"Welcome to my Neighborhood."
Tiny and I get our tans from a booth instead of the sun. And we live in California where, yesterday, it was nearly 85 degrees with blue skies.
It's strange how I suspect that I'd take for granted any cultural advantage ever presented to me. I'd probably eat Ramen noodles in Venice, Italy and patron McDonald's in Tokyo, Japan. I hardly ever made snowmen when I lived in Wisconsin but, every now and then, I get the urge to, but can't. I either have difficulties adapting to accessability or I'm just quite set in my ways. Whichever way one looks at it, I don't see either as being 'good things'. I need to teach myself to take advantage.
Then again, I found comfort last night as I was indulging myself in a closet-addiction to this season's 'American Idol'. The contestants who traveled from all over the country were touring Los Angeles and visiting the "Walk of Fame", the Hollywood sign, and the beach in Santa Monica. Seeing and hearing their reactions to things like the Hollywood Bowl made me re-define what it is I've become. The Bowl is less than 2 miles from my home. If Los Angeles wasn't so noisy on it's own I'm sure I could hear the acts playing there each night from my bedroom's window. But, instead of reminding myself to appreciate the Hollywood Bowl, because it IS the Hollywood Bowl; one of the greatest musical venues in history, I allowed myself to continue to be un-impressed or un-effected by it's presence. And it's because I've crossed over to being an L.A.-local.
What I'm trying to express is what I can only convey in comparison. Me watching "American Idol" last night would be like my sisters watching a tractor plow a a field of corn and finding it fascinating. That's where I've found myself.
I asked my temp at work the other day if he'd been born in a barn because he left my office door open. He said, "What does that even mean? I don't understand why leaving a door open has anything to do with where I was born." I explained to him that it was an expression people use to imply that a person's un-civilized or, perhaps, not well-mannered. "Barns are an uncivilized environment? I still don't get it," he said, "that's too country of an analogy for me to understand." I answered, "You're right, Seth. I think I've been in a few more barns than you so just trust me." He surprised me when he replied, "Well if you've been in one at all, you've been in more than me. I don't think I've ever seen a barn on anything but television."
And this is what I'm talking about.
I've become a bit affected. I flip channels and see a Disneyland commercial; the actor went to the same IMTA as me. I flip again and see SCRUBS; I flew the entire cast to Vegas last April. I flip again and see Hillary Duff on an ICE BREAKERS commercial; she's on the same club circuit as me. So is the entire cast of Laguna Beach that decided to move North from Newport. I went to the grocery store the other night and saw Randy Jackson. I walked through the lobby at work and saw Robert Redford. I came home from work and had to get through Snoop Dogg's entourage to enter my parking garage. I watch South Park and their doing a parody involving Trev's Dad's band. I flip the channel again and see RockStar INXS re-runs; I watched the SuperBowl with the drummer's wife.
Hollywood's glitter's becoming din. And at least once I was able to see it sparkle. People like Trevor never did. It's always looked like cow pastures and Super Wal*Marts to him.
It all works out well though. Because citizens of Hollywood are egotistical enough to keep themselves in business. US Weekley shelves are empty on Friday and they only just hit the shelves the day before. Reality television shows like the Simple Life, the Newlyweds, Laguna Beach, and Viva La Bam; middle America watches them because the characters are monkey's. They're ridiculous personalities doing ridiculous things that are mostly unimaginable acts. People in Hollywood, though, they watch them to see if the stars go anywhere THEY can go to. They watch them to see what they should wear the next night to the club. And some of them, the really involved ones, watch them to see if they're shown anywhere in the background. Because they already KNEW about the Ivy restaurant before J.Lo went.
It's humorous really; the game. And sometimes, I'll admit, I like to play it.
It's strange how I suspect that I'd take for granted any cultural advantage ever presented to me. I'd probably eat Ramen noodles in Venice, Italy and patron McDonald's in Tokyo, Japan. I hardly ever made snowmen when I lived in Wisconsin but, every now and then, I get the urge to, but can't. I either have difficulties adapting to accessability or I'm just quite set in my ways. Whichever way one looks at it, I don't see either as being 'good things'. I need to teach myself to take advantage.
Then again, I found comfort last night as I was indulging myself in a closet-addiction to this season's 'American Idol'. The contestants who traveled from all over the country were touring Los Angeles and visiting the "Walk of Fame", the Hollywood sign, and the beach in Santa Monica. Seeing and hearing their reactions to things like the Hollywood Bowl made me re-define what it is I've become. The Bowl is less than 2 miles from my home. If Los Angeles wasn't so noisy on it's own I'm sure I could hear the acts playing there each night from my bedroom's window. But, instead of reminding myself to appreciate the Hollywood Bowl, because it IS the Hollywood Bowl; one of the greatest musical venues in history, I allowed myself to continue to be un-impressed or un-effected by it's presence. And it's because I've crossed over to being an L.A.-local.
What I'm trying to express is what I can only convey in comparison. Me watching "American Idol" last night would be like my sisters watching a tractor plow a a field of corn and finding it fascinating. That's where I've found myself.
I asked my temp at work the other day if he'd been born in a barn because he left my office door open. He said, "What does that even mean? I don't understand why leaving a door open has anything to do with where I was born." I explained to him that it was an expression people use to imply that a person's un-civilized or, perhaps, not well-mannered. "Barns are an uncivilized environment? I still don't get it," he said, "that's too country of an analogy for me to understand." I answered, "You're right, Seth. I think I've been in a few more barns than you so just trust me." He surprised me when he replied, "Well if you've been in one at all, you've been in more than me. I don't think I've ever seen a barn on anything but television."
And this is what I'm talking about.
I've become a bit affected. I flip channels and see a Disneyland commercial; the actor went to the same IMTA as me. I flip again and see SCRUBS; I flew the entire cast to Vegas last April. I flip again and see Hillary Duff on an ICE BREAKERS commercial; she's on the same club circuit as me. So is the entire cast of Laguna Beach that decided to move North from Newport. I went to the grocery store the other night and saw Randy Jackson. I walked through the lobby at work and saw Robert Redford. I came home from work and had to get through Snoop Dogg's entourage to enter my parking garage. I watch South Park and their doing a parody involving Trev's Dad's band. I flip the channel again and see RockStar INXS re-runs; I watched the SuperBowl with the drummer's wife.
Hollywood's glitter's becoming din. And at least once I was able to see it sparkle. People like Trevor never did. It's always looked like cow pastures and Super Wal*Marts to him.
It all works out well though. Because citizens of Hollywood are egotistical enough to keep themselves in business. US Weekley shelves are empty on Friday and they only just hit the shelves the day before. Reality television shows like the Simple Life, the Newlyweds, Laguna Beach, and Viva La Bam; middle America watches them because the characters are monkey's. They're ridiculous personalities doing ridiculous things that are mostly unimaginable acts. People in Hollywood, though, they watch them to see if the stars go anywhere THEY can go to. They watch them to see what they should wear the next night to the club. And some of them, the really involved ones, watch them to see if they're shown anywhere in the background. Because they already KNEW about the Ivy restaurant before J.Lo went.
It's humorous really; the game. And sometimes, I'll admit, I like to play it.