So I'm thinking about suing the city of Hollywood. I'm not kidding. The Hollywood Walk of Fame might be pretty to look at under the reflection of the boulevard's twinkling street lights (especially while inebriated), but whoever thought it'd be a good idea to make the glitter-specked sidewalk so silky-smooth wasn't thinking about LA's often relentless, albeit rare, rain showers, which make it slicker than an oil patch on an old driveway.
Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been running in the rain, but last night I had one of my typically tight-ass schedules, and despite my complete intolerance for driving around during a storm (yes, I am an LA native) I had to adhere to it.
First it was the Paper magazine LA issue party at Cinespace. Couldn't miss this one, especially since I contributed to the thing. I parked in the questionable little side street just west of Ivar, pulled out my trusty umbrella and made a run for it around the corner, just past Star Shoes, when slam! I slipped Dick Van Dyke-style and fell hard on my right knee, dead center on somebody's damn star. Was a little too pre-occupied to see whose it was, but it wasn't Johnny Cash's (pictured)… I know because Steffie and I shot this photo a few weeks back, and it's closer to Vine St. Anyway, my 99 Cents Only umbrella got thrashed but I still tried to use the crooked thing (it was raining bullets!) as I struggled to stand. “Dont get up,” a sweet Joan Jett-lookalike said as she walked by. “You could have broken something.”
True. But I was embarrassed and I wanted to play off my clumsiness. Still, it was so slippery and my knee was so weak, I actually couldn't get up on my own. I had to ask some burly security dude for help. “You're not the first person to slip right there,” he said comfortingly.
So there ya go. The Hollywood Walk of Fame is not only fucked up in it's selection process (I mean, c'mon they just gave Judge Judy a star but they can't give Rodney Bingenheimer one? ) but it's also a health hazard! Luckily, I didn't break anything but today my knee is five different shades of purple and pink (pretty actually) and as big as a grapefruit (not so pretty)….Anyone know a good lawyer?
Hobbling, I still made it to all of my engagements. The Paper party had to be a quick hi/bye thing unfortunately, but I did get an Addidas goodie bag (too bad I'd never wear a terry-cloth headband!). Then it was on to my sit-in at Indie 103.1's studio. If you heard “Blue Spark” last night about 9:45 p.m., it was moi who “programmed it”… well my new pals T.K. and Jose (pictured), who work the boards there actually put it on for me, and just for the record I requested the more obscure “We're Desperate” but they didnt have it.
It was pretty cool to be in the tiny room where I listen to Jonesy jam everyday, kinda like when you go to someone's house for the first time and then the next time you talk to them on the phone there's a new visual element to the conversation. Blanks are filled in.
(On a not-really related note, I met Chloe Webb, who played Nancy Spungen in Sid and Nancy last week at Pop Tarts, see pic, and she's so rad! See photo by Conrad Starr.)
Believe it or not after my Indie adventure (I hung out with Brent Bolthouse for about half of his show “Feel My Heat”) I actually returned to the scene of my stellar collision, Cinespace. Of course I walked very slowly along the boulevard to get there, even if it meant missing The Cult, who were scheduled to play a suprise set at 10. They didn't go on til midnight as it turned out (shocker!), but it was sooo worth the wait: they played all the best tracks off Electric, and ended their short set with the very appropriate later hit, “Here Comes The Rain.” Too perfect.
For full reports on the Paper party and The Cult show see Nightranger NEXT week. This week's column will feature reports on Jumbo's Clown Room, LAX, BFF at Beauty Bar, Rokbar, The Spider Club and Privilege. Yeah I've been busy beotches!