Reflections on a most peculiar two weeks...
So, it’s been exactly two weeks since I set foot in Los Angeles. Even though it didn’t take too long to find a place (I’ll get to that in a minute), it has been quite an ordeal trying to get the Internet up and running. Hopefully, by this afternoon everything will be kosher once again upon the endless stretch of the info highway. Until then, I will do my best to summarize the going-ons in my endlessly fascinating life. Feel free to skip as much as you want.
GO SOUTH YOUNG MAN!
How was the trip out here? In a word: rushed. I made the journey with my traveling companion and now roommate, DGenetics, an old chum from the life guarding days. We both were driving separate cars, communicating via walkie talkies. We set off on the morning of January 10th from lovely, old Potomac, Maryland. After a brief stop in Virginia to gas up, we pushed on into North Carolina, with the goal of making it to Atlanta for dinner.
On the way, we decided to meet an old friend of DGenetics for lunch in Durham, home of the fabled (and reviled) Duke University. Before we got there, an undercover police officer pulled over my traveling companion. I had been straggling a bit behind, so he did chose to let me go. Apparently, the officer greeted DGenetics with the question: “Do you want to go to jail?” Like any sane person, he replied, “No.”
The officer went on to explain that it was a crime of sorts to go over 80mph in the great state of North Carolina (the limit may have been 70 or 75 at that time, I don’t remember). My friend replied that he was definitely not going over 80, according to his odometer. The officer repeated his question of whether my friend would like to go to jail.
At this point, I would have been confused. Maybe I DO want to go to jail! No, wait. Huh? Anyway, DGenetics made the same reply and was told it was lucky that the officer didn’t have a spare 30 minutes, otherwise he would take him to jail. Instead he sent him off without even a warning. Don’t you just love the boys in blue? This would not be our first encounter with the law on this trip…
We continued on to Durham, which I had visited once upon a time when I was researching colleges. It was a bit nicer than I remembered, but I’m still glad I went to Philadelphia instead of a college town for undergrad. The friend in question was actually an ex of DGenetics, and while she seemed nice enough on the outside, there was something sort of sad about her general demeanor. Kind of removed, I guess. Either way, lunch was pretty good. Why I got carnitas when I was moving to the land of cheap awesome Mexican food is beyond me, but they were decent (and in American fashion, over proportioned). We ate and ran a few errands in town before hitting the road again.
The next few hours passed without much incident, save for the increasing amount of conservative Christian shows on the radio and a giant peach by the roadside. Oh, there was an awesomely weird bathroom in Georgia that instructed you not to flush any tampoons[sic] down the toilet. Damn the tampoons.
We pulled into the outskirts of the greater Atlanta area around 8:30 or so, some 12 hours since we left our homes in Maryland. 12 hours down, many more to go. DGenetics had arranged for us to stay with a friend of his from undergrad who was living in a cushy townhouse with the softball coach of the school he was currently attending for med school. This friend, let’s call him Genmai-cha (after an awesome tea he served us for breakfast the next day), knew of a good Thai joint near to the townhouse. We were joined by another undergrad cohort of theirs and Tallahassee’s own Nasty Nate. N.N. has been residing in Atlanta since graduation and is not so enthralled with his life which is currently taken up with shifts at Best Buy and a Catering job. The meal was fast and tasty. I went with the coconut soup and chicken with spicy basil leaves. Nasty went with the Pad Thai with shrimp, the leftovers of which he generously gave to us for breakfast the next day. There’s nothing like a little Pad Thai to start your morning off with…
GO WEST YOUNG MAN!
We awoke the next day to the aforementioned green tea and Pad Thai. After waiting for traffic to die down, we bade our farewells to Genmai-cha and set off on route 20 heading West. It felt oddly comforting to be heading West. Like we turned a corner or something. The maps said we had a 14 hour journey ahead of us. DGenetics was convinced we could do it in 12. I had my doubts, but resolved to give it a shot.
We stopped for an early lunch in Birmingham, Alabama (We Want You Here!) to have lunch with one and only Big Bear Fowler. I had not accounted for the time zone difference and was worried he would not be up (Big Bear don’t rise up early), but I managed to catch him on the phone when we were about 25 minutes outside the city, thanks to an accident which had traffic backed up for a few minutes. We met at a BBQ joint near Big Bear’s house. The name escapes me at the moment, but suffice to say, they served up a storm of food. I went with a ridiculously large baked potato stuffed with sour cream, cheese, and BBQ pork. I know, I can hear your arteries clogging from here just reading that. I couldn’t manage to finish more than 2/3 of it, but it was mighty tasty. It was good seeing Big Bear again. I hope he makes it out to L.A. in the next few months like he said he was planning on.
Our bellies full, we took off once again on route 20, heading through Mississippi and Louisiana without much incident, aside from a silly stretch where we attempted to take photos of each while driving. Pretty stupid, now that I think about it. Oh well. It was about this time that it was becoming clear that we were in it for the long haul. Once again, DGenetics had arranged accommodations for us with his godfather in Dallas. We crossed the Texas border under the shroud of nightfall. Odd to note that Texas has a different speed limit for day hours and for night. We found out the reason why later. Anyway, we were going about 68 (the limit at night being 65), but everyone else seemed to be doing 80.
We stopped briefly for some food at a Wendy’s. I was debating buying some fast food (I told myself I didn’t want to eat any on the trip) and entered the establishment, heading straight for the bathroom. No other customers were present and I don’t think the employees even noticed me enter. At least I assume they didn’t because as I opened the door to the restroom, I heard the distinct sound one associates with the hocking of a loogie. I quickly decided not to purchase any food and intended to warn DGenetics when he came in; unfortunately, he had already ordered by the time I exited the bathroom. I informed him outside, and he seemed concerned, but braved it anyway. He’s still alive, so no harm done, I guess? I chose to munch on the Chianti salami I bought from Trader Joe’s. Very tasty, but bits got stuck in my teeth fairly easily.
A few hours later, we arrived in the greater Dallas/Fort Worth area. It was already close to midnight by that time. Dallas toll road operators are a fickle bunch. Some are really nice, others terribly rude. I guess it’s the same in most states, but I’m going to chalk it up to another thing I hate about Dallas. The city itself, or what little I saw as we headed to the eastern side, seemed like one giant strip mall. Sort of like Orlando without Disney, and really, what’s the point of that?
We finally arrived at The Godfather’s house, to which I extended my thanks and wishes that his next child be a masculine child. Actually, I just sat in road daze and drank some water quietly while watching his BIG ASS widescreen TV. 20 minutes later, I was sleeping soundly in a comfy bed, wondering what the hell I missed while I drove through the endless dark. Texas was still very much a mystery to me at this point. A mystery I would soon unravel…
THE BRIGHT LIGHTS OF CIVILIZED MEXICO!
The next morning found us waking to a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon and a display of The Godfather’s new surround system for his BIG ASS widescreen TV. If you haven’t watched an Earth Wind and Fire concert on DVD blasting at 8 am in the morning then you’ve been missing out. We were on the road by 8:30 and heading West across the “great” state of Texas.
