Monday night, I took a date to Encounters at LAX to soak up the atmosphere.
Said she'd been looking for it at LAX and couldn't find it.I said I might
be able to offer a hint or two :-)
[hint: it's the frigging theme building, smack dab in the middle of the
Tuesday morning, I gave a guest lecture on the Web of Trust to a class of
nonmajors -- at 8AM. Cruel and unusual wakening, eh? After classes and
travel administrivia and payroll and email and yada yada, I made it to the
end of the day. I went to go pick up my car from the shop (they kept it
overnight b/c the nearest headlamp part was in Reno; I got a loaner, scant
consolation for being overcharged by the dealer). I chased down a cool
looking van around UCI and offered the driver a large sum of money to rent
it for the weekend. (it's a long story, and no, I'm not at liberty to
explain why). I went to former Defense Secretary William Perry's talk. I
filed an insurance claim with Allstate.
And *then* I decided to go see Adam, that late at night. In fact, after
another hour of debate and picking the wrong highway, I just went to Harbor
House in Sunset Beach for a burger and root beer float and Forbes magazine.
I called it a night at 2AM.
The reason I need to drive up to LA at all was to visit a Hollywood vehicle
broker to look for a 'Scooby Doo' van at 9AM.
This morning, I postponed that to the afternoon. I fought traffic to pick
Adam up at 2PM, and we headed into Hollywood. It's amazing what's possible
on impssible schedules in this town -- if you can afford it. At 3 we left
to decide whether to make an offer. So back down Sunset to Paru's a classic
pure vegetarian South Indian eatery (coming up on 20 years). At 4, we head
back down Sunset again, decide to kill another hour at the Skybar, the
hotspot I'd been dying to see. In the afternoon, any ol passerby can wander
in, and I finally discovered its charms. It's a small deck above their pool
-- which is itself perched above the Hollywood hills with a view all they
way to the ocean. Just perfect -- and $9 martinis to boot. At 5, we decided
we hadn't decided and declined for the interim with the vehicle broker.
We narrowly missed a parking ticket on Sunset (the cop was entering it into
the computer as we raced up). Mockery averted, we went back to plan A,
enjoying dinner at that famed tempura bar at the New Otani Hotel in Little
Tokyo (A Thousand Cranes). We placed ourselves in the chef's care, and at
least the non-vegetarian of us had an astounding experience. Tempura
oysters: very highly recommended.
Adam's long-lost best friend (from faraway West LA) called during dinner
and said to meet him at 9. So back across the city on Sunset again, to stop
at Canter's for black-and-white cookies. Then, lost around Robertson in the
vicinity of the Newsroom Cafe, we finally found M. After some preening, he
took back down Sunset to the Burgundy Room, where the aspiring screenwriter
introduced us to his friend, the 70's latin soul DJ. Whence the three of us
started arguing about the morality of picking up strangers in bars as we
studiously ignored the blonde in the miniskirt kneeling on a stool, bent
over the bar, right beside us.
So back to his place, then back to Pasadena, then back to Toi's to write
this. Tonight at Toi's, we're testing the synchronicity hypothesis between
Pink Floyd's the Wall and the Wizard of Oz.
Tonight's fortune: "your smile brings happiness to others"
PS. Tomorrow's event (hopefully) is Big Bad Voodoo Daddy at the House of
PPS. Nope. It turned out to be an afternoon passed out on the floor of my
office, a crick in the neck, getting locked out, cleaning up after a
security breach, a couple phone calls, and a pitcher of Newcastle Brown at
Sid's at midnight to lubricate an honest-to-goodness pen-and-paper letter
to an admired in Boston.