lawsuit states that Doe “tried to de-escalate the situation and attempted to slow things down, trying to pull away, and saying ‘wait.’ She did not want to do anything sexual with him.”

Retzlaff’s physical contact started “causing her pain,” the complaint states, and Doe objected — saying “no” and “wait, stop” — and “wanted to leave, but was scared and felt like she could not get away.”

According to the lawsuit, Retzlaff would go on to allegedly pull Doe’s hair, forcefully kiss her, bite her lip (which allegedly caused a cut) and “put his hands around her neck and started to press down so that she could not breathe,” among other alleged actions before raping her.

Doe left after Retzlaff fell asleep, the lawsuit states. She went to a hospital “a few days later,” according to the lawsuit, and had a rape kit performed and photos taken of her injuries. She also spoke with the Provo Police Department but initially did not give Retzlaff’s name because “she was scared and in shock and not ready to confront him,” the lawsuit states.

“At some point after speaking to the police, an officer reached out to her asking for the name because someone else filed a complaint against a football player and the police wanted to see if it was the same person,” the lawsuit states.

“At that point, [Doe] shared Retzlaff’s name, and the Provo police then encouraged her not to do anything because, as they claimed, ‘sexual assault victims never get justice.’”

In a statement released Wednesday night, the Provo Police Department said it “is aware of a civil suit involving an allegation of rape made by an anonymous plaintiff against a BYU football player” but “has not been served any legal filing relating to this civil case.”

The department said it was able “to identify a possible correlating case report” based on the details of the civil case. The initials of the woman who called in that report match those of Retzlaff’s accuser. The Times does not name victims of sexual assault unless they choose to be identified.

“Our records show that on November 27th, 2023, our department received a phone report from a woman … who gave a similar account. She was treated with courtesy and care,” the department stated.

“The complainant in that case was given several opportunities to identify her abuser. She declined to do so, as is her right, and the case was subsequently closed. Collected evidence was examined, and it revealed no actionable investigative leads. Our victim advocates followed up several times to offer services but received no response.”

The department continued: “The civil suit states that Provo Police personnel discouraged the victim from proceeding, by telling her there is no justice for victims of sexual abuse. From everything we have reviewed, this is not true. We have a team of dedicated investigators and victim advocates whose sole mission is to provide justice to victims of sexual abuse. They do not send people away, warning them there is no justice for victims.

“Our Special Victims Unit investigations regularly result in criminal accountability for offenders. We hope the plaintiff chooses to make a statement to further the criminal investigation if desired.”

On Oct. 29, 2022, the universe told Dr. Casey Means her fate lay in Los Angeles.

President Trump’s new pick for surgeon general wrote in her popular online newsletter of her epiphany, which came during a dawn hike among the cadmium-colored California oaks and flames of wild mustard flower painting the Topanga Canyon: “You must move to LA. This is where your partner is!’”

Los Angeles has been a Shangri-La for health-seekers since its Gold Rush days as the sanitarium capital of the United States.

Today, it’s the epicenter of America’s $480-billion wellness industry, where gym-fluencers, plant-medicine gurus and celebrity physicians trade health secrets and discount codes across their blue-check Instagram pages and chart-topping podcasts.

But by earning Trump’s nod, Means, 37, has ascended to a new level of power, bringing her singular focus on metabolic dysfunction as the root of ill health and her unorthodox beliefs about psilocybin therapy and the perils of vaccines to the White House.

The surgeon general is the country’s first physician, and the foremost authority on American medicine. Means’ central philosophy — that illness “is a result of the choices you make” — puts her in lockstep with Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and in opposition to generations of U.S. public health officials.

Means declined to comment. But interviews with friends and her public writings track a metamorphosis since her move to L.A., from a med-tech entrepreneur and emerging wellness guru to the new face of Trump’s “Make America Healthy Again” movement, or MAHA for short.

If confirmed, America’s next top doctor will bring another unconventional addition to the surgeon general’s uniform: a baby bump. Friends told The Times Means and her husband, Brian Nickerson, are expecting a baby this fall.

“[The pregnancy] will definitely empower her,” said Dr. Darshan Shah, a popular longevity expert and longtime friend of Means. “It might create even more of a sense of urgency.”

On this, both supporters and critics agree. Fertility is a primal obsession of the MAHA movement, and a unifying policy priority among otherwise heterodox MAGA figureheads from Elon Musk to JD Vance. In this worldview, motherhood itself is a credential.

“She’s going to say, ‘I’m a mom, and the reason why you can trust me is I’m a mom,’” said Jessica Malaty Rivera, an infectious disease epidemiologist and an outspoken critic of Means.