The weather was quite crappy for the morning. Sheets of rain were falling, making the place seem more desolate and curbing any enthusiasm for stopping at interesting looking roadside attractions, like a rattlesnake farm or the like. DGenetics had resolved for us to get all the way to Phoenix that night. While I have nothing against free accommodation, this was testing even my limits for amount of driving desired for one day. It might also behoove me to point out that Genetics’ girlfriend lives in San Diego, a mere 6 hours from Phoenix. Perhaps the reasoning for our quickened pace has become clearer, my faithful readers.
Needless to say, we found ourselves at a rest stop in Texas eating at Popeye’s for lunch. I was too hungry to protest and it was this or snack as we drove, which I was loathe to do at this point. I’ll never get used to the amount of smoking in the south, or the fact that the smoking section and nonsmoking section is simply the opposite sides of a room not larger than your typical high school classroom. However, the fried chicken was tasty and the counter clerks were very nice. Soon, we hit the road again and within an hour the rain ceased, making the drive a bit more bearable.
We stopped at my request to take some photos from time to time. I’ve flown over the desert countless times, but had never seen it from the ground. What I discovered was that the desert in Texas is very much different than the desert in New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Each has their own distinct features and feel. Texas was definitely desert-like, but with a lot more trees and shrubs than I expected. Still, it reached in all directions, reminding me that a large part of this country is simply empty. So much so that you can see rain storms drifting down in the distance, looking not unlike inky tentacles from the clouds. There were some large hills too, over which we saw a spectacular sunset. You know the line in ‘America the Beautiful,’ that goes something to the likes of “Purple mountains ‘tis of thee..”? Well, I get that now. Simply gorgeous.
I also saw my first coyote and tumbleweed in Texas.
As the sun fell and we hooked up with route 10, we drew closer to the Mexican border. It started with a few twinkling lights on the dark hills in the distance and soon grew to a large field of grounded stars. The funny thing was that the American side was extremely dark and deserted, whereas Mexico seemed to shine on with a life and energy all its own. Sadly, this was as close as I was going to get to our neighbors to the south, and still, we drove on till we reached the city of El Paso. Originally, we had intended to stay the night in the city, but due to the girlfriend issue and El Paso’s slightly seedy reputation, we only stopped for dinner. We found a small Mexican taco joint where we got three tacos each and holy guacamole, Batman, where they tasty! I’m pretty sure were the only non-Mexicans in the place, too. Sadly, DGenetics left a giant log in the toilet which refused to flush. I think we tipped extra due to our knowledge of this.
On the road again, we entered New Mexico. I could barely make out what was lurking in the distance. From what I could tell, there were giant cacti near the side of the road and rock formations in the distance. Sadly, I have no idea if that was really there. It wasn’t much of a compensation, but the stars were spectacular that night. Too bad my viewing of them was limited to occasionally looking up through my sunroof for a few seconds before reverting my attention back to the road. Sigh.
We finally rolled into Genetics’ grandparents condo community around 2:30 in the morning Mountain time (4:30 back on my beloved East Coast), a whopping 19 hours after we left Texas (HELPFUL HINT: DON’T EVER DO THIS) His grandparents were waiting with bowls of soup and the loudest filtered water unit I have ever heard. As tired as I was, I couldn’t help but notice how nice it is to have grandparents who fuss all over you and live to make you happy. Made me really my own, the last of which passed away almost three years ago. Almost an hour (!) later, I found myself passing out on the couch with the sound of the water filter gurgling and lulling me to la la land as I dreamed about what I missed in New Mexico and what I may never see again.
SEXILED IN PARADISE
So, morning came way too early, but it’s hard to complain when you get treated to eggs and bacon for the second day in a row, with slices of juicy ruby red grapefruit to boot. Genetics’ aunt and uncle also came over to visit. Both were a bit on the spaced out/ex-hippy side, but were nice to talk to regardless. After some quality visiting time, we were once again on the road with a picnic lunch to boot from Grandma Genetics.
We only had a mere six hours to go till San Diego, a mere drop in puddle compared to the prior day. After what was probably the coolest little stretch of road on the trip (really windy through the desert with the occasional dead cow or armadillo on the side of the road) we decided to stop at Dateland, a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere (the desert really looked like the desert at this point) where someone once had the bright idea of trying to start a date grove. “Try the world famous Date Shakes!” the billboard said. Billboards don’t lie, do they? So I got a date shake and DGenetics got a cactus shake. The date shake? Not bad. The cactus shake? Not so much…
We got on the road again and it was around this point that I was informed by DGenetics that his girlfriend asked that I not show up at the house right away when we to San Diego and would I mind just waiting at the coffee house a few blocks away for 30 minutes or so? Never mind the fact that I had been driving at an insane pace for three and a half days across the country. I tried my best not to make a stink about it, but my general unhappiness with this arrangement was evident enough.
Of course, being in a long distance relationship myself, it’s understandable that after having not seen one another for a while, one can want some private time, but come on. Some things are just a bit plain rude and insensitive. So, instead of driving into San Diego together, I elected to stop on the side of the road through a mountain passage to take some photos and let DGenetics go on ahead. I even stopped again at a rest stop to wander around a bit, read over some script notes from Nasty Nate.
All in all, I arrived in San Diego a little after 6:30, probably about an hour later than DGenetics by my estimates. I called when I exited the freeway and was asked if I wouldn’t mind waiting till 8. Oh SIGH. At this point, I was getting frustrated and pulled into the coffee house to stew. After ordering a pot of Jasmine tea, I was able to recharge my phone. I looked into just driving up to Orange County to crash with my Uncle, but he and his family were on the way out to dinner. No dice. Didn’t feel like going to Los Angeles and I didn’t feel like searching around the town, so I just made some calls and wrote down some script ideas. Finally, around 8:15 or so I was able to enter the den of sin and put my stuff down only to find out that the heater was broke in the house and it was freezing. OH SIGH.
I met Genetics’ girlfriend (let’s call her the Sexiler for now) who made no mention of the situation, which was probably for the better. The three of us went out for sushi, which was sort of on the mediocre side. We returned to the house, which was actually quite nice, but still freezing. It had a very nice view of the San Diego harbor from the roof. Some of Sexiler’s roommates were having a few friends over. I started to notice the ridiculous West Coast accent, which for all intents and purposes just makes me laugh. If I ever start talking like this, please shoot me. One guy tried to tell me about this cool guy called Ali G who is Borot{sic}’s other character. He’s on some show called “the Ali Show. It’s like on HBO or something. I saw like four episodes the other day.” Told him I never heard of it, only Da Ali G show. The joke was lost upon this space case who informed me that he was a high school English teacher. I feel sorry for America’s future.
The group went out, but the three of us stayed behind to sit and watch Half Baked, which was pretty much as dumb as I thought it would be, but Dave Chappelle occasionally exhibited the flashes of what would be come his trademark sense of humor. I finally went to sleep under about 7 blankets with a space heater nearby. It felt not unlike sleeping by a campfire in the middle of the woods.
GO NORTH YOUNG MAN!
