A Baltimorean on their first visit to L.A. in twenty years is like a bird trying to stretch its wings in a 2 by 4. Don't remember how to get anywhere (should have ordered a GPS with the rental), people are less friendly, and traffic is a mother effer.
Seriously, going nine miles from place A to place Z can take two hours on a bad stretch. Tried to get from Venice Beach to Pico and Robertson just the other and sat in a jam for a full hour. Move a block, red light. Another block, red light. Did the traffic engineers out here go on strike too?
The scene outside House of Blues
Last night, my friend Gene Feldman and I, basically hung out on Sunset doing absolutely nothing. Oh, we stopped to have a drink in a heated outdoor cafe, and Gene ran into his cousin who was hastily making his way to the House of Blues, but other than some crazy guy yelling into his cell phone about a detached member in a getaway car, and some drunk floozy literally bumping into Gene, asking if she could use my camera to take our picture, the night was very low key.
And fun. Gene is a riot.
Sunset Boulevard near Comedy Factory
Trying to score tickets to the MTV Movie Awards tonight, but the leftovers cost a fortune. May just settle for a spot in the bleachers to watch the stars roll in. That is, if we can beat the traffic to arrive there on time.