Mothers have long been the standard-bearers for Kennedy’s wellness crusade. “MAHA moms” flanked him at the White House during a roundtable in March, where they filmed themselves struggling to pronounce common food additives. Many flocked to Trump after the president vowed to put Kennedy in charge of the nation’s healthcare.

Deena Metzger at her Topanga home. Metzger is a poet, novelist, essayist, storyteller, teacher, healer and medicine woman who has taught and counseled for over fifty years.

(Al Seib/For The Times)

“It’s such a radical change that’s required [in medicine],” said the writer and healer Deena Metzger, 88, whom Means has called one of her “spiritual guides.” “It’s wildly exciting that she might be surgeon general, because she’s really thinking about health.”

Her outsider status gives her a clear-eyed perspective, her supporters say.

“The answer to our metabolic dysfunction is through lifestyle,” said Dr. Sara Szal Gottfried, an OBGYN and longtime friend of Means. “Seventy percent of our healthcare costs are due to lifestyle choices, and that’s where she starts.”

Means’ 2024 bestseller “Good Energy” touts much the same message: Simple individual changes could make most people healthy, but the medical system profits by keeping them sick.

“Moms (and families) will not stand anymore for a country that profits massively off kids getting chronically sick,” Means posted on X on Jan. 30. “Nothing can stop the frustration that is leading to this movement.”

Critics say that elides a more complex reality.

“This is what we call terrain theory — it’s the inverse of germ theory,” said Rivera, the epidemiologist. “Terrain theory has a very deeply racist and kind of eugenic origin, in which certain people got sick and certain people didn’t.”

She and others point out that Means is being elevated at the same time the administration guts public health infrastructure, slashing staff and research funding and aiming to cut billions more from public safety net programs.

“MAHA is why we are defunding the [Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and National Institutes of Health],” Rivera said. “Thirteen million people could be uninsured because of [Medicaid cuts].”

But trust in those institutions — and in physicians generally — has tanked in the past five years, surveys show.

The blurring of personal pathos and professional authority at a moment of crisis for institutional medicine is central to MAHA’s influence and power, public health experts say. They point to the movement’s broad appeal from cerulean Santa Monica to crimson Gaines County, Texas, as evidence that health skepticism transcends political lines.

“[MAHA] has sucked in a lot of my blue friends and turned them purple,” Rivera said. “I have people doing the mental gymnastics of ‘I’m not MAGA, I’m just MAHA.’ I’m like, ‘I don’t think you realize those two things are one thing now.’”

Means’ own celebrity is similarly vast, uniting Americans fed up with what they see as a sclerotic and corrupt medical system.

Her opposition to California’s stringent childhood vaccine mandates, enthusiasm for magic mushrooms, and obsession with all things “clean” and “natural” have endeared her to everyone from raw milk fans to anti-vaxxers to boosters of Luigi Mangione, the accused killer of a healthcare chief executive who regularly receives fan mail while awaiting trial in Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Detention Center.

“We’ve never had anyone in that role [of surgeon general] who almost anyone knew who they were,” Dr. Joel Warsh, a Studio City pediatrician and fellow MAHA luminary, whose book on vaccines “Between a Shot and a Hard Place” came out this week. “We know the public loves her.”

That adoration may yet outshine concerns over Means’ medical qualifications — despite her elite education, she left just months before the end of her residency as an ear, nose and throat surgeon at Oregon Health & Science University. Her Oregon medical license is current but inactive and her experience in public health policy is limited.

And while the nominee vigorously defends the brand partnerships that often bookend her newsletters and social media posts, others see the dark side of L.A. influence in the practice.

“L.A. is its own universe when it comes to wellness,” Rivera said. “You can convince anybody to buy a $19 strawberry at Erewhon and say it’s worth it, the same way you can sell people colonics and detox cleanses and all kinds of wellness smoke and mirrors.”

Means made her name as CEO of a subscription health tracking service whose distinguishing feature is blood sugar monitoring for non-diabetics — a practice she touts across several chapters of her book. Her newsletter readers are regularly offered 20% off $1.50-per-pill probiotics or individually packaged matcha mix promising “radiant skin” for its drinkers.

More recently, she’s partnered with WeNatal, a bespoke prenatal vitamin company whose flagship product contains almost the same essential molecules as the brands offered through Medicaid — the insurance half of pregnant Californians use. Taking it daily from conception to birth would cost close to $600.

“So many of the companies that she supports, so many of the companies selling snake oil have some connection to or presence in Los Angeles,” Rivera went on. “It is the mecca for that kind of stuff.”

Even some in the doctor’s inner circle have misgivings about the world of influence that launched her, and the administration she’s poised to join.

Deena Metzger is at the center of a web of influence surgeon general nominee Dr. Casey Means found when she moved to L.A.

(Al Seib / For The Times)

“I’m not sure the obsession with wellness is really about wellness,” Metzger said, her husky Gentle Boy lying at her feet in her home in Topanga. “There’s wellness, which is maybe even a social fabrication, and there’s health.”

