I've often said that you never really appreciate where you live until someone comes to visit you. That's when you actually take the time to go out and see all of the wonderful things that you always say you're going to take advantage of but never really do. And even though spotting celebrities has become something I take for granted, I like to try and make sure that when a visitor comes to town they get to see at least one "star." I know they're just people and they don't deserve to be worshipped or admired any more than teachers or firefighters -- but the thing of it is when you do see a really big star, first of all it's cool, and second of all it gives you a good story to go home and tell all your loser friends who had to suffer through another bitterly cold east coast winter week while you were sipping mimosas on Sunset Boulevard and rubbing elbows with the beautiful people.
This past weekend was my niece Annie's birthday and her mom, my sister Cindy, came out to visit. I picked Cindy up at LAX on Saturday and took her straight to the Sky Bar, a prime star-gazing location. We sat and sipped our drinks in the balmy afternoon breeze watching the surgically enhanced and mentally impoverished and feeling superior to all. But alas, no stars.
After drinks we headed up Sunset to pick up Annie from work and get ready for her birthday party that night, at the apartment of her new boyfriend Tony. We sat at an outdoor cafe on Sunset while waiting for Annie to get off work, watching the ultra-blonde, wobbly-legged, pouty-lipped women and their tiny rat-like dogs. Still no celebs.
At Annie's birthday party, which was actually being held two days early, we met Tony's mother and her four friends who were in town for the week. I had actually met them on Friday night at a Buzzards gig. Not that they flew all they way to Los Angeles from Buffalo just to see the Buzzards, but then again, two of them were here in October for the last Buzzards gig, so you do the math.
Anyway, the "Buffalo Gals" were psyched to see some celebs. This weekend was the Golden Globes and the town was filled with stars. Earlier, the Buffalo Gals had been hanging out at the Four Seasons bar and got into a heavy conversation with Liam Neeson. But Liam was just an appetizer -- they were out for big game. The kept talking about ditching the birthday party to go try and crash the HBO pre-Globes soiree. These women were real pros. They had a plan for the night of the Globes that would guarantee success, and with any luck we would be able to coat-tail our way along with them.
The next afternoon Cindy and Annie and I did a little shopping along trendy Melrose Ave. Cindy picked up some knockoff 'Dolce Garbonzo' sunglasses that made her look just like a studio exec at Cannes. Annie got a pair of wide-screen shades that gave her that "I don't want you to recognize me, but you better not ignore me" look that all the stars go for.
We stopped for dinner and a hip Chinese place and finally saw our first celeb. Actually a two-fer, raspy-voiced former Newhart wife Suzanne Pleshette and her real-life husband, and also former Newhart co-star, Tom Poston. Tom currently appears as the "clown in the closet" on the soon-to-be-forgotten NBC sitcom "Committed." While they aren't exactly A-list, or even B-list, they were bona-fide celebrities and rated a quick cell phone call to the folks back in Florida.
But the best was yet to come.
We got the call from Tony and learned that the Buffalo Gals had staked out a couple of couches in the lobby of the luxurious Peninsula Hotel across the street from the Golden Globes. We rushed home to change and then headed over to join them. When we got there we immediately became aware of the cunning genius behind their plan. Many of the big stars had booked rooms at the Peninsula to get ready for their big night. After the awards, they scooted back to the hotel to change out of their gowns and tuxedos and kick back. And when they did, they'd fall right into our trap.
Within fifteen minutes of our arrival we were rewarded with a genuine celebrity sighting as super-tall activist/actor/director Tim Robbins ducked his way into the lobby, sporting a scruffy beard and mustache. He knew he was in the presence of serious star-gazers as we locked him in our sights and followed his progress across the lobby and over to the elevators. He smiled and nodded somewhat sheepishly, acknowledging our prowess.
Sex in the City's ghostly pale Cynthia Nixon made several appearances, apparently having lost track of her room. She failed to acknowledge our group to her continuing discredit.
