Despite his recent years as a mush-mouthed Disney songster, I do concur with at least one sentiment of Randy Newman's, which is that "I Love LA". The City of Angels often gets a bad rap, sometimes deservedly so, what with the smog, riots, fires, mudslides, and tremors predicating the dreaded “big one.” Growing up in the buckle of the Bible belt, I couldn’t understand why anyone but godless entertainers and sad souls stuck in South Central would ever want to live here. Then, I made my first visit as an adult.
I’d been to New York and Chicago many times before, and when I pulled out of the rent-a-car lot, I’d prepared myself for the hassles of motoring in a metropolis. Then, accelerating onto the freeway, I was stunned…even with the 405 festooned with cars,
people were letting me in. This was the first taste I had of the laid-back West Coast…66 and sunny, wonderfully wedged between mountain and sea.
Now, I’m crashing with my best-old high-school buddy Raj for a couple of days, who lives in the thick of Hollywood, near enough to the action that I could chuck a souvenir shop statuette at the almost exclusively Asian horde photographing Whoopi Goldberg’s star. (Seriously, I’ve only seen far eastern tourists snapping shots of the dreadlocked dynamo’s sidewalk spot. Perhaps I should ask about this phenomenon when get to
Beijing…or perhaps not.) It’s always great to see an old friend, but it’s even better that in the handful of times I’ve stayed at the Casa de Sharma (the last time was to film my intellectual incompetence on Jeopardy!) I’ve had the opportunity to meet many of Raj’s friends, some of whom are (gasp!) native Angelinos. It makes for a more authentic experience, and gives me an undeserved sense of snobbish pride when carrying bags of groceries past rubes posing with grown men dressed as Chewbacca.
Last night, we went out for Mexican food (because I don’t think I’ll be eating much of it on my trip) and met Raj’s friend Amanda at a free Monday night show. Afterward, we stuck to our miserly theme, and went across the street for cheap happy hour beer. Not long after we’d arrived, a crew of loud inebriates made their way to the bar. Then, Amanda excitedly whispered, “That’s Johnny Drama!” Not having ever paid for HBO, I had no idea that she’d spotted Kevin Dillon, brother of actor Matt Dillon and member of the cast of
Entourage. Before long the boozy Mr. Dillon began to challenge his own entourage to bouts of sloppy arm wrestling. Amanda suggested that I take him on, if only to get a good picture for my blog. So, that’s what I did. Of course, I wasn’t about to risk my hernia and the trip as a whole on a drunken TV star, so I didn’t even move a muscle. However, he was surprisingly strong for his stature, so I reckon I would’ve lost anyway. Perhaps in the future he can star in a remake of
Over the Top. Since I’ve been to Hollywood before, I probably won’t be posting any of the hackneyed tourist pics that I’ll probably take at my future destinations. But rest assured, I’ll be enjoying my time with my suave SoCal pals while I’m here, and try to arm wrestle any other celebrities I happen upon.