The writer and breast cancer survivor has spent decades convening doctors and other healers on this mountaintop as part of her ReVisioning Medicine councils, probing the question posed variously by Soviet writer Mikhail Bulgakov and American humanitarian Dr. Paul Farmer, Jewish philosopher-physician Moses ben Maimon and fictional heartthrob Dr. Robby on “The Pitt”: Can we create a medicine that does no harm?

“How do you believe in that? Or associate with it?” she wondered about the MAHA movement her friend had helped to birth. “But If she’s there and she has power to do things, it will be good for us.”

While mainstream medical authorities and wellness gurus agree that pesticides, plastics and ultraprocessed foods harm public health, they diverge on how much weight to give MAHA’s preferred targets and how to enact policy prescriptions that actually affect them.

“We have people forming a social movement around beef tallow — let’s get that focused on alcohol reduction, tobacco reduction,” said Dr. Jon-Patrick Allem, an expert in social media and health communication. “I don’t disagree with reducing ultraprocessed foods. I don’t disagree with removing dyes from foods. But are these the main drivers of chronic disease?”

Teahouses built for spending extended time in, open until the wee hours of the night, are popping up all over the city. Some are elusive, hidden in plain sight or only accessible via a mysterious membership. Others have gone viral on TikTok and have cover charges and waitlists to attend. Some reference East Asian tea ceremony culture, others lean California cool and bohemian.

Jai Tea Loft owner Salanya Angel Inm prepares tea at her recently opened social gathering space in Koreatown.

(Dante Velasquez Jr. / For The Times)

Why the surge in places to drink tea? It might be because young people are consuming less alcohol (a 2023 study from Gallup found the number of people under 35 who drink has dropped 10% over the last two decades). Or maybe it’s due to the fact that the city has lost a sizable chunk of restaurants open past 10 p.m. — LAist reports nearly 100 since 2019 — leaving fewer places to sit and chat that aren’t bars or clubs. At the same time, activities centered on wellness and reflection, like gratitude groups, journaling or even reading silently in public, are being embraced by people of all ages looking for third spaces and activities outside of the standard dinner-and-a-movie.

Salanya Angel Inm was inspired to open Jai in Koreatown after years of feeling that Los Angeles lacked late-night spaces not oriented around alcohol. She wanted to create an alternative for her community of creatives, a place they could spend long hours loosening up outside of a bar environment. Lydia Lin, co-founder of Steep in Chinatown, which does serve alcohol along with plenty of tea, wanted a place that was open late but was peaceful enough that she could hear her friends while having a conversation.

Enter the rise of the teahouse. Despite their design and menu differences — some have a dozen herbal blends, others opt for dealer’s choice with a rotating set of three bespoke infusions; some are places to debut a trendy outfit, a few ask visitors to remove their shoes — they each come from a desire to challenge a typical consumer experience. These are spaces meant for lingering long after tea has been purchased, or even finished.

Below are four teahouses in different neighborhoods of Los Angeles.

Jai

Scenes from a Saturday night in May at Jai Tea Loft. (Dante Velasquez Jr. / For The Times)

Located above Thai Angel, known for its DJ sets and late-night noodles, newly minted teahouse Jai offers a quieter, more intimate space to spend weekend nights. The spot is owned and operated by Thai Chinese American model and breathwork and reiki practitioner Salanya Angel Inm, who co-owns Thai Angel with her mom and brother. She began tinkering with the idea of opening a teahouse in May 2022. In January 2024, construction began, with a soft opening following in March 2025.

Jai is housed in a one-room attic on top of Thai Angel. It’s cozy, with space for two dozen people at most. The room glows in yellow-orange light from a neon art piece fixed to the ceiling and is lined with brightly colored custom floor cushions made of fabric from Thailand. On a Saturday night in March, seven guests removed their shoes and sat for a storytelling event, ticketed at $10. This was the second installment of the event; Inm had selected the theme “Lucky to be alive.” Some guests recited poetry, while others freestyled between sips of tea. The group exchanged stories and lounged until 3 a.m.

Guests socialize on a Saturday night at Jai Tea Loft in Koreatown.

(Dante Velasquez Jr. / For The Times)

Jordan Collins bought a ticket for storytelling at Jai after hearing about it on Inm’s social media. Upon arrival, he ordered a herbal elixir featuring Asian botanicals from the brand Melati. It’s one of three premade nonalcoholic tonics (the other two are “Awake” and “Calm” by California-based brand Dromme) that Jai serves room temperature for $9. A fan of art shows and experimental music performances, Collins described himself as always on the lookout for new community spaces. “I think that was the first time I pulled up to anything completely solo with no expectations, with the full intention to yap for however long to a room with complete strangers,” he said, likening his experience to a night spent chatting with friends into the morning.

