Silent World

Cour carrée du Louvre

Place de l'Opera

Place Montparnasse

Columbus Circle

Sixth Avenue

Speaking of Obscure Cities . . . "Silent World” is a series of photographs from Paris-based photographers Lucie and Simon. From New York and Paris to Beijing and Italy, these photographs are a depiction of some of the world’s most recognizable and busiest public outdoor spaces vacated and devoid of crowds.

I could look at these all day. And in fact, I have.

You can do the same here.

SAG-AFTRA, One Union

I've been fairly quiet, privately and publicly on the union merger, because, truthfully, I don't fully understand it. And yet, I voted for it. I voted for it, because as a very partially-employed actor who makes a little money under an AFTRA contract here, and a little money under a SAG contract there, the prospect of earning my way into Health and Pension coverage was slim to none. It'd be ages before I'd earn the minimum amount required by either organization. With my earnings coming under one jurisdiction, my chances will be much higher.

Also, I'd be thrilled to be a member of anything that this guy supports:

So now that the merger is official, I am proud that I voted for it. It's a historical moment, and I'm glad to be a part of it. Besides, I've always been a sucker for Hollywood history.

Hosting Hollywood

Two days after The Oscars, I filmed a segment for StyleHaul right in front of The Kodak. I spoke about the uncertain future of the theatre and the Academy, about the history of the Babylonian Arch, and referred, tongue-in-cheek, to my pursuit of a career in acting.

Filming at Hollywood and Highland filled me with a sense of pride for the place where I live, and made me feel even further attached to it, because now I've spoken on camera about my passion for it, and I've had a crowd gathered round, watching and listening. Made up mostly of tourists, they now know that Kodak is removing its name from the theatre, and that the arch is a reference to the history of the site.

I have no intention of becoming a tour guide or docent for Hollywood, but I would so love to host a local Globe Trekker-type show. Maybe I'll become the next generation Huell Howser.

That'd be the dream.

VIP Oscar Party

I have never been to the Oscars.  Nor have I been to a pre-Oscar industry party.  I want, badly, to attend both such things.  In the meantime, though, I enjoy being a resident of Hollywood during awards season, and witnessing, if only peripherally, the excitement.

Last Saturday night, Joseph and I went for one of our typical evening strolls through Hollywood.  We got dinner at Stout, each of us savoring their signature Stout burger, and jauntily sipping a few ales.

Then, we went to Musso and Frank (Charlie Chaplin's old haunt, if you didn't already know) for a good old Martini.  The bar was, of course, packed and we propped ourselves up on the divider wall between the bar and the restaurant while we sipped our cocktails.  We noticed that a group of people at the bar were in formal attire, and we assumed they'd just come from a pre-Oscar party.  They were also trashed. Bow ties hanging half undone, spaghetti straps slipping, updo's falling down.  Finally, with much drunken drama, they left and we took their seats, which were littered with wrappings from their swag bags.  At first, I pushed it all aside, but then I got to looking. They'd left not just the wrappings, but the swag.  The program revealed that they'd been to a fundraiser for cardiovascular disease research, honoring Larry King. I dug up  a handful of teas, a sample green tea toner, a sample moisturizer, a sample suncreen, a candle, a $100 gift certificate to a spa, and a certificate for a free facial peel from a different spa.

I felt . . . treated.  I love Oscar weekend.

Space Porn Mafia

I'd love your suggestions for this pitch to Joss Whedon.  Please watch, and leave a comment on the video!

History of The Kodak

History in Hollywood takes no time to build.  The Kodak Theatre is is just over 11 years old, and was designed to be a permanent home for the Academy Awards.  Kodak's contract has them paying $75 million over 20 years for the privilege of having its name appear in guilded letters over the grand entryway to the theatre.  That's $3.75 million a year, nothing to sneeze at for a bankrupt company, and now they're looking to get out of their contract, opening up the naming rights to anyone else with a big enough wallet.

The news has created a string of discussions, online and off, pontificating over the future of the theatre, especially with the added detail that the Oscars may be looking for a new venue.  These discussions are laden with nostalgia for the theatre, its name, and its "history" as the venue for the Oscars.

Councilman Eric Garcetti is asking for suggestions for who might take over the the naming rights, and as one would expect, the suggestions put forth in tweets and comments are mostly tongue-in-cheek.