I woke up the next morning after a fairly restful night under my mountain of blankets. I debated whether to sleep some more, but I could see my breath inside the apartment and decided to cut loose while I could. I took off as the sun was shining brightly and arrived in Laguna Beach just over an hour later. It was at this point that I realized that California drivers are INSANE. I had chalked up the errant and reckless drivers of the previous night up to the fact that I was looking for my exit and going a bit slower than usual. My thinking is that that they are so used to the being stuck in traffic that they have no idea what to do when then there’s the slightest bit of open road.
Irregardless, I pulled up in enough time to shower and clean myself up a bit before my Uncle’s family headed off to church. It was a fairly progressive Catholic church. Almost new age. Strange. ‘Course, I could just be out of touch, since I’ve been to mass a grand total of 5 times in the last year. Luckily, one of my cousins ThinkPink (who, consequently has grown about a foot or so since last I saw her two years ago) was able to make sure I wasn’t too lost. And there were coffee and donuts afterwards, and they weren’t even the donut holes I’m used to. Bonus!
After returning for a breakfast of oatmeal with dried mango and papaya mixed in (Hello, California), I settled in and finally relaxed for a bit. Spent most of the afternoon talking and catching up with my Uncle, which was nice. He took me around the area and showed me this wonky Japanese-sponsored college. It was very beautifully designed, and freaking expensive to attend. I got to catch the end of the Chargers loss to the Patriots and then my Aunt and my other cousin The Guinea Queen arrived. I caught up some more and eventually we had a nice dinner with roast chicken, sweet potatoes, and salad. We watched Back to the Future on TV and broke open about five different homemade spirits. Babies don’t sleep this well.
The next morning was MLK Day, so the girls had the day off. We ended up driving to the beach and exploring the neato tide pools along the coral reef. Sea anemones, crabs, fish, urchin, all this cool stuff was just sitting there. My Uncle is the type that knows pretty much everything about these pools, including the trick of how to bring out the creatures hiding by tearing up a shellfish and throwing pieces into the water. Lovely.
We hit up their favorite Mexican joint on the way back and brought it back to the house. It was pretty damn tasty. Good chips, salsa, guacamole, stuffed peppers, carnitas tacos, bean and cheese burritos, and a few other things to boot. Cheap too. I tried some kind of drink that reminded me of drinking cinnamon spiced rice pudding. It was interesting, but I’m not sure I could handle a whole glass. My cousins wolfed them down though. Ah, to be young and sugar friendly again.
UNDER A CLOUD OF SMOG
The next day, I set off for Los Angeles. Even before I got near to the city I could spot the brownish skies above it. Never has there been a more un-welcoming sight, expect for perhaps the landfill and smell that greets you when you cross the I-76 bridge into Philadelphia. I arrived at another cousin’s house in San Pedro just over an hour later. After briefly visiting with his wife and two kids, DGenetics picked me up and apartment hunting we did go.
We began by seeing a place he had seen on the net. The price was right but, as soon as we got off the expressway, it was very clear that this was not the kind of neighborhood we wanted to live in. The place itself was nasty and you had to go through one bedroom to get to another. No, bro!
The next place we saw was equally bad and so we journeyed into West Hollywood to visit the famed Goatfarmer. I had not seen the Goatfarmer since August or so, having just missed each other in DC this Christmas. We hung out for a bit and saw what he’d been doing to his place and he gave us a Thomas Guide map to use for the time being. We started combing the streets and looking for Rent signs. We would call and if possible get info on price, availability, and when we could see the place. We were able to see inside one place that was OK, but kind of smallish.
We eventually stopped by the apartment of a friend of DGenetics, The BlaZer. We were able to use the BlaZer’s computer to get on craigslist and check for apartments available in the area and made a few more calls. Luckily, one of the places was able to let us see it that night. The moment we entered, we knew this was a promising lead. The living room and one bedroom were already painted. The floors were beautiful hardwood. It had a big gas fireplace, decent sized kitchen with a new stove, fridge, and filtered water to boot. It was big, but not too big. To make matters better, it had a backyard with a porch, table, chairs, and garden where we could plant stuff if we wanted. It even had a fig tree.
When asked about when we wanted to move in, we told our guide, Kool Keith, that as soon as possible was preferred. Not that he wasn’t positive before, but when he heard that, Kool was even more positive, explaining that the landlord wanted to fill the place as soon as possible too. Makes sense, since he’d be losing money for any day that someone wasn’t there. We applied and crossed our fingers.
That night I had dinner with the Goatfarmer at a vegetarian Thai restaurant (Hello, California), which was surprisingly tasty. If you hadn’t told me that I was eating fake chicken, I probably couldn’t have spotted it. The Goatfarmer gave me a ride back to my cousins and I hit the sack soon after.
A SMORGASBOARD OF LANDLORDS
We had some appointments to see some other places in the morning, just in case the apartment from the previous day fell through. I got concerned when we had to come back to the place and have our licenses photocopied. We saw one place in West Hollywood that was really nice, but way too expensive, not to mention a pain in the ass to apply to. We went to lunch at a Vietnamese joint in the Silverlake vicinity and started walking around the stores in the area when we got the call: We had been approved.
We went back a bit later and signed the paperwork and began to move stuff in (both of our cars were still fairly packed, although DGenetics had left some of his stuff in San Diego). Soon after we had finished, Kool Keith came down with the landlord. I haven’t thought of a good codename for him yet, so let’s just call him The Traveler for right now (since according to his stories, he’s been a bit of everywhere, done a bit of everything and everyone). The Traveler lit our fireplace and brought us some takeout menus from decent places in the area. He also let us borrow his space heater for the bathroom since it gets a bit colder than the rest of the place. Nice gesture, in my opinion. Kool Keith essentially handles all the day to day issues and the Traveler is also there to help out.
Since DGenetics did not have a bed and the place was still cold, neither of us slept in the place that night. The next day, we moved some more stuff in and went to Ikea. I am officially enamored with Ikea. So much stuff, so little time. Plus meatballs. And if you’re really in the mood for a deal, try the two (count ‘em: TWO) hot dogs, huge bag of chips, and drink for $2.50. THAT’S what I call Swedish ingenuity. I think we’ve been back to Ikea four times since. Craigslist is also my new friend. Especially the freestuff section. We just got our couch for free and a nice rug for cheap.
SLAMMING MORMONS
I spent my first night in the apartment (note to self: need to come up with a name for the pad) by myself, and I slept quite well. The next morning, I was off to LAX to catch a flight to Salt Lake City. My reason: attending the premiere of Caress of the Creature, the thesis film I labored over last year. It was the first FSU film to get into SlamDance, so that was cool. Even cooler was the fact that we got a short (but positive) review on Aintitcool.com Check it out: http://www.aintitcool.com/node/31292
I took a cab to the hotel where the director and editor of the flick were staying and crashed out. They came back later and we went out to Marie Calendar’s for the biggest salads known to man and pie. Lots of pie.
The next day we went exploring in Park City, the quiet little mountain town that gets assaulted every year by Sundance and SlamDance and Tromadance and who knows what else? Don’t feel bad though. Every joint in town jacks their prices up for those two weeks. Parking is ridiculous unless you get into the one tiny free lot on the top of the hill. Real racket they got going on.