The tea selection at Jai Tea Loft.

(Dante Velasquez Jr. / For The Times)

The current menu at Jai consists of hot tea, sold by the glass or pot, along with the herbal elixirs — one invigorating, one calming and one berry. Tea drinkers can choose between more than a dozen herbs, from butterfly pea to white chrysanthemum, to create a custom blend prepared by Inm, starting at $15 per 25-ounce pot or $6 for a single serving. Behind the tea bar, she offers customers guidance based on their mood and needs.

She may expand the menu going forward but plans to keep costs low. “I really don’t like the idea that people can only access things that are good for them if they have a large amount of money to invest in themselves. I want people to feel like, ‘Yeah, I can swing that for this experience’ and it not be this obstacle,” said Inm.

Koreatown
149 N. Western Ave., Los Angeles, CA (upstairs)
Soft opening, see Instagram for hours

Tea at Shiloh

Patrons at Tea at Shiloh on a recent Saturday. (Yasara Gunawardena / For The Times)

Only 45 customers can enter Tea at Shiloh per evening, and those hoping to visit should plan ahead: Reservations, which are required, can be made through the website, and Tea at Shiloh fully books nearly every night.

As each attendee enters and takes off their shoes and adds them to the disorganized pile near the front of the door, a host asks them their intention for the evening. Patrons of the Arts District teahouse know what they’re getting into and answer the question with ease. The space attracts a metaphysically minded, wellness-oriented community. Some are there to journal, others to spend time with old friends. A few want to get out of their comfort zone; they come on dates, join with friends and arrive alone.

Guests socialize at Tea at Shiloh: A Teahouse.

(Yasara Gunawardena / For The Times)

The concept for Tea at Shiloh came to owner Shiloh Enoki (who goes by the mononym Shiloh) in 2019. Shiloh, who was born in Utah and is of South American descent, found herself unfulfilled working for a record label in Hollywood. She underwent a personal transformation that led to her quitting her job and legally changing her name. After a visit to a teahouse in San Francisco that closed in the afternoon, she couldn’t stop thinking how nice the experience would have been at night. She found herself looking for late-night teahouses back home in Los Angeles on Google Maps. To her surprise, she couldn’t find any. “I couldn’t believe that something that was in my brain didn’t exist on Google. I was like, ‘It has to be somewhere. It has to be somewhere in L.A.’ I live in one of the biggest cities in the world and nothing … I became obsessed,” she said. Shiloh began exploring herbalism and hosting friends and strangers at her home for tea, then decided to create a business that would provide what she’d been searching for. She opened the space in 2022.

Faith Bakar, Alexsys Hornsby and Rachel Angelica painting at Tea at Shiloh.

(Yasara Gunawardena / For The Times)

Tea at Shiloh is inside an industrial loft. Brick walls and exposed piping contrast with wooden furniture, white couches and floor cushions and the warm glow of Noguchi lampshades. Surfaces are covered in books, tarot cards, clay and other art supplies to make use of. From 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., laptops are welcome. For the evening shift, which goes from 7 to 10 or 11 p.m., the lights go down and laptops are banned (with an exception for Monday’s piano lounge events). Both time slots require prepaid reservations, which, day or night, start at $37 and include unlimited access to the only thing on the menu, a rotating selection of three custom tea blends by Shiloh’s herbalists.

On some nights, there’s live music; others feature workshops in journaling, ceramics and other mind-body activities and performances. “It’s not a singular experience. There’s something for everyone,” Enoki said. After discovering the space on TikTok, Cooper Andrews took his partner to “cosmic jazz” (an eclectic mix of saxophone, keys, and abstract vocal looping) night at Shiloh to celebrate her birthday. He was looking for something other than just another fancy dinner, and for him, the $47-per-person cover charge was well worth it. “I see the fee as a cover charge. It’s like going to a museum,” he said.

Arts District
2035 Bay St., Los Angeles, CA 90021
Reservation only

Steep LA

Steep LA in Chinatown.

(Solomon O. Smith / For The Times)

Friends Samuel Wang and Lydia Lin come from cultures that take tea seriously. Wang, an industrial designer, is Taiwanese, while Lin, a marketing MBA working in the legal field, is Cantonese. In 2019, they separately went on trips to Asia to visit their families and discovered how modernized traditional teahouses had become. “[In China] people our age were going to teahouses instead of bars or clubs. It was somewhere that wasn’t home to just hang out and be able to have a conversation,” said Lin. “Why didn’t this exist in L.A.?” the friends asked themselves.

Within six months, thanks to the help of their Chinatown community, Lin and Wang — who didn’t quit their day jobs — opened Steep in the fall of 2019. Opening night was the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival, Lin remembers, an important and auspicious day.

