Annual Bowl Pilgrimage

So every year I've lived in LA, I've gone to the Hollywood Bowl once a year. The once a year thing is coincidental but now it's kind of turned into a tradition. The first year, right after moving here, it was Rufus Wainwright re-enacting Judy Garland's Hollywood Bowl performance (a few entries down). I believed that was the gayest thing I'd ever done. Last year it was seeing Donna Summer (pretty gay, but not necessarily any gayer than Rufus/Judy, and kind of a disappointing concert, although it's the Bowl so you get into it no matter what). Most recently it was Liza Minnelli which obviously takes the gay cake to a whole new level.

Not that it matters, but she wasn't terrible. She got tired easily and the notes weren't all there, but that wasn't all that important was it? The show was largely exported from her Liza's at the Palace...! except that she performed alone at the Bowl.

I don't know how I've managed to live my life without knowing the Charles Aznavour song, "What Makes A Man A Man"? Liza sang it at the Bowl and I thought it was great. Here she is performing it at the GLAAD awards.



The wildfires were raging pretty hard the night of the concert and the sky over the mountains behind the stage glowed orange from time to time. It was eerie. I tried to photograph it but never got a good shot. All in all, it was a memorable night. A few months after the show, I saw that the posters from the season were for sale. I loved the Kii Arens designed Liza poster. Not a great image of it below, but you get the idea. You shouldn't be able to nab a good photo of it anyway. Buy the poster. I did. Love that her shoulder is created by the acoustic shell.

Anyway, it was a great experience. This summer we might go see the production of Rent that Neil Patrick Harris is directing. At this point it would be wrong not to try to find the gayest thing to do. Sound of Music sing-along anyone?

Amish Grace

Sometimes the Lifetime Movie Network is irresistible. A few weeks ago I started watching Amish Grace which I DVR'd. It seemed like it had all the important and necessary elements we have come to expect from Lifetime movies. It was pretty good/bad in the way you want.

I learned also that my DVR is clearly smarter than I am, because about a third of the way through, it stopped recording, which was really just fine. After the major plot points are laid down, you kind of know how these movies tend to play out: loss of faith (in this case, literally), redemption, etc. so I probably didn't miss much. If I were really curious, I could watch the entire movie online. So could you if so inclined.

Tammy Blanchard was in this movie. You remember how she blew our minds as the young Judy Garland in the TV biopic from 2001? (I'm amused that the contributor to the Wikipedia article mentions the "verisimilitudinous impressions of Garland by Tammy Blanchard and Judy Davis". Who uses the term verisimilitudinous in a sentence except at a spelling bee?). Well she was pretty underutilized in this film, just toting children around, looking tear-stained and beleaguered, but I'm glad she's getting some work.

Anyway, what really bugged me about this film was that, in spite of being set in Pennsylvania, it was very clearly filmed in LA and it was totally distracting me the whole time. Now I know they were on a budget, and lots and lots of films are made here, so I can deal. Since I've lived in LA however, my TV and movie watching has been forever changed.

The main thing is this: there is something about the angle of the natural light here that is really distinctive and when you see outdoor scenes that are filmed in SoCal, you can kind of tell. So it was distracting and annoying. I think they filmed in Whittier, a peculiar historically Quaker enclave outside LA, so they were trying to approach authenticity, but no dice, it still looked like Baywatch. There is a scene early on where the shooter goes to a hardware store, and it's so obviously LA. There's this chain link fence with spirals of razor wire that just screams southland. I don't think I've seen a hardware store with that kind of prison-level security anywhere in the east.

But enough complaining. I'm grateful for all the mindless entertainment I absorb.

It's really been a ridiculously long time since I posted anything. I've been mum since I got a job in October 2007. Lots has changed. The most relevant to this blog being that I don't live in West Hollywood anymore. I hope you'll overlook that. Silverlake (which I inexplicably prefer as one word instead of two) is more affordable. I did live in WeHo for a gay year (Halloween through Pride). It was brief but great. Now instead of living right around the corner from a multi-thousand dollar Balenciaga handbag:



I live right around the corner from shelled edamame, two buck chuck, organic blue corn tortilla chips, hipster employees, atrocious parking, good snacks and convenience foods:



Frankly, it's a good trade-off. There's also a regular grocery store and lots of other things. That said, there's a certain energy in WeHo I miss. And my commute was about five minutes from WeHo; now it's 20.

Anyway, there's a lot to catch up on. Today however, I was inspired to defibrillate the blog because I was thinking about my favorite homeless personalities in LA. It's a strange reverie I realize. It's not a joking thing. I have a lot of respect for folks who can make it on the street. I've learned a lot about resilience, choice, and harm reduction from my homeless clients. Certainly for some people, homelessness is not a choice; but you might be surprised to learn that not everyone who lives on the streets sees their circumstance as a transitional state or as something to be avoided or fixed. Certainly many of those on the streets continue to suffer repercussions from mental health policy deregulation in the 80's when the safety net for the most severely mentally ill was destroyed, but there are some who could work their way off the streets but don't. It makes you think.

There's the guy I call Man of LA Mancha who hangs out at a church on Fountain. He wears lots of layers, often a cape, and an awesome Roman centurion helmet like this:



except that his crest is purple I think. I've always wanted to say hi to him. Or there's the roller skating guy on Robertson (which is an upscale shopping area in West Hollywood where the celeb magnet restaurant The Ivy is located. J or I have spotted Jack Nicholson, a Hilton, and Tori Spelling on this street before) who is always shirtless, wears black tights and skates up and down all day long.

My other favorite is a woman who sits at the corner of Franklin and Vermont.



She might not be homeless but there's some pathology there. She is platinum blond, pretty put together, but just hangs out smoking on the corner. Sometimes she has some artwork--maybe hers or other people's--that she appears to be selling, or possibly just displaying, public street gallery style. She seems cool and I want to know her story.

Finally there's the woman at the corner of Formosa and Sunset who, when you're stopped at the stop sign on Formosa, trying to turn onto Sunset, comes and actually taps on the window or bangs on your car door. That's a little unsettling. Tonight she banged pretty hard. I don't have power windows so I feel a little rude not rolling down the window to at least say something like, "people in LA are crazy about having their cars touched, be careful!", but what can you do?

I guess what strikes me most about these particular folks is that they are homeless, or appear to be, but are completely rooted to where they stay or hang out. I've only ever seen these folks in these exact places, these microhabitats, and when they're not there, I really notice. Man of LA Mancha hasn't been around lately. Where could he be? It makes you think, how do you know you're home? What grounds you in a particular place?