silverlake and echo park next door are sacred ground to people of my faith , and as i chugged down glendale avenue between them , past the brooding tom mix mansion , now besieged by condos , past the remnant of the keystone studio i could sense the shades of stan and ollie rising in the twilight to muscle their piano up the nearby stairs , while ben turpin lurked in ambush at the top , hefting ghostly pies .