The minimalist tea lounge hides in the back of a plaza in Chinatown. There’s space inside for a few dozen guests and a handful of outdoor tables for when weather permits. Inside, there’s a beautiful marble bar, wood tables, a cozy couch and long tables with tea leaves in jars to smell and discover.

By day, Steep serves 10 rotating teas, all sourced from China and Taiwan. Customers can order a glass of cold-brewed tea or fresh-brewed tea, but Lin encourages a tea ceremony, which comes with a pot and up to four cups. Baristas walk guests through the steps of brewing and pouring the tea, providing a timer for the perfect steep.

By night, Steep is the only business open in its plaza. Inside, soothing R&B plays. And, unlike the other teahouses that have popped up recently in Los Angeles, Steep serves alcohol. After 5 p.m., the space shifts from cozy teahouse to experimental mixology bar, serving boozy concoctions that all feature tea as an ingredient. Take the Yuanyang Martini, an espresso martini with black sesame and black tea or Red Robe, featuring cognac, bourbon, oolong tea and white miso. At 9 p.m. on a Thursday in March, nearly every seat was filled. Half of the guests enjoyed cocktails, while the rest shared pots of tea.

Chinatown
970 N. Broadway #112, Los Angeles, CA 90012
11 a.m.-11 p.m. daily; closed Tuesday

NEHIMA

There’s no information about NEHIMA online except for an email address. The invite-only, membership-based Japanese teahouse opened in Los Feliz in 2022. It’s more exclusive than any Soho House, San Vicente Bungalows or Bird Streets Club. So much so that its founders, Miho Ikeda and Richard Brewer, also co-owners of New High Mart, an equally exclusive Japanese home goods boutique, agreed only to speak about their latest venture via email.

“Serving tea to-go is to miss the entire point of tea. Tea is time. An excuse to enjoy a moment, a pause, a rest — either with oneself or the company of others,” said Brewer. The space has a strict no-technology policy. Even smartwatches are required to be checked in lockers along with phones.

At NEHIMA, all tea is served made-to-order, tableside, in pieces from the owner’s collection of Japanese ceramics. There are no matcha, lattes or novelty drinks on the menu, only loose-leaf tea sourced from Japan. NEHIMA is careful to distinguish that while the space and experience recall Japanese tradition, the club does not offer an official tea ceremony. “That term is thrown around too easily these days and should be reserved for describing the very specific event, ‘Cha-No-Yu,’” said Brewer.

The founders said the average visit is between three and six hours. Where most members clubs try to offer a luxurious experience for the wealthy through elevated design, upscale food and posh clientele, taking time to relax and enjoy a pot of tea is what NEHIMA sees as the ultimate luxury. “In this busy demanding world, time is the new flex, and real wealth is taking time to stare into a bowl of tea,” said Brewer.

Los Feliz
4650 Kingswell Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90027
Members only

Welcome to Screen Gab, the newsletter for everyone who is feeling better about their perpetual identity crisis after watching streamer Max flip-flop its name back to HBO Max.

This week delivered some fun roasting after Warner Bros. Discovery announced the company’s streaming platform Max was undergoing yet another rebranding and reverting to one of its previous names to restore the HBO television branding to its name. The internet — including the company itself — quickly mocked the backpedaling with memes expressing relief of order being restored. What’s old is new again, right? There’s another classic media entity making headlines this week: “Saturday Night Live” will close out its 50th season. TV editor Maira Garcia reflects on the milestone season of the iconic sketch comedy show in this week’s Break Down.

Also in Screen Gab No. 181, our experts recommend a celebrity podcast worth watching on YouTube — hold the eye-roll, this one will make you feel like your hanging with friends — and a documentary that looks back on the campaign to appoint the first deaf president at Gallaudet University, which is specifically geared to deaf and hard-of-hearing students. And for viewers who like to plan ahead, our guides on the 15 TV shows and 18 films to watch this summer are linked and ready to be added to your bookmarks. Plus, Melissa Fumero stops by Guest Spot to discuss the Season 1 finale of “Grosse Pointe Garden Society” and her hopes for a second season.

ICYMI

Must-read stories you might have missed

Jenna Ortega in “Wednesday” Season 2; Dominique Thorne in “Ironheart”; Paul Reubens as Pee-wee Herman; Michael C. Hall in “Dexter: Resurrection”; Jason Momoa in “Chief of War.”

(Illustration by Stephanie Jones / Los Angeles Times; photos Netflix; Marvel; Getty Images; Showtime; Apple TV+)

15 TV shows we’re looking forward to watching this summer: There’s a lot of great television coming this summer, including the return of favorites like “The Bear” and “Wednesday,” and new series like “Ironheart,” “Too Much” and “Alien: Earth.”