"Facebook theatre. With all the money they will get from the IPO, they will be swimming in it."

"Tinseltown Theater brought to you by Dole Pineapple."

But then somebody offers this wonderful notion:

"How about the next name sponsor demonstrate (a.) Hollywood awareness and (b.) humility and generosity, by showing they know the theatre and its large adjoining courtyard are built on the spot where the giant set was built for the silent classic, INTOLERANCE. Name the home of the Oscars the D.W. Griffith Theatre. If it can't be Kodak, at least let it be appropriate."

I have to say I love the phrase "Hollywood awareness", both for its oxymoronish nature, as well its idealism.  I dare say, I possess Hollywood awareness - that is, I am a strong advocate for the neighborhood, and am very dedicated to defending its character, and to helping improve its (already significant) quality of life in any small way I can.

The "D.W. Griffith Theatre"with its call-back to our local culture's rich, if short, history is the perfect name for the soon-to-be former Kodak Theatre, but the question is, who would pay $75 Million for it, and where does that money even go?

More articles about The Kodak and its name debate:

http://www.scpr.org/news/2012/02/01/31073/kodak-wants-its-name-kodak-theatre-and-eric-garcet/

http://www.usatoday.com/life/movies/movieawards/oscars/story/2012-02-02/kodak-theater-hollywood-oscars/52935692/1

Only in Hollywood: Catwoman Pepper Sprays Jack Sparrow

My friend posted this video to facebook with the status "watch the video. then you will understand why it's worth the arsons, winds and decapitations..."

She's speaking, of course, of Hollywood, and I agree completely. Beneath the dust created by arson fires and then kicked up by the Santa Anas that scatter about sometimes bizarre, sometimes ghastly but infrequent crimes, there lies a city dense in character and always animated with fantastically unexpected affairs.

Below is the interview that KTLA5 did with Spiderman about an alleged incident involving Catwoman, pepper spray, and Jack Sparrow.  The best surprise here is Spiderman's voice.  In full costume, he speaks to news anchor Eric Spillman, his weak, slightly lilted voice explaining the dynamics that take place between the characters on Hollywood Blvd.

Click the image to watch the video.

Here are some great tidbits:

Eric Spillman: "Other people say it was actually Ozzy Osbourne, and not the pirate . . . and what about the report we have of an alien also being involved here and that the alien and the Ozzy Osbourne character were intoxicated?"

Spiderman: "Yeah, that's true, they are best buddies."

Eric Spillman: "I did reach Catwoman by phone . . . she told me she wasn't the catwoman who pepper-sprayed here.  She says it was the crazy catwoman."

First Friday of the Year - Hollywood, St. Germaine, Fuku Burger, Strangers

Joseph was excited about the weekend. He was IM'ing me every second of the last hour of the work day with ideas about our evening plans, and he finally, decisively declared that he wanted "burgers, Manhattans, and video games".  I suggested the usual: Stout, Umami, or The Bowery for the first two, we'd take care of the third at home later. He checked Scout Mob to see if there were any deals, and he found a "$30 for $50 Worth of Food and Drink" deal for FukuburgerLA on Cahuenga, as well as a happy hour event at Space 1520. Our plans took shape then and there.

We made one of of our typical strolls into Hollywood, walking past Franklin Village to see what was going on at UCB and to check up on the Scientology Celebrity Center - make sure those religious celebs weren't getting too rowdy - and then we turned onto Hollywood Blvd at Bronson, near what would normally be the always-lively crowds at the Music Box (sadly, it closed its doors this week, and last night it sat silent).

As we passed the W Hotel, we stopped to watch an a capella trio whoop it up in front of the Pantages. I desperately wish I'd gotten video of them, but they were so good that I got caught up in the moment, and forgot.

We arrived at Space 1520 to see that the happy hour was taking place within PUR, a vintage boutique.

A bartender mixed St. Germaine cocktails with a California Brut, and a DJ spun mashups while tipsy hipsters shopped the racks of carefully curated vintage.

I remarked on how very LA the clothing choices were, with lots of bright, Southwestern desert patterns, and Joseph mused on how very different the vibe of such an boutique would be if it were in San Francisco or New York. LA has a strong personality, and we like it.

