Day 6: Merchants of Venice

Allain promised Justin, V and I that Venice Beach would be quite a unique experience, and he was certainly right. That photo to the right was taken just as the sun was setting from that very beach, which is quite beautiful and, like most Pacific beaches, completely shits on New England beaches. The water was very warm, the waves were consistently powerful, and the boardwalk is by far the biggest and best I've ever seen. After watching the "Night of the Living Homeless" episode of South Park, I was expecting the area to be littered with bums. It really wasn't at all; perhaps I just caught it on a bad day for them. But I did experience probably the most unique collection of characters, artists and gimmicks I've ever encountered.

It started when I was stopped on the sidewalk by an independent hip-hop artist who calls himself "Ankore" (pronounced like encore) to listen to his CD. I was skeptical about something like this, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear that it wasn't a cheaply-made record. It sounded very professional, and he was a legit person and not a crackhead or anything like that, so I decided to support him and buy his CD for $5. The album is very solid; I really wouldn't be surprised if he hit it big one day. I hope he does so I can sell his autographed demo for a lot more than $5!

I had to snap a photo of this Indian guy playing electric guitar while wearing roller skates because, well, I can't make stuff like this up. He's only one of the many gimmick-oriented performers on the miles-long boardwalk.

I can't really make up this guy on the right, either. If you're too lazy to click on the picture and enlarge it, his gimmick is to make up random reasons for why he needs money. This sign he has reads "Sith killed my family. Need Jedi Lessons for Revenge!" I actually felt kind of bad for this guy, which I usually never do for homeless people, but he is clearly more creative than your average bum who just creeps up to you and says "Spare some change, sir?"


This guy I DEFINITELY could never make up. We were walking down the strip when he walked out from in between two buildings, apparently casually strolling in for "another day at the office." I'm disappointed that I only got a back shot of him, because his entire face was painted silver in addition to the threads. I'm also disappointed that I didn't get to see what his talent was, either, because the silver thing is almost certainly just an added gimmick.


Fun fact about the Venice Beach boardwalk: every other store is a smoke shop. We did some heavy browsing in some of these places, interested in how different the pieces and prices of them were from the East Coast. Overall, the California shops seemed cheaper and some were definitely more cool-looking. I couldn't resist snapping a pic of this 6-foot bong with the fish on it. This thumbnail doesn't do it justice, you need to enlarge it to really see it. There were some even bigger ones in this store, but I'm not sure if they allowed us to take pictures like this. I was halfway out the door when I took this one.


After hitting up the Sidewalk Cafe for dinner (best fajitas I've ever had, by the way), we walked back as the sun was setting. I was able to get some nice-looking photos during this time period; it's well-known that this and just before sunrise are the best time to take pictures of the sky, landscapes etc. so I was happy to be able to get these photos.




I also snapped at the opportunity to get the sunset over the water. I tried my best to make this as visually-pleasing as possible, but I guess mother nature did that for me!



The night concluded with a very fun concert in Hollywood, right on Sunset Blvd. Steel Panther, formerly Metal Scool, is a hair metal tribute band that is pretty much the spitting image of Motley Crue. While these guys are clearly stuck in 1985, they put on a great show and they're actually known out here as one of the more successful tribute bands around. The only songs I remembered them playing are "Livin' on a Prayer", "Wanted Dead or Alive" and "You Give Love a Bad Name" by Bon Jovi, "Hot for Teacher" and "Jump" by Van Halen, and several Motley Crue tunes, although they played a lot more. Staying in line with the '80s hair metal lifestyle, they were completely blatant about exploiting the aesthetics of attractive young ladies. Warning, if you're a woman and easily offended by the treatment of them as objects, don't watch this video! I'm not a misogynist or anything, I just thought it was pretty funny.

That was the end of the night for us after it was over. To unwind and relax after such an energetic show, Allain cruised a little around the Hollywood hills, where he told us the cheapest houses there are $2 million...Outrageous. We got some nice New York-style pizza then went home. Today has been a relaxing day so far, but I'll get into whatever details I have for you tomorrow. Until next time!

