Tightwad City

 

BEST FREE SWING SCENE IN A CAFETERIA

Schabers Cafeteria. Aren’t you tired of that whole fake lounge scene? On weekends, at the last surviving Schabers (built in 1954), you can get a taste of the real deal: big bands that played for the WWII set the first time around. Saturdays, it’s the 17-piece Lenny Burns Big Band performing upbeat Les Brown– and Tommy Dorsey–style swing. Sundays, the amazing 20-piece Bill Davies Band — which did 12 years at the Cocoanut Grove — plays from the original Glenn Miller 1939 charts. Everybody table-hops and feasts on cafeteria comfort fare (mountainous mashed potatoes, mile-high cream pies, five colors of Jell-O) or just a cup of joe. Then, at the first sublime horn rush of "I Got a Gal From Kalamazoo" or "In the Mood," they’re out there cuttin’ a rug — all white-shoed Bennys and Lennys and Shirleys and Bettys, as well as Gloria, the hostess at the Hollywood USO Canteen back in ’43, plus some showbiz types, a slacker or two, and you and your sweetie (if you’re hep). Put down that cigar and get on your feet. It’s V-Day all over again. 12141 Victory Blvd., N. Hollywood; (818) 763-7974. (Judy Raphael)

 

BEST RADIO SHOW

Blues Hotel. Every Wednesday night at 11:55 p.m., I twist a fatty and decap a Rolling Rock, which is precisely what I do at 11:55 every other night. But as my Great-Uncle Paskudnik used to ask at Passover dinner, "Why is this night different from all other nights?" The answer to that ancient question is, "It’s time to tune in to Blues Hotel." Celebrating its 10th anniversary this year, it’s the only authentically freeform radio show in L.A. that manages to be intoxicatingly funny, musicologically eclectic, conversationally intelligent and commercial-free, simultaneously. Hosted by Papa John (who, off the air, is an iconoclastic reprobate named Chris Checkman), with additional repartee by Morris Beef and the mono-monikered Ian, Blues Hotel recalls those pre–Howard Stern days when freeform meant witty as well as outrageous. The show begins with a set of what Checkman calls "liver-pulverizing blues" but also programs large doses of Beatles, Dylan, Stones, Tom Waits, George Clinton, Coltrane and whatever else the spirits move ’em to play. Checkman has an am phetamine delivery and an encyclopedic vocabulary of cultural references, which he mines like no mortal since Lenny Bruce. Morris plays the role of Check man’s punching bag, and Ian functions as the Zen-like sage as the show de-evolves into giddy chaos by 3 a.m. (or 3:30 or 4 or whenever the ambulance shows up). KXLU 88.9 FM, Wed. at midnight. (Michael Simmons)

HAPPY BIRTHPLACE

Jackie Robinson’s Birthplace. This year marks the 50th anniversary of Jackie Robinson breaking baseball’s color line, and while there’ve been many celebrations concerning this epic event, 1997 wouldn’t be complete without stopping by the old Robinson homestead in Pasadena. (Jackie was born in the South, but his mother journeyed to California, where she raised her children.) Actually, the original place no longer exists, but there’s a nice plaque in front of where the house was. It reads, "Jackie Robinson resided on this site with his family from 1922 to 1946." So there. If you’re lucky, a 70-something baseball fan by the name of Willie Johnson will emerge from his house and show you just where Jackie played stickball in the front yard. 123 Pepper St., Pasadena. (David Davis)

DIDN’T WE MEET AT THE AIRPORT?

International Society for Krishna Consciousness. Hungry for spiritual nourishment? Or just plain hungry and too broke to afford the McBurger special? Then try the Love Feast, a free vegetarian spread hosted by the International Society for Krishna Consciousness every Sunday at 6 p.m. Visitors to the temple are welcome to the free eats, but it’s best to arrive early, because the Love Feast is popular with both Krishnas and non-Krishnas. The food is delicious and healthy, and the hosts are gracious. Questions are answered kindly, and proselytizing is minimal; the meal does, however, take place in a house of worship, so behave with appropriate decorum. And maybe leave your brand-new $400 Prada pumps at home and wear last year’s sneaks — guests are required to remove their shoes when entering the temple, and though you will receive a check chit for your shoes, accidents can happen. 3764 Watseka Ave.; (310) 836-2676. (Sandra Ross)

THANK YOU, MR. MONSTER

Forrest J. Ackerman’s Ackermansion. The preeminent archivist of the horror and sci-fi realms, editor of Famous Mon ster of Filmland magazine and coiner of the term "sci-fi," Forrest J. Ackerman ("Mr. Filmonster") has suffocated the 18 rooms of his Hollywood Hills estate (and basement "cemetery") with an overwhelming 300,000 pieces of memorabilia amassed over his 71-year career; from Bela Lugosi’s Dracula cape and Boris Karloff’s life mask to the decaying King Kong dinosaurs, Johnny X the Half Boy’s Freaks costume and Tim Burton’s replica Ed Wood saucers. Now an octogenarian, "Forry" has collected almost as many anecdotes as objects and on occasional Saturday mornings offers tours of his unbelievably stupendous "Ackermansion" to appreciative parties. By appointment. (213) MOON-FAN. (Skylaire Alfvegren)