SlamDance was being held at a hotel on the top of Main Street. They had two screening rooms, both smaller than I expected. The one for features had about a capacity of 200 people or so while the one for the shorts and some of the other documentaries held about 100 people. SlamDance is kind of like the red haired black sheep step child of Sundance. Really indie. Really artsy. Pretentious in many ways, but also very supportive. Not once did I hear a boo or nay saying, even though some films were utter garbage. Another way to think about SlamDance: have you ever been to see a band play and you realize that about 75% of the people in the audience with you are in the other bands playing that night? It’s kind of like that.
Anyway, after one of the most frustrating lunches ever, we saw one of the blocks of shorts and all five of them were pretty bad. One of them was OK, but really, most of them were garbage. I wanted to slap the director of one of them who was up there for a Q & A, but decided against it despite his obvious lack of talent or insight whatsoever. This of course was not helped by the moderator who lobbed up softballs a no armed fisherman could still hit, yet somehow this kid was Casey at the Bat to the nth degree. Oh SIGH.
We went to a cocktail party that night. I like drinking for free. Most people there were cool, but a lot of them just wanted to push their films. Met some genuinely nice students from Univ. of Central Florida though. We also met one Billy Baldwin, star of the cinematic tour de force, Curdled. The Editor and I had enough drinks in us to approach him and tell him how Curdled ruled. His response: “You saw that?”
You can’t make this stuff up.
He was actually rather nice. I had heard he and The Smoking Beard had fallen out at some point, but he asked us if we were still in contact with him and to give him his regards. He’s a charmer, that Billy Baldwin. I wish I knew how to quit him.
I think we also went to a documentary that night on some dude who made a name for himself by rooting through Bob Dylan’s garbage. Interesting and not badly made, but I felt it should have been about 20 minutes shorter. Or maybe that was due to the three free beers bursting to get out of my bladder. Either way, I couldn’t have been happier when the credits rolled…only to watch the directors get up for a Q & A. Damn my politeness…
Sunday was the premiere of our film. We got into town relatively early and attended a brunch sponsored by the Maryland Film Office. MD represent, yo! I introduced myself to the head of the office. I felt sort of dumb starting a conversation based on the sole fact that I was from the Rockville/Potomac area, but he was really nice and told me about an annual(?) conference for MD filmmakers in L.A. that he can send me info about. So, that was cool. We also met this Norwegian/Swedish couple who were premiering their film that night too. It was a horror/slasher set in Norway about a lost group of snowboarders. I’ll get to that later.
We started going up and down Main Street looking for places to hang our posters. It’s a dog eat dog world in the poster hanging business. You can put one up and five minutes later come back to see it plastered over by four posters from the same freaking film. Obnoxious? Rude? That’s the film business, baby!
We were in Shorts Block 2 that afternoon. It was a packed room and I have to say that this block of shorts was easily one of the best that I saw. All five of the films were at least decent, with two that I genuinely liked. Our film played well and I’d say about 75% of the jokes hit. Not bad. You can’t expect to have the same kind of screening that you have in Tallahassee. Nice to see how a neutral audience views the film and laughs because something is funny and not necessarily because a worker is being played by one Buff Stuckey (not to say Buff Stuckey ain’t funny. But I digress). The Q & A went fairly well afterwards and the Director was nice enough to give me and the Editor props. I would have gone up to participate, but the moderator was only calling up directors and sort of had the “If you aint’t the director, then I could give a fuck” air about him the other night at the cocktail party. His loss.
Afterwards, we reveled in our happy little adventure and went out for Sushi and (sort of) hot Miso soup. It was tasty, but expensive, like everything else in Park City. It did have the added bonus of providing us a window view so that when Gary Coleman walked by in a Cowboy hat, joygasms everywhere exploded in unison.
We then managed to get ourselves into a Sundance party taking place a block or so down the road at a nice bar. Free draft beer and well drinks, football on the TV, and even free quarters for the pool table. This is the life! We met some nice guys from Mississippi and drank as much as we could.
At this point, the Editor and Director retired for some private time, leaving me all to my lonesome to check out the pre-party for the Norwegian film, Coldprey, not to be confused with the English band that has a penchant for writing weepy catchy Brit-pop that you would never admit to like but can tap your toes to. It was not as packed as some of the cocktail parties, so I ended up hanging out with the directors. I ended up mostly talking about how to raise your kids bilingual, since they are doing that with their daughter.
The Film started around 10 or so. It was pretty decent as far as slashers go. Nothing too out of the ordinary or unpredictable, but the scares and blood came when they should have, but I do have to say that there was a sincere lack of T & A that most Slashers are known for. I guess when you’re in the mountains of Norway, you don’t get inspired to run around in a bikini or less too often. Damn shame. I’d liken it most to Halloween. You know who the killer is but you don’t know why. Less open ended than Halloween though. Apparently, the film has already played theatres in Norway and was the Norwegian #2 box office smash of all time (of Norwegian films). Norwegians love their slashers, I guess.
Afterwards, I hung around the lobby waiting for the Director to pick me up and there was an extra SlamDance poster lying around so happy birthday to me. The next day, the Editor and I were flying out and so we packed our stuff up and headed to Salt Lake City. After driving around town for a bit, it felt like the town was half deserted. We parked at a mall and looked for something to eat inside. A good number of the stores were closed or going out of business. We sat inside a Mormon Gift Shop for five minutes before the store owner/clerk came out from the backroom. This was enough time of course to see such awesome T-shirts like “Mormon Girls: Worth the Wait” and “No Drinking. No Swearing. No Sinning. But STILL HAVING A GOOD TIME!”
If only I weren’t a poor ex-student.
The man at the store recommended the restaurant in Macy’s. It actually turned out to be a good find. Nice atmosphere, man playing on piano, good food, and really cheap. Who’d a thunk it? We all the chicken cordon bleu with potatoes and veggies. After some freeway hijinks, we got to the airport and headed home. One of my cousins was in town visiting another cousin, so I went to have a late dinner with them. Around Midnight, I finally returned home. DGenetics has been in San Diego that weekend and when he saw Kool Keith a bit earlier, he said we won the prize for quietest tenants ever. Hopefully, they didn’t get too used to that…
THE FUTURE!
We used the week to get the apartment on its way to being set up as we were interviewing for jobs, internships, the like. At the end of the week, we managed to get his bedroom painted and pretty much set up. I’m waiting on a bed frame and a rug to finish up my room so I can start hanging the rest of my posters. We met our downstairs neighbor on Tuesday. He seems fairly cool and recommended a bunch of places to eat in the area, one of which I have already check out and given my seal of approval to. Buff Stuckey and TopDown came to visit one night, I had dinner with Houston and The French Connection another night, and a big mess of us went out for Korean BBQ on Saturday.
The Sexiler came up for the weekend and the three of us explored Griffith Park for a few hours and went up to the Observatory. The Planetarium chairs were so comfy I almost fell asleep during the show. Pretty neat. I also saw the place where the knife fight scene took place in Rebel Without a Cause. Not a bad weekend.