After we'd over-indulged in St. Germaine, we walked around the corner to Fuku Burger. We've enjoyed the gourmet burger revival taking place in LA in recent years, and were excited to try another outpost. I ordered the Tamago Egg Burger, and devoured its Asian flavors in minutes. It is now, greasy hands-down, my favorite burger in LA.

From our table behind the bar, we had a straight-on view of the large television on the wall, which features a live feed of @fukuburgerla tweets. Joseph tweeted something about Fuku Burger being his new fave, but autocorrect changed the v to a c, making Fuku Burger his "new face". I tweeted a response, which prompted a surprising and hilarious exchange with some other folks in the restaurant, and we found ourselves crying from laughter over the whole thing.

As we wiped the tears from our faces, our server informed us that two men at the bar wanted us to join them for a couple of FukuBombs - a shot of sake dropped into a glass of Sapporo. The guys were great - funny and friendly, and we felt like tourists being treated by welcoming locals. The whole restaurant cheered as we guzzled our bombs.

It was a wonderful, very Hollywood night of walking, shopping, cajoling with strangers, and of course, drinking. I'm amazed I didn't wake up with a hangover.

How to Knit an Afghan

It's a simple thing to do, as I demonstrate in this video:

Holiday Mode: UniqueLA

I am in full-on holiday mode.  All I want to do these days is shop, bake, eat, knit, and drink cocktails.  UniqueLA satisfied all of my seasonal cravings.  Watch my video below to see what I came home with:

Some Thoughts on Occupy LA

Los Angeles suffers from a dearth of green space.

Occupy LA was evicted, and the lawn around City Hall is now a wasteland of dirt and debris.  Surfaces have been tagged with graffiti, and according to NBC, some of the debris is contaminated with urine and feces.

I believe there is a vast misdistribution of wealth in our nation.  I believe there is a severe need for more jobs, and a stronger economy.

I know that during the OWS movement, President Obama submitted the American Jobs Act to the Senate.  The Senate voted it down, and the President took it back to the drawing board.  The OWS movement uttered nary a word about it.

OWS missed an opportunity to make specific requests of our government.  In LA, it also missed the opportunity to lead by example, and to show respect for its city.

City Hall is a working service center for the people.  It is not a big bank, it is not a corporation.  Yes, it can be a liaison between people and business, but by damaging its property, we are damaging ourselves.  Our tax dollars pay for the clean up of what was previously a lush, green, public space in Downtown LA.  That is, until it was occupied by protesters who claimed to be fighting for, among other things, more funding for human services.

There is a contradiction of message here, and it bothers me.

Messy Thursdays

I hated every second of it, the yoga class I took this morning at the Hollywood YMCA.  It was only my second of the entire year, and the last one, nearly eight months ago, was all rest and relaxation.  The instructor of this morning's class, however, didn't seem profess to anything that could be called easy.  The room was filled well over-capacity, and the collective body heat created a rather unpleasant hotbox.  The man next to me was much too close, and he dripped sweat to the rhythm of Hetch Hetchy.  The intensity of the hatha flow had my every muscle trembling within the first fifteen minutes, and it didn't let up for the next sixty.

I had been unprepared to shower at the gym, because I hadn't expected to sweat as much as I did.  My hair was dripping, and my clothes were spotted with wet patches.  I only had ten minutes to get to work, so I quickly dowsed myself under a shower head, and got dressed.  I have spent the day at my fashion and beauty network production job with my face completely un-made up, and my nappy half-wet hair tied back into a pony tail.  I have done my best to appear vibrant and wakeful to all of my fashionista co-workers, despite knowing that my visage today is not up to snuff.

It's just something that I - and they - are going to have to get used to, because I do believe I will put myself through the same suffering each and every Thursday: rising early to claim a sliver of space in an over-crowded sweat-box so that my every muscle may tremble for ninety minutes, and then rushing to work wearing a basic, easy-to-throw on outfit, with my hair still wet and every blemish on my face visible to the world.  This is, after all, what I look like sometimes, and everyone may as well know it.

Autumn in LA

The air is different here.  The leaves on the deciduous trees have changed color, and the temperatures are seasonably cool.  Still, though, it's different.  Sixty-two degrees comes with a scent of warmth, comforting rays upon the face, instead of the nibbling chill of East Coast air.

This is nothing new.  This is Los Angeles.  Yet, after three and a half years, it is still surprising.  I'll probably always comment on it.