Chazz Palminteri looked about as cool as you'd imagine wearing his black leather jacket -- he skulked around the entrance to the bar for a while before eventually daring to run our gauntlet. Nobody was going to mess with Chazz and we let him pass unfazed.
Handsome couple Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy made several passes in front of our reviewing stand, until Macy, looking characteristically flustered, confessed "we're just getting some exercise."
At one point I noticed an elfin-looking man wearing silver-tipped cowboy boots. It took a moment to realize that he was manic attention-hound Robin Williams, escorting his wife and kids over to the elevator. Robin earned a round of applause from our group, which he clearly enjoyed. In fact he returned later on for repeat performance, poking his head through a potted plant and saying "thank-you so much!"
Gap-toothed director Ron Howard came by, but I must have been in the men's room. He reportedly received a round of applause as well.
As I was coming back from the men's room, I tried to catch the eye of a stunning brunette chatting with a friend in the lobby. She turned out to be the adorable Kristin Davis. I think she was interested in me, but trying to play coy.
I may be forgetting one or two -- some guy from the Sopranos, one of the Queer Eyes -- but all in all I'd say we had a pretty good night of it. On the way out we ran into Miramax mogul Harvey Weinstein, not exactly one of the beautiful people but a real heavyweight. Certainly we had seen enough stars to make the folks back home sit up and take notice. The Buffalo Gals really taught us a thing or two. How to stalk with style and and how to have a pretty fun evening without getting up off the couch. I'll have to remember that place.
The next night was Annie's actual birthday and we celebrated at a cozy little restaurant nestled in the heart of Laurel Canyon. Courtney, Annie's friend from the University of Vermont joined us there. She had recently moved to L.A. and after hearing of our amazing night of star sightings, complained that she had yet to see a celeb. She was in luck -- we still had the magic of the Buffalo Gals on our side. A few minutes later, leggy cover-girl-turned actress Molly Sims came in and sat just a few tables away. Courtney was thrilled. Now she really was an Angeleno. Eventually, of course, she'll have seen a bunch of stars and she'll become jaded like the rest of us. That is, until some friends come out to visit her and she gets to relive the wonder all over again.
I think it was Woody Allen who said: "I don't have a problem with change -- I just don't want to be around when it happens." It seems we live in a society where progress is paramount and history is too often forgotten. The problem with most progress is that it is driven by greed rather than by a legitimate need for change. Such is the case in my neighborhood, where a local historic landmark is facing demolition in the face of the seemingly epidemic proliferation of premium coffee franchises. I felt I had to take a stand.
When I first moved out here, I spent some time hanging out at my buddy Brian's apartment. He let me use his computer to work on my screenplays while he was at work. I liked the area and took many long walks looking for apartments. During one of these walks, I stopped at a burger stand called Irv's Burgers and had a very tasty turkey burger. Right then and there I decided that this was the neighborhood for me. Any neighborhood that had a place like Irv's was right up my alley. In fact, I ended up taking an apartment just two blocks down the street and soon became an Irv's regular.
Now it isn't just the burgers that make Irv's the best place to eat in town. The owner, Sonia Hong, also happens to be the most cheerful and sweetest woman you ever met. She greets every customer by name and personalizes each order with handwritten notes and drawings on the paper plates and bags. Over the years I have brought everyone I know to share in the Irv's experience and Sonia has treated all of them like family. Her's is truly a family place as her mother and brother work alongside her. Everyone who comes to visit me in L.A. counts Irv's as one of the highlights of the trip.
But Irv's may not be around much longer. The owner of the property wants to lease the space surrounding Irv's to a coffee chain called Peet's and their plan is to get rid of the burger stand to make room for a parking lot. "They paved paradise and..." Well you know how it goes. Anyway a bunch of Irv's loyal customers have banded together with a petition and letter-writing campaign to try and persuade the developers to allow Irv's to remain where it is. Irv's is one of the last of a dying breed of walk-up hamburger stands and is truly one-of-a-kind. The fact that Irv's happens to be located on the original Route 66 and was frequented by the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin contribute to its historic value.