So, my general feeling is that while I am not in love with L.A. just yet, I should be able to survive here for a few years anyway. Time will tell, I suppose…
It’s a strange world. Let’s keep it that way.
GO SOUTH YOUNG MAN!
How was the trip out here? In a word: rushed. I made the journey with my traveling companion and now roommate, DGenetics, an old chum from the life guarding days. We both were driving separate cars, communicating via walkie talkies. We set off on the morning of January 10th from lovely, old Potomac, Maryland. After a brief stop in Virginia to gas up, we pushed on into North Carolina, with the goal of making it to Atlanta for dinner.
On the way, we decided to meet an old friend of DGenetics for lunch in Durham, home of the fabled (and reviled) Duke University. Before we got there, an undercover police officer pulled over my traveling companion. I had been straggling a bit behind, so he did chose to let me go. Apparently, the officer greeted DGenetics with the question: “Do you want to go to jail?” Like any sane person, he replied, “No.”
The officer went on to explain that it was a crime of sorts to go over 80mph in the great state of North Carolina (the limit may have been 70 or 75 at that time, I don’t remember). My friend replied that he was definitely not going over 80, according to his odometer. The officer repeated his question of whether my friend would like to go to jail.
At this point, I would have been confused. Maybe I DO want to go to jail! No, wait. Huh? Anyway, DGenetics made the same reply and was told it was lucky that the officer didn’t have a spare 30 minutes, otherwise he would take him to jail. Instead he sent him off without even a warning. Don’t you just love the boys in blue? This would not be our first encounter with the law on this trip…
We continued on to Durham, which I had visited once upon a time when I was researching colleges. It was a bit nicer than I remembered, but I’m still glad I went to Philadelphia instead of a college town for undergrad. The friend in question was actually an ex of DGenetics, and while she seemed nice enough on the outside, there was something sort of sad about her general demeanor. Kind of removed, I guess. Either way, lunch was pretty good. Why I got carnitas when I was moving to the land of cheap awesome Mexican food is beyond me, but they were decent (and in American fashion, over proportioned). We ate and ran a few errands in town before hitting the road again.
The next few hours passed without much incident, save for the increasing amount of conservative Christian shows on the radio and a giant peach by the roadside. Oh, there was an awesomely weird bathroom in Georgia that instructed you not to flush any tampoons[sic] down the toilet. Damn the tampoons.
We pulled into the outskirts of the greater Atlanta area around 8:30 or so, some 12 hours since we left our homes in Maryland. 12 hours down, many more to go. DGenetics had arranged for us to stay with a friend of his from undergrad who was living in a cushy townhouse with the softball coach of the school he was currently attending for med school. This friend, let’s call him Genmai-cha (after an awesome tea he served us for breakfast the next day), knew of a good Thai joint near to the townhouse. We were joined by another undergrad cohort of theirs and Tallahassee’s own Nasty Nate. N.N. has been residing in Atlanta since graduation and is not so enthralled with his life which is currently taken up with shifts at Best Buy and a Catering job. The meal was fast and tasty. I went with the coconut soup and chicken with spicy basil leaves. Nasty went with the Pad Thai with shrimp, the leftovers of which he generously gave to us for breakfast the next day. There’s nothing like a little Pad Thai to start your morning off with…
GO WEST YOUNG MAN!
We awoke the next day to the aforementioned green tea and Pad Thai. After waiting for traffic to die down, we bade our farewells to Genmai-cha and set off on route 20 heading West. It felt oddly comforting to be heading West. Like we turned a corner or something. The maps said we had a 14 hour journey ahead of us. DGenetics was convinced we could do it in 12. I had my doubts, but resolved to give it a shot.
We stopped for an early lunch in Birmingham, Alabama (We Want You Here!) to have lunch with one and only Big Bear Fowler. I had not accounted for the time zone difference and was worried he would not be up (Big Bear don’t rise up early), but I managed to catch him on the phone when we were about 25 minutes outside the city, thanks to an accident which had traffic backed up for a few minutes. We met at a BBQ joint near Big Bear’s house. The name escapes me at the moment, but suffice to say, they served up a storm of food. I went with a ridiculously large baked potato stuffed with sour cream, cheese, and BBQ pork. I know, I can hear your arteries clogging from here just reading that. I couldn’t manage to finish more than 2/3 of it, but it was mighty tasty. It was good seeing Big Bear again. I hope he makes it out to L.A. in the next few months like he said he was planning on.
Our bellies full, we took off once again on route 20, heading through Mississippi and Louisiana without much incident, aside from a silly stretch where we attempted to take photos of each while driving. Pretty stupid, now that I think about it. Oh well. It was about this time that it was becoming clear that we were in it for the long haul. Once again, DGenetics had arranged accommodations for us with his godfather in Dallas. We crossed the Texas border under the shroud of nightfall. Odd to note that Texas has a different speed limit for day hours and for night. We found out the reason why later. Anyway, we were going about 68 (the limit at night being 65), but everyone else seemed to be doing 80.
We stopped briefly for some food at a Wendy’s. I was debating buying some fast food (I told myself I didn’t want to eat any on the trip) and entered the establishment, heading straight for the bathroom. No other customers were present and I don’t think the employees even noticed me enter. At least I assume they didn’t because as I opened the door to the restroom, I heard the distinct sound one associates with the hocking of a loogie. I quickly decided not to purchase any food and intended to warn DGenetics when he came in; unfortunately, he had already ordered by the time I exited the bathroom. I informed him outside, and he seemed concerned, but braved it anyway. He’s still alive, so no harm done, I guess? I chose to munch on the Chianti salami I bought from Trader Joe’s. Very tasty, but bits got stuck in my teeth fairly easily.
A few hours later, we arrived in the greater Dallas/Fort Worth area. It was already close to midnight by that time. Dallas toll road operators are a fickle bunch. Some are really nice, others terribly rude. I guess it’s the same in most states, but I’m going to chalk it up to another thing I hate about Dallas. The city itself, or what little I saw as we headed to the eastern side, seemed like one giant strip mall. Sort of like Orlando without Disney, and really, what’s the point of that?
We finally arrived at The Godfather’s house, to which I extended my thanks and wishes that his next child be a masculine child. Actually, I just sat in road daze and drank some water quietly while watching his BIG ASS widescreen TV. 20 minutes later, I was sleeping soundly in a comfy bed, wondering what the hell I missed while I drove through the endless dark. Texas was still very much a mystery to me at this point. A mystery I would soon unravel…
THE BRIGHT LIGHTS OF CIVILIZED MEXICO!
The next morning found us waking to a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon and a display of The Godfather’s new surround system for his BIG ASS widescreen TV. If you haven’t watched an Earth Wind and Fire concert on DVD blasting at 8 am in the morning then you’ve been missing out. We were on the road by 8:30 and heading West across the “great” state of Texas.