The 18 summer movies we’re most excited about: The season looks strong, loaded with the kind of big Hollywood swings, smart indie alternatives and a fair amount of delicious-looking dumb, necessary in every summer diet.

The blessings of Ann Dowd as Aunt Lydia in ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’: Powerfully portrayed by Ann Dowd, the initial villain of “The Handmaid’s Tale” has become a symbol of transformation and the bridge between two series.

‘Andor’s’ Elizabeth Dulau on Kleya’s ‘heartbreaking’ moment with Luthen: “Andor” actor Elizabeth Dulau on Kleya’s Season 2 arc, her sacrifice in Episode 10 and becoming part of “Star Wars” lore.

Turn on

Recommendations from the film and TV experts at The Times

Jerry Covell in AppleTV+’s “Deaf President Now!”

(Apple TV+)

“Deaf President Now!” (Apple TV+)

This newly released documentary that premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year follows a history-making protest led by students at Gallaudet University in 1988, when the school’s board of trustees voted to install a hearing president over two deaf candidates. The university, located in the nation’s capital, has the distinction of being the first school of higher learning designed for deaf students. And after decades of hearing leadership, the students had had enough. The documentary features footage of the protests and interviews with the student leaders, who passionately explain why it was important to have a president that understood what it was like to exist in a world that regularly discriminated against them. Their protest would go on to help pave the way for the Americans with Disabilities Act, a pivotal civil rights law. — Maira Garcia

Amy Poehler’s weekly video podcast series, “Good Hang With Amy Poehler,” features conversations with celebrity guests.

(Spotify)

“Good Hang With Amy Poehler” (YouTube and various audio platforms)

In this land of a thousand podcasts, where every other celebrity is a host, you choose your shows like you choose your friends. The wonderful Amy Poehler debuted hers this March (“I like to be five or six years late to any trend,” as she puts it). And its title, “Good Hang With Amy Poehler,” is nothing but accurate; it has the air not of an interview show but of a conversation between pals you’ve been privileged to join — silently, of course, because what could you add to Poehler’s talks with Paul Rudd, Martin Short, Jack Black, Kathryn Hahn, Michelle Obama, Ike Barinholtz or Rashida Jones? At the beginning of each episode, the host quizzes the guest’s friends on what questions she should ask, so, if you tune into her episode with Tina Fey — unmissable, obviously — you get a bonus of Seth Meyers, Zarna Garg, Rachel Dratch and Fred Armisen making each other laugh. “I’m not here to change your life,” said Poehler, kicking off her series. “I don’t care if you get any better. I don’t have any advice for you. I just want us to have fun.” Includes many ’90s cultural references. Watch the video version of the podcast for the visual sunshine, but it’s great either way. — Robert Lloyd

Guest spot

A weekly chat with actors, writers, directors and more about what they’re working on — and what they’re watching

Melissa Fumero as Birdie in NBC’s “Grosse Point Garden Society.”

( Matt Miller / NBC)

In “Grosse Pointe Garden Society,” the soapy drama that follows four members of a gardening club in a wealthy Detroit suburb who are scrambling to cover up a shocking murder, Melissa Fumero is able to mine humor in the dark corners of the stressful situation her character is navigating. The “Brooklyn Nine-Nine” alum plays Birdie, a loud and brash socialite and romance novelist who is carrying her own secrets in the middle of this murder mystery. The dark comedy reaches its Season 1 conclusion Friday on NBC and it’s poised to bring a new set of twists and cliffhangers as the group tries to evade law enforcement and a private eye plotting blackmail. But the series faces its own uncertain future. It’s the last of NBC’s scripted programs without a renewal or cancellation; there are reports that a potential second season could land on Peacock. Fumero stopped by Guest Spot to discuss her hopes for a second season and the classic rom-com she hopes never gets Hollywood remake treatment. — Yvonne Villarreal

Ahead of the Season 1 finale, what can you tease about where things end with Birdie that makes you eager to continue her story?

The stakes are really high for Birdie when Season 1 ends. She has everything she’s ever wanted, but the really dark cloud of her choices and circumstances hangs over her. I think she’s probably terrified of losing it all, which maybe makes her make more bad choices? I hope we get renewed because I really want to know what happens next!

What have you found intriguing about exploring a character like Birdie, who has such a layered backstory, against the backdrop of friends unexpectedly committing a crime?

What intrigued me the most about Birdie was definitely the “what you see is not what you get” aspect of her character. On the surface, she’s powerful, self-assured, glamorous, wild and free-spirited; and while most of that is true, she is also really lost, vulnerable, and maybe having a bit of an identity crisis. Then she’s plopped into this garden club with three people who become friends — maybe the first real friends she’s ever had — and they all get roped into this crazy, mostly accidental murder. That’s A LOT of fun stuff to explore and play, and a dream for any actor, honestly.

