What I'll Miss About Hollywood
And so begins LA Weekly's last day in Hollywood. Sunny, 72 degrees... 12 minute commute. As of Monday LA Weekly will be run out of offices nestled into the on-ramp of the 405 on the outskirts of Culver City with convenient access to the only store left in America that still sells Murphy Beds.
Here are a few things that I for one will miss about being in Hollywood. (The views expressed here are not necessarily those of the management of Village Voice Media.)
In no particular order....
Well, superheroes for one thing. And Christopher Dennis in particular. When I first started working in Hollywood 15 years ago (at Bong Load Records), I remember seeing shock and horror form on the faces of Australian and Japanese tourists as they got off he bus in front of the Chinese Theater. They traveled thousands of miles for this? Filth, abandoned buildings, dilapidated theaters and some downright aggressive homeless people - and that was before the sun went down.
Los Angeles Angels vs. Houston Astros
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Now, for better or worse, Hollywood is a lot closer to what they imagine they're going to see, and there's no better ambassador than Superman. Star of last year's excellent documentary, Confessions of a Superhero, Christopher Dennis is the de facto spokesman for the costumed actors who hang out on Hollywood Blvd. He's a kind, sweet guy, who always will make time to talk to you. While I took this picture at least half a dozen kids gathered around him, stunned, waiting to shake Superman's hand. Also coming up close as a favorite is the guy who plays Jack Sparrow, who really does look disturbingly like Johnny Depp. Craig Gaines wrote about him last year.
Photos by Mark Mauer. More after the jump.
If I ran a hot-dog stand in Hollywood, I'd rip-off Skooby's at every turn. A simple menu of garlic dogs, chili, and really good fries (with garlic sauce), surly but not unpleasant staff, and - most importantly - a soundtrack that rarely deviates from blasting full albums by the Clash. Sure, you can take your parents to Pink's when they come to town, but for lunch at 10% of the cost of Musso & Frank's across the street, it's Skooby's.
Speaking of which... Musso & Frank's
I like stories about Faulkner drinking himself to death at this place as much as anyone, but it's not my scene. Too pricey. Still, It makes the list of things to miss... Especially for Thursdays, which is chicken pot pie day.
Nothing clears my head faster than ducking into one of Hollywood's magic stores, Halloween supply shops or movie poster and book stores. Need a gorilla mask or a giant rubber rat? You can actually shop around and find the best one here. The other day at the poster store one of the guys running the place was talking about having gone to see The Ruins with Sid Haig. You're hanging out and seeing movies with Sid freaking Haig? To me, that's Hollywood.
LA Weekly's preferred watering hole, from edit to I.T. Lately though, it seems I'm mostly going there to bid farewell to co-workers who send out touching letters to the staff explaining there are no hard feelings. Despite its revamped interior from a couple of years ago, the spirit of the place is still strong, and Steven Mikulan's "Hollywood, Straight Up" article still hangs on the wall. It's a good read.
Church of the Blessed Sacrament
Walking out of the office at 9:30 at night (or 1:30 in the morning if you're the managing editor), into a mostly empty parking lot can wear on a guy after a few years, but sometimes seeing the Church of the Blessed Sacrament across the street from our office would make up for it. Crows fly between the steeple and the palm trees and the roof of our building back and forth throughout the day. You can hear them, scratching around above us (It's not rats, it's crows, really).
Crossroads of the World
Rumor is that the globe up there was broken for years. Former LA Weekly editor Kateri Butler got tired of seeing it sit motionless outside her office window and got someone to fix it. It now spins and lights up, and looks wonderful. Taschen Books is there, and some casting office, so that you can see hopefuls reading lines in their parked cars most days. There's also a recording studio in there where, where once upon a time, I worked with Solomon Burke and the Blind Boys of Alabama shooting a video for "None of Us Are Free."
And of course Big Audio Dynamite shot scenes from their video of "The Globe" here too.
For $1.25 I could get to work and get a little exercise and not have to drive my car (short as the commute was from Silver Lake). Don't try that in Culver City until the MTA line appears years from now. Copy editor Sheila Beaumont, news editor Alan Mittelstaedt and art director John Curry would be frequent train riding partners. Now there is a lot of talk around the office about various surface streets and how early the 405 backs up.
Stefania and Dell at Two Guy's From Italy Pizza. Marc Cooper told me yesterday he started eating there in 1967. You can still see sad souls there nursing beers before noon, but the pizza's good, and they have two excellently maintained pinball machines. They've also been providing the pies for our union meetings for years. You're not going to beat Stefania's high score on the "Theatre of Magic" pinball though.
For a week in February, a huge chunk of Hollywood Blvd. closes down entirely for the Oscars. There is 10x more security 5 days before the Oscars than there was 1 hour before the Democratic debate between Obama and Clinton earlier this year. But it is fun watching news crews from Japan and Israel standing in front of tacky souvenir shops reporting on all the glamor.
Drive near their Los Feliz HQ at 8:30 in the morning and you'll see the real ones, glassy-eyed, all wearing the same blue navy-like uniforms. But come 6 o'clock on Hollywood Blvd., they bring out their secret weapons: the cute girls in fashionable clothes who wear make-up and get their hair done regularly. They sit at card tables and try to convince dumb guys to get a personality test by holding cans with wires in their hands and ask them if they're "stressed." There's also the creepy "Industry of Death Museum" across the street from the Weekly where you can finally learn the truth about the evils of psychiatry. Don't make Matt Lauer's mistake and be "glib" when you visit.
There's more of course. In-stores at Amoeba, the sex stores, the Musician's Institute, the kids at Hollywood High, In-N-Out Burger, tons of graffiti, daily fender benders on Sunset and Las Palmas, the guy who polishes the stars on the ground (John Peterson: Peter Fletcher write about him here) and so on, but that's enough for now.
All photos by Mark Mauer.
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