The weather was quite crappy for the morning. Sheets of rain were falling, making the place seem more desolate and curbing any enthusiasm for stopping at interesting looking roadside attractions, like a rattlesnake farm or the like. DGenetics had resolved for us to get all the way to Phoenix that night. While I have nothing against free accommodation, this was testing even my limits for amount of driving desired for one day. It might also behoove me to point out that Genetics’ girlfriend lives in San Diego, a mere 6 hours from Phoenix. Perhaps the reasoning for our quickened pace has become clearer, my faithful readers.
Needless to say, we found ourselves at a rest stop in Texas eating at Popeye’s for lunch. I was too hungry to protest and it was this or snack as we drove, which I was loathe to do at this point. I’ll never get used to the amount of smoking in the south, or the fact that the smoking section and nonsmoking section is simply the opposite sides of a room not larger than your typical high school classroom. However, the fried chicken was tasty and the counter clerks were very nice. Soon, we hit the road again and within an hour the rain ceased, making the drive a bit more bearable.
We stopped at my request to take some photos from time to time. I’ve flown over the desert countless times, but had never seen it from the ground. What I discovered was that the desert in Texas is very much different than the desert in New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Each has their own distinct features and feel. Texas was definitely desert-like, but with a lot more trees and shrubs than I expected. Still, it reached in all directions, reminding me that a large part of this country is simply empty. So much so that you can see rain storms drifting down in the distance, looking not unlike inky tentacles from the clouds. There were some large hills too, over which we saw a spectacular sunset. You know the line in ‘America the Beautiful,’ that goes something to the likes of “Purple mountains ‘tis of thee..”? Well, I get that now. Simply gorgeous.
I also saw my first coyote and tumbleweed in Texas.
As the sun fell and we hooked up with route 10, we drew closer to the Mexican border. It started with a few twinkling lights on the dark hills in the distance and soon grew to a large field of grounded stars. The funny thing was that the American side was extremely dark and deserted, whereas Mexico seemed to shine on with a life and energy all its own. Sadly, this was as close as I was going to get to our neighbors to the south, and still, we drove on till we reached the city of El Paso. Originally, we had intended to stay the night in the city, but due to the girlfriend issue and El Paso’s slightly seedy reputation, we only stopped for dinner. We found a small Mexican taco joint where we got three tacos each and holy guacamole, Batman, where they tasty! I’m pretty sure were the only non-Mexicans in the place, too. Sadly, DGenetics left a giant log in the toilet which refused to flush. I think we tipped extra due to our knowledge of this.
On the road again, we entered New Mexico. I could barely make out what was lurking in the distance. From what I could tell, there were giant cacti near the side of the road and rock formations in the distance. Sadly, I have no idea if that was really there. It wasn’t much of a compensation, but the stars were spectacular that night. Too bad my viewing of them was limited to occasionally looking up through my sunroof for a few seconds before reverting my attention back to the road. Sigh.
We finally rolled into Genetics’ grandparents condo community around 2:30 in the morning Mountain time (4:30 back on my beloved East Coast), a whopping 19 hours after we left Texas (HELPFUL HINT: DON’T EVER DO THIS) His grandparents were waiting with bowls of soup and the loudest filtered water unit I have ever heard. As tired as I was, I couldn’t help but notice how nice it is to have grandparents who fuss all over you and live to make you happy. Made me really my own, the last of which passed away almost three years ago. Almost an hour (!) later, I found myself passing out on the couch with the sound of the water filter gurgling and lulling me to la la land as I dreamed about what I missed in New Mexico and what I may never see again.
SEXILED IN PARADISE
So, morning came way too early, but it’s hard to complain when you get treated to eggs and bacon for the second day in a row, with slices of juicy ruby red grapefruit to boot. Genetics’ aunt and uncle also came over to visit. Both were a bit on the spaced out/ex-hippy side, but were nice to talk to regardless. After some quality visiting time, we were once again on the road with a picnic lunch to boot from Grandma Genetics.
We only had a mere six hours to go till San Diego, a mere drop in puddle compared to the prior day. After what was probably the coolest little stretch of road on the trip (really windy through the desert with the occasional dead cow or armadillo on the side of the road) we decided to stop at Dateland, a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere (the desert really looked like the desert at this point) where someone once had the bright idea of trying to start a date grove. “Try the world famous Date Shakes!” the billboard said. Billboards don’t lie, do they? So I got a date shake and DGenetics got a cactus shake. The date shake? Not bad. The cactus shake? Not so much…
We got on the road again and it was around this point that I was informed by DGenetics that his girlfriend asked that I not show up at the house right away when we to San Diego and would I mind just waiting at the coffee house a few blocks away for 30 minutes or so? Never mind the fact that I had been driving at an insane pace for three and a half days across the country. I tried my best not to make a stink about it, but my general unhappiness with this arrangement was evident enough.
Of course, being in a long distance relationship myself, it’s understandable that after having not seen one another for a while, one can want some private time, but come on. Some things are just a bit plain rude and insensitive. So, instead of driving into San Diego together, I elected to stop on the side of the road through a mountain passage to take some photos and let DGenetics go on ahead. I even stopped again at a rest stop to wander around a bit, read over some script notes from Nasty Nate.
All in all, I arrived in San Diego a little after 6:30, probably about an hour later than DGenetics by my estimates. I called when I exited the freeway and was asked if I wouldn’t mind waiting till 8. Oh SIGH. At this point, I was getting frustrated and pulled into the coffee house to stew. After ordering a pot of Jasmine tea, I was able to recharge my phone. I looked into just driving up to Orange County to crash with my Uncle, but he and his family were on the way out to dinner. No dice. Didn’t feel like going to Los Angeles and I didn’t feel like searching around the town, so I just made some calls and wrote down some script ideas. Finally, around 8:15 or so I was able to enter the den of sin and put my stuff down only to find out that the heater was broke in the house and it was freezing. OH SIGH.
I met Genetics’ girlfriend (let’s call her the Sexiler for now) who made no mention of the situation, which was probably for the better. The three of us went out for sushi, which was sort of on the mediocre side. We returned to the house, which was actually quite nice, but still freezing. It had a very nice view of the San Diego harbor from the roof. Some of Sexiler’s roommates were having a few friends over. I started to notice the ridiculous West Coast accent, which for all intents and purposes just makes me laugh. If I ever start talking like this, please shoot me. One guy tried to tell me about this cool guy called Ali G who is Borot{sic}’s other character. He’s on some show called “the Ali Show. It’s like on HBO or something. I saw like four episodes the other day.” Told him I never heard of it, only Da Ali G show. The joke was lost upon this space case who informed me that he was a high school English teacher. I feel sorry for America’s future.
The group went out, but the three of us stayed behind to sit and watch Half Baked, which was pretty much as dumb as I thought it would be, but Dave Chappelle occasionally exhibited the flashes of what would be come his trademark sense of humor. I finally went to sleep under about 7 blankets with a space heater nearby. It felt not unlike sleeping by a campfire in the middle of the woods.
GO NORTH YOUNG MAN!
I woke up the next morning after a fairly restful night under my mountain of blankets. I debated whether to sleep some more, but I could see my breath inside the apartment and decided to cut loose while I could. I took off as the sun was shining brightly and arrived in Laguna Beach just over an hour later. It was at this point that I realized that California drivers are INSANE. I had chalked up the errant and reckless drivers of the previous night up to the fact that I was looking for my exit and going a bit slower than usual. My thinking is that that they are so used to the being stuck in traffic that they have no idea what to do when then there’s the slightest bit of open road.