What have you watched recently that you’re recommending to everyone you know?

I am VERY into “The Last of Us” [HBO Max] right now. This season is insane, and I look forward to it every week. It’s such an exciting and heart-wrenching show. Isabela Merced (who I am a fan of and love seeing a Latina play a leading role on such an epic show) and Bella Ramsey are doing such extraordinary work. It’s also very dark, but I find myself drawn to darker things these days — there’s something cathartic about it.

I think that’s why even “Grosse Pointe Garden Society” is such a fun watch.We don’t go too dark. But there are days where the world really feels like it’s on fire and I find myself wanting to watch people survive things, big or small. It’s weirdly comforting.

What’s your go-to comfort watch, the film or TV show you return to again and again?

“When Harry Met Sally” [VOD]. It’s a perfect movie. A perfect rom-com. If it’s on a streamer or playing live, I will watch. It’s on a lot of airlines, and I’d say my last five viewings were on flights. I should just buy it, but I’m afraid I’ll put it on every night and never watch anything else ever again. It’s so good. I hope they never, ever try to remake it. Don’t touch it. It’s too perfect.

Break down

Times staffers chew on the pop culture of the moment — love it, hate it or somewhere in between

Musical guest Bad Bunny, host Scarlett Johansson and Kenan Thompson during promos for “Saturday Night Live’s” season finale.

(Rosalind O’Connor / NBC)

“Saturday Night Live’s” historic Season 50 is coming to a close this weekend, with Scarlett Johansson as host, and it’s been nothing short of memorable. There were many cameos, whether political figures (Kamala Harris, Tim Kaine) or celebrities in the zeitgeist (Julia Fox, Sam Rockwell), multihyphenate hosts (Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande) and regular appearances from former cast members, including Maya Rudolph, Mike Myers, Andy Samberg and Dana Carvey. But what also made this season special was the programming that happened outside of it: “SNL50: The Homecoming Concert,” which featured a phenomenal lineup of musicians and comedy skits; a live prime-time special; and a pair of docuseries that shed light on the show’s history, “Beyond Saturday Night” and “Ladies & Gentlemen… 50 Years of SNL Music.”

The series’ effect on television and comedy over the decades cannot be overstated, having churned out dozens of film and TV stars, now mainstays and creators in their own right (Tina Fey, Adam Sandler, Chris Rock and Eddie Murphy, to name a few); memorable sketches that have become a part of pop culture lingo and a visual language through costumes that have elevated jokes into comedic art. As television critic Robert Lloyd wrote in an essay reflecting on the show’s 50th, the show survives through constant churn, whether through hosts, cast members or the comedy it produces. And even as culture and technology evolves, it remains a stalwart of television: “Counted out more than once, it has risen from the mat to fight again, new wins erasing old losses — a once and future champ.” — Maira Garcia

A REALITY TV legend has been left heartbroken by a second death, just days after losing her best friend. 

This week, Aisleyne Horgan-Wallace was left heartbroken at the “sudden” death of her close friend.

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The reality star, 46, said she was unable to “breathe” after her finding out that her good pal Chanel died in concerning circumstances in Bournemouth on Friday.

Aisleyne, 46, shared throwback photos of her and her friend during holidays together.

The former Big Brother star emotionally penned: “I can’t even breath, not you… not my precious gentle kind baby girl.

“F*** it let me come where you are, the world was beautiful with you in it, I can’t even, I love you.”

Now, she’s revealed that she’s had another heartbreaking loss, just days after losing her close friend.

The star took to social media to share a photo cradling her pet dog. 

In a tragic update, Aisleyne wrote: “Now my baby is dead too, f*** this world my heart can’t take no more. 

“Rip Charlie boy mummy loves you sooooooo much.” 

The heartbroken star shared another photo of the dog’s paw resting in her hand. 

It comes after reports that a woman in her 30s had died ‘suddenly’ at an address in Bournemouth town centre.

A spokesperson for Dorset Police said: “Officers attended and carried out enquiries at the scene.

“The woman’s death is not being treated as suspicious and her family has been informed.

“Our thoughts are with the woman’s loved ones at this difficult time.”

Two ambulances, a critical care car and around three police vehicles attended the scene.

In June 2024, Aisleyne was left heartbroken following the death of her best friend, Femi. 

Alongside a photo of the pair, she wrote: “Femi, Hyper, but my big brother for 30 years… I am so broken.”

While earlier this year Aisleyne also suffered her own health scare.

She issued a stark warning after she “nearly died” when she took fake Ozempic to lose two stone.