The other day I went over to Irv's for a "delicious" turkey burger. While I was there, a reporter from Channel 2 showed up and interviewed me for a story they were doing about Irv's. There has been quite a bit of media attention, including stories in the L.A. Times, the Washington Post and the Wall Street journal.
I hope the Burger Brigade is successful, it would be sad to see Irv's disappear. There are too many shiny new things that lack substance and not enough shabby old things that have character. Maybe this time there are enough people who care about the shabby old things to actually make a difference. We'll see.
I got a double dose of civic duty a couple of weeks ago. That's exactly the kind of thing I've spent the past twenty years generally try to avoid. For a long time I liked to think of myself as "flying under the radar." I guess I even imagined myself a bit of an "outlaw" at times in my own naive and overly romanticized way.
For several years, when I lived in D.C., playing folk music for tips at a vegetarian restaurant and writing free-lance articles for American Heritage, I drove all around the city in an unregistered, uninsured car. I even got pulled over once, but somehow finessed my way out of it. I voted in the 1984 election, but after that I kind of lost interest. And yet I still ended up serving jury duty. I figured it was an easy 40 bucks so what the hell.
While I was in Brooklyn, attracting media attention as one of the "Funniest Unemployed Comics," I lived rent-free for the better part of a year after my landlord mysteriously disappeared. I failed to file several state income tax returns and defaulted on my student loans. I never registered to vote in New York; politics just seemed like an irrelevant nuisance to me. But once again I got called in for jury duty. This time the pay was only about 20 bucks, but I was unemployed so who was I to complain.
These days I am a little more respectable. My car is registered and insured and has a valid parking permit. I pay my taxes on time and I don't even get a refund. I'm never late with the rent and I even assisted the landlord in evicting a tenant who was creating an unsafe environment in our building. I register to vote and have served on two juries. In fact, two weeks ago I served on a jury and voted in the same week! How's that for good citizenship?
One thing that always strikes me about jury duty is that despite the fact that everyone whines about it and tries to get out of it, once the jury gets into the deliberation room, everyone seems to take it pretty seriously. Which is good because in this case we were sending a guy to prison for the rest of his life. But what was really cool about it was the way people allowed each other to disagree and to talk things out before they reached a final decision. In the end we all agreed on a guilty verdict on thirteen separate charges.
The day after that was election day. It was my first election since '84 and I was pretty excited about it. In fact I had registered specifically to vote in this election because I felt so strongly about the outcome. I felt like I couldn't sit this one out -- it was too important. So I did my civic duty and voted for the candidate of my choice. As it turned out I was disappointed by the final result of the election. And it made me think about the whole trial by jury process.
It's too bad the information put out by the candidates isn't subject to some kind of stringent requirements the way evidence in court is. Politicians can say whatever they want and there's no counsel to object to the impropriety or lack of foundation or irrelevance of it. And no judge to decide what's fair and what isn't. And there are no instructions for voters the way a jury gets instructed: Be impartial, don't base your decision on personal bias, don't pick a position and refuse to budge despite compelling evidence to the contrary, on the other hand don't be swayed by a passionate argument if your sure of your position.
Wouldn't it be cool if we could all go into a giant deliberation room and everyone would actually listen to each other's opinions and we could all decide together which candidate is best? I guess that's what we try to do anyway. We had the debates and they had moderators. We have plenty of time to gather the facts and discuss them with our friends. I tried make sure that I talked to people who didn't share my opinion to see if their reasons made sense to me. But what it seems to come down to is some people believed one guy and some believed the other. In a court of law, that would be called a "hung jury" and there would be a mistrial and they would have to try the case all over again. But in politics the same thing is called a "mandate."
That's democracy for ya.
I'm still glad I did my civic duty. Maybe one of these days I'll run for office. I wonder how much a councilman makes?
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