Irregardless, I pulled up in enough time to shower and clean myself up a bit before my Uncle’s family headed off to church. It was a fairly progressive Catholic church. Almost new age. Strange. ‘Course, I could just be out of touch, since I’ve been to mass a grand total of 5 times in the last year. Luckily, one of my cousins ThinkPink (who, consequently has grown about a foot or so since last I saw her two years ago) was able to make sure I wasn’t too lost. And there were coffee and donuts afterwards, and they weren’t even the donut holes I’m used to. Bonus!
After returning for a breakfast of oatmeal with dried mango and papaya mixed in (Hello, California), I settled in and finally relaxed for a bit. Spent most of the afternoon talking and catching up with my Uncle, which was nice. He took me around the area and showed me this wonky Japanese-sponsored college. It was very beautifully designed, and freaking expensive to attend. I got to catch the end of the Chargers loss to the Patriots and then my Aunt and my other cousin The Guinea Queen arrived. I caught up some more and eventually we had a nice dinner with roast chicken, sweet potatoes, and salad. We watched Back to the Future on TV and broke open about five different homemade spirits. Babies don’t sleep this well.
The next morning was MLK Day, so the girls had the day off. We ended up driving to the beach and exploring the neato tide pools along the coral reef. Sea anemones, crabs, fish, urchin, all this cool stuff was just sitting there. My Uncle is the type that knows pretty much everything about these pools, including the trick of how to bring out the creatures hiding by tearing up a shellfish and throwing pieces into the water. Lovely.
We hit up their favorite Mexican joint on the way back and brought it back to the house. It was pretty damn tasty. Good chips, salsa, guacamole, stuffed peppers, carnitas tacos, bean and cheese burritos, and a few other things to boot. Cheap too. I tried some kind of drink that reminded me of drinking cinnamon spiced rice pudding. It was interesting, but I’m not sure I could handle a whole glass. My cousins wolfed them down though. Ah, to be young and sugar friendly again.
UNDER A CLOUD OF SMOG
The next day, I set off for Los Angeles. Even before I got near to the city I could spot the brownish skies above it. Never has there been a more un-welcoming sight, expect for perhaps the landfill and smell that greets you when you cross the I-76 bridge into Philadelphia. I arrived at another cousin’s house in San Pedro just over an hour later. After briefly visiting with his wife and two kids, DGenetics picked me up and apartment hunting we did go.
We began by seeing a place he had seen on the net. The price was right but, as soon as we got off the expressway, it was very clear that this was not the kind of neighborhood we wanted to live in. The place itself was nasty and you had to go through one bedroom to get to another. No, bro!
The next place we saw was equally bad and so we journeyed into West Hollywood to visit the famed Goatfarmer. I had not seen the Goatfarmer since August or so, having just missed each other in DC this Christmas. We hung out for a bit and saw what he’d been doing to his place and he gave us a Thomas Guide map to use for the time being. We started combing the streets and looking for Rent signs. We would call and if possible get info on price, availability, and when we could see the place. We were able to see inside one place that was OK, but kind of smallish.
We eventually stopped by the apartment of a friend of DGenetics, The BlaZer. We were able to use the BlaZer’s computer to get on craigslist and check for apartments available in the area and made a few more calls. Luckily, one of the places was able to let us see it that night. The moment we entered, we knew this was a promising lead. The living room and one bedroom were already painted. The floors were beautiful hardwood. It had a big gas fireplace, decent sized kitchen with a new stove, fridge, and filtered water to boot. It was big, but not too big. To make matters better, it had a backyard with a porch, table, chairs, and garden where we could plant stuff if we wanted. It even had a fig tree.
When asked about when we wanted to move in, we told our guide, Kool Keith, that as soon as possible was preferred. Not that he wasn’t positive before, but when he heard that, Kool was even more positive, explaining that the landlord wanted to fill the place as soon as possible too. Makes sense, since he’d be losing money for any day that someone wasn’t there. We applied and crossed our fingers.
That night I had dinner with the Goatfarmer at a vegetarian Thai restaurant (Hello, California), which was surprisingly tasty. If you hadn’t told me that I was eating fake chicken, I probably couldn’t have spotted it. The Goatfarmer gave me a ride back to my cousins and I hit the sack soon after.
A SMORGASBOARD OF LANDLORDS
We had some appointments to see some other places in the morning, just in case the apartment from the previous day fell through. I got concerned when we had to come back to the place and have our licenses photocopied. We saw one place in West Hollywood that was really nice, but way too expensive, not to mention a pain in the ass to apply to. We went to lunch at a Vietnamese joint in the Silverlake vicinity and started walking around the stores in the area when we got the call: We had been approved.
We went back a bit later and signed the paperwork and began to move stuff in (both of our cars were still fairly packed, although DGenetics had left some of his stuff in San Diego). Soon after we had finished, Kool Keith came down with the landlord. I haven’t thought of a good codename for him yet, so let’s just call him The Traveler for right now (since according to his stories, he’s been a bit of everywhere, done a bit of everything and everyone). The Traveler lit our fireplace and brought us some takeout menus from decent places in the area. He also let us borrow his space heater for the bathroom since it gets a bit colder than the rest of the place. Nice gesture, in my opinion. Kool Keith essentially handles all the day to day issues and the Traveler is also there to help out.
Since DGenetics did not have a bed and the place was still cold, neither of us slept in the place that night. The next day, we moved some more stuff in and went to Ikea. I am officially enamored with Ikea. So much stuff, so little time. Plus meatballs. And if you’re really in the mood for a deal, try the two (count ‘em: TWO) hot dogs, huge bag of chips, and drink for $2.50. THAT’S what I call Swedish ingenuity. I think we’ve been back to Ikea four times since. Craigslist is also my new friend. Especially the freestuff section. We just got our couch for free and a nice rug for cheap.
SLAMMING MORMONS
I spent my first night in the apartment (note to self: need to come up with a name for the pad) by myself, and I slept quite well. The next morning, I was off to LAX to catch a flight to Salt Lake City. My reason: attending the premiere of Caress of the Creature, the thesis film I labored over last year. It was the first FSU film to get into SlamDance, so that was cool. Even cooler was the fact that we got a short (but positive) review on Aintitcool.com Check it out: http://www.aintitcool.com/node/31292
I took a cab to the hotel where the director and editor of the flick were staying and crashed out. They came back later and we went out to Marie Calendar’s for the biggest salads known to man and pie. Lots of pie.
The next day we went exploring in Park City, the quiet little mountain town that gets assaulted every year by Sundance and SlamDance and Tromadance and who knows what else? Don’t feel bad though. Every joint in town jacks their prices up for those two weeks. Parking is ridiculous unless you get into the one tiny free lot on the top of the hill. Real racket they got going on.