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Spiritually, Gabby Windey is all about Sundays in a hardcore, no-exceptions, day-of-rest sort of way. The “Long Winded” podcast host became the breakout star of “The Traitors” this year after winning the reality TV competition with a series of bold outfits and stereotype-smashing strategic moves. Her stream-of-consciousness podcast monologues continue to boost her star, frequently going viral on Instagram and TikTok for their vocal fry realness. Now she’s booked and busy beyond belief, a mixed bag for Windey.

In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.

“You know I’m always begging for a break,” Windey says. “It’s things that I want to be busy with, so I can’t really complain. But yeah, I’m always looking for my next nap.”

That makes Sundays feel like a “special occasion” for her, especially since it’s when she gets slow, quality time with her wife, comedian Robby Hoffman. Together, Windey and Hoffman spend their Sundays in the most relatable way possible: scrolling the internet, watching TV and movies, getting high with friends and snacking.

Sundays are also the ultimate example of Windey’s famous “business hours,” the time after 3 p.m. in which Windey’s confidence plummets and she’d rather “gouge my eyes out with a dull chopstick” than FaceTime for work. Woe to anyone who would bother Windey on a Sunday.

“God forbid, if anyone emails you on a Sunday, block and delete, fire them all,” Windey says. “On Sunday I am closed for business. You will not hear a peep from me.”

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

9 a.m.: Get out of bed, get back into bed

We’ll sleep in until, like, hopefully 9 or something. Robby works nights, you know, she’s a stand-up comedian. I’m like blaming [sleeping in] on her, but I can easily get 10 hours of sleep a night. So yeah, we like a lazy morning.

We’ll go get coffee. We’re right next to Lamill now. Then we’ll come back home and do the New York Times crossword, Connections, Wordle in bed.

Normally, when Robby’s had her fair share of like showing me YouTube clips or Reels, then I’ll start to get antsy. I’m like, “Enough of this. Let’s go.”

11 a.m.: Groceries and tamales

We’ll walk to the Silver Lake Farmers Market. Robby does a lot of the grocery shopping, and I’ll just, like, get a tamale. They’re $5, and they’re huge. I like a red sauce and a green sauce, so it’s like beef with the red sauce and chicken with the green sauce, but I also like a dessert tamale, a sweet tamale. I’m half Mexican, and my mom did not cook except for tamales. So it’s a very comforting food.

Robby’s really good at grocery shopping, so I just kind of let her go. But we get fresh berries. We’ll make veggie sandwiches throughout the week, which is like romaine lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes and cucumber. We’ll get those ingredients and whatever weird food there is, you know, there’s always like some hippie fermented thing that’s supposed to be good for you.

Noon: Back to bed.

I have to take a break.

1 p.m.: Prerolls in the park

For [the weed holiday] 4/20, we met up with friends in Silver Lake Meadow. First I went to Botanica to get some snacks. They have good snacks, so I got this really good carrot hummus. It’s like sweet. I got some good crackers, some goat cheese wrapped in tea leaves. It sounds better than it actually was. And I’m exploring NA [nonalcoholic] options. So I got some Ghia. People die for it. But I’m like, I don’t know. I wasn’t quite sold. It’s not giving me a buzz. Surprisingly — there’s nothing in it! But I still want a buzz of some sort, which in comes the weed. So then we went to the park to just like get high on Edie Parker prerolls, talk s— with some friends for like three hours and eat good snacks. (Note: Windey has a partnership with fashion and cannabis brand Edie Parker).

4:30 p.m.: Catch a movie

Then we’ll go see a movie. We’ll f— with the Americana [at Brand] hard. We love the popcorn, love the ease. We’ll like sneak food in and out, you know, I don’t even think you need to sneak it in anymore. We haven’t gotten caught, but we always have the backstory of like that we’re gluten-free, or that we’re kosher, because Robby grew up Hasidic. So she knows what it’s like to be kosher, and I guess it’d be a good excuse for sneaking in food to the movie theater.

7:30 p.m.: Eat special-occasion sushi

After the movies, we’ll probably go out, like on a date night. I love sushi, obviously, who doesn’t? So we’ll either go to Sugarfish, because it’s like you get the same thing every time. You know, it’s so reliable. Or Kombu Sushi in Silver Lake. They have a great baked crab roll that I literally crave. But I like to save it for a special occasion, for Sunday.

9:30 p.m.: Call it a night

Back home, I’ll maybe do some skincare if I have any energy left, which after this Sunday it sounds like I won’t. Other than that, we might just watch a show, or I’ll do like a face mask. I’ll read on the Kindle — I’m reading “Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents.” I can’t wait to be done with it. I’m like, “OK, I just need to get through this. And then I can start fun reading again.” I didn’t get much of the American lit category in school. So I’m trying to kind of move my way through that. I just read Joan Didion’s “Slouching Towards Bethlehem.” I might go to the other book that people think is her best one next.