SlamDance was being held at a hotel on the top of Main Street. They had two screening rooms, both smaller than I expected. The one for features had about a capacity of 200 people or so while the one for the shorts and some of the other documentaries held about 100 people. SlamDance is kind of like the red haired black sheep step child of Sundance. Really indie. Really artsy. Pretentious in many ways, but also very supportive. Not once did I hear a boo or nay saying, even though some films were utter garbage. Another way to think about SlamDance: have you ever been to see a band play and you realize that about 75% of the people in the audience with you are in the other bands playing that night? It’s kind of like that.
Anyway, after one of the most frustrating lunches ever, we saw one of the blocks of shorts and all five of them were pretty bad. One of them was OK, but really, most of them were garbage. I wanted to slap the director of one of them who was up there for a Q & A, but decided against it despite his obvious lack of talent or insight whatsoever. This of course was not helped by the moderator who lobbed up softballs a no armed fisherman could still hit, yet somehow this kid was Casey at the Bat to the nth degree. Oh SIGH.
We went to a cocktail party that night. I like drinking for free. Most people there were cool, but a lot of them just wanted to push their films. Met some genuinely nice students from Univ. of Central Florida though. We also met one Billy Baldwin, star of the cinematic tour de force, Curdled. The Editor and I had enough drinks in us to approach him and tell him how Curdled ruled. His response: “You saw that?”
You can’t make this stuff up.
He was actually rather nice. I had heard he and The Smoking Beard had fallen out at some point, but he asked us if we were still in contact with him and to give him his regards. He’s a charmer, that Billy Baldwin. I wish I knew how to quit him.
I think we also went to a documentary that night on some dude who made a name for himself by rooting through Bob Dylan’s garbage. Interesting and not badly made, but I felt it should have been about 20 minutes shorter. Or maybe that was due to the three free beers bursting to get out of my bladder. Either way, I couldn’t have been happier when the credits rolled…only to watch the directors get up for a Q & A. Damn my politeness…
Sunday was the premiere of our film. We got into town relatively early and attended a brunch sponsored by the Maryland Film Office. MD represent, yo! I introduced myself to the head of the office. I felt sort of dumb starting a conversation based on the sole fact that I was from the Rockville/Potomac area, but he was really nice and told me about an annual(?) conference for MD filmmakers in L.A. that he can send me info about. So, that was cool. We also met this Norwegian/Swedish couple who were premiering their film that night too. It was a horror/slasher set in Norway about a lost group of snowboarders. I’ll get to that later.
We started going up and down Main Street looking for places to hang our posters. It’s a dog eat dog world in the poster hanging business. You can put one up and five minutes later come back to see it plastered over by four posters from the same freaking film. Obnoxious? Rude? That’s the film business, baby!
We were in Shorts Block 2 that afternoon. It was a packed room and I have to say that this block of shorts was easily one of the best that I saw. All five of the films were at least decent, with two that I genuinely liked. Our film played well and I’d say about 75% of the jokes hit. Not bad. You can’t expect to have the same kind of screening that you have in Tallahassee. Nice to see how a neutral audience views the film and laughs because something is funny and not necessarily because a worker is being played by one Buff Stuckey (not to say Buff Stuckey ain’t funny. But I digress). The Q & A went fairly well afterwards and the Director was nice enough to give me and the Editor props. I would have gone up to participate, but the moderator was only calling up directors and sort of had the “If you aint’t the director, then I could give a fuck” air about him the other night at the cocktail party. His loss.
Afterwards, we reveled in our happy little adventure and went out for Sushi and (sort of) hot Miso soup. It was tasty, but expensive, like everything else in Park City. It did have the added bonus of providing us a window view so that when Gary Coleman walked by in a Cowboy hat, joygasms everywhere exploded in unison.
We then managed to get ourselves into a Sundance party taking place a block or so down the road at a nice bar. Free draft beer and well drinks, football on the TV, and even free quarters for the pool table. This is the life! We met some nice guys from Mississippi and drank as much as we could.
At this point, the Editor and Director retired for some private time, leaving me all to my lonesome to check out the pre-party for the Norwegian film, Coldprey, not to be confused with the English band that has a penchant for writing weepy catchy Brit-pop that you would never admit to like but can tap your toes to. It was not as packed as some of the cocktail parties, so I ended up hanging out with the directors. I ended up mostly talking about how to raise your kids bilingual, since they are doing that with their daughter.
The Film started around 10 or so. It was pretty decent as far as slashers go. Nothing too out of the ordinary or unpredictable, but the scares and blood came when they should have, but I do have to say that there was a sincere lack of T & A that most Slashers are known for. I guess when you’re in the mountains of Norway, you don’t get inspired to run around in a bikini or less too often. Damn shame. I’d liken it most to Halloween. You know who the killer is but you don’t know why. Less open ended than Halloween though. Apparently, the film has already played theatres in Norway and was the Norwegian #2 box office smash of all time (of Norwegian films). Norwegians love their slashers, I guess.
Afterwards, I hung around the lobby waiting for the Director to pick me up and there was an extra SlamDance poster lying around so happy birthday to me. The next day, the Editor and I were flying out and so we packed our stuff up and headed to Salt Lake City. After driving around town for a bit, it felt like the town was half deserted. We parked at a mall and looked for something to eat inside. A good number of the stores were closed or going out of business. We sat inside a Mormon Gift Shop for five minutes before the store owner/clerk came out from the backroom. This was enough time of course to see such awesome T-shirts like “Mormon Girls: Worth the Wait” and “No Drinking. No Swearing. No Sinning. But STILL HAVING A GOOD TIME!”
If only I weren’t a poor ex-student.
The man at the store recommended the restaurant in Macy’s. It actually turned out to be a good find. Nice atmosphere, man playing on piano, good food, and really cheap. Who’d a thunk it? We all the chicken cordon bleu with potatoes and veggies. After some freeway hijinks, we got to the airport and headed home. One of my cousins was in town visiting another cousin, so I went to have a late dinner with them. Around Midnight, I finally returned home. DGenetics has been in San Diego that weekend and when he saw Kool Keith a bit earlier, he said we won the prize for quietest tenants ever. Hopefully, they didn’t get too used to that…
THE FUTURE!
We used the week to get the apartment on its way to being set up as we were interviewing for jobs, internships, the like. At the end of the week, we managed to get his bedroom painted and pretty much set up. I’m waiting on a bed frame and a rug to finish up my room so I can start hanging the rest of my posters. We met our downstairs neighbor on Tuesday. He seems fairly cool and recommended a bunch of places to eat in the area, one of which I have already check out and given my seal of approval to. Buff Stuckey and TopDown came to visit one night, I had dinner with Houston and The French Connection another night, and a big mess of us went out for Korean BBQ on Saturday.
The Sexiler came up for the weekend and the three of us explored Griffith Park for a few hours and went up to the Observatory. The Planetarium chairs were so comfy I almost fell asleep during the show. Pretty neat. I also saw the place where the knife fight scene took place in Rebel Without a Cause. Not a bad weekend.
So, my general feeling is that while I am not in love with L.A. just yet, I should be able to survive here for a few years anyway. Time will tell, I suppose…
It’s a strange world. Let’s keep it that way.