Day 5: Hollyweird

Yes, it's still a very surreal experience staying here in Pasadena. It's pretty hard for me to comprehend that I still have almost two weeks left here. We've been going all-out for the first five days and it doesn't look like that trend is going to run out anytime soon. Sunday began with Allain and V waking up to the trainwreck that was the night before, trying to piece together the puzzle of what happened. The outdoor couch was tipped over and surrounded by beer cans, there was an empty bottle of wine on the ground near it, a dirt-covered, nearly-empty bottle of Bacardi was sitting on the table, and Allain and V had fingers that felt like they'd been broken. They hadn't, but they ultimately figured out that they must have loaded up then gotten in a fistfight, all while Justin and I slept. Allain's naked episode still disturbs me, and it will probably haunt my dreams forever.

We relaxed for a few hours before cleaning up then going to an indie theater in downtown Pasadena. I actually spotted a cloud at one point, debunking my theory that humidity doesn't exist out here. But it was still very comfortable weather, despite temperatures nearing 100 degrees. We went to the Playhouse theater to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona, the new Woody Allen film. I was skeptical after watching the trailer, but I have to say the trailer doesn't do the film justice. It's a very funny, well-written and well-acted dramedy that deserves more attention than it has been getting. Javier Bardem and Scarlett Johanssen are both very good as two artists who end up falling for each other, at least for a little while. It's Penelope Cruz who really steals the show here, though, as Bardem's explosive ex-wife. I'd definitely highly recommend this film to anyone over 18, and I say that because it's definitely geared toward a more mature audience.

The day concluded with a nighttime trip back to Hollywood. We still haven't caught the sign, but we were able to experience the strip this time. After downing some Mickey's in a parking garage (probably my low point of the trip so far), we hit up the bar scene which wasn't big last night but not bad. We weren't expecting anything crazy on a Sunday night anyway. We strolled down the Walk of Fame, where I snapped pics of several notable stars of my generation like Tom Hanks. We also saw the famous Chinese Theater, which was even bigger than I had imagined. The first bar we went to was called the Pig N' Whistle, to which Justin and V remembered going on their last trip to Cali. It was a fun time, there was a live band called Burning Wagon, which played some of the obligatory bar-rock songs like "Sweet Home Alabama".

We finally decided to go home at around 3:00 when all the bars were closing. When we got back to the garage, we were angered to find a big metal gate closed in front. There was still a security guard inside, though, and he started yelling at us for "breaking" the gate which is pretty much impossible for any human to do with his bare hands. We tried reasoning with the guy, but he only get angrier. I can't remember what was said or who said it, but one of us made a remark that set the guy off and he called the police on us. This set Allain off, and V and I had to pull him away to the street to let Justin talk to him. Allain yelled at the guy using several pejorative terms toward Italians (which I don't think he was anyway, I think he was Greek), even though Allain himself is about 85% Italian. I'm not sure how he did it, but Justin worked enough magic to get the guy to let him in so he could get Allain's truck and get us out of there. If the guy kept being a hardass, I'm not sure what we would've done. As he was driving us home, Justin said we really shouldn't have gotten the truck back right then and there, so I guess we should consider ourselves lucky.

Last night was a pretty emotionally heavy night for us, so I predict that this will be our first night of non-drinking. We need to take it easy anyway, because once our friend Jimmy flies out here on Wednesday the partying will start all over again. I remember discussing the beach with the guys at some point yesterday, so we're likely to make today a beach day so we can unwind. I would like to check out Laguna Beach, so hopefully we'll go there. Some kind of resort place would be great for our minds, which are all wound up pretty tightly right now. I'll be sure to let everyone know how it goes. Until next time, I am checking out.

Days 1-4: Recalling the Blur

California is one of those places one should always visit at some point, provided they aren't actually from the area. It seemed to me like an area I would consider residing once I'm out in the real world, but I needed to experience it before making any kind of firm decision. Being two years away from graduating college and uncertain of what kind of freedom my time would give me after that, I figured this summer was the best time to take the initiative and experience west coast America for the first time ever. When my friends Justin and V informed me our trip would last eighteen days...That's when it hit me that this would be a straight-up odyssey. This is by far the farthest and longest I've ever been from home, and so far it's been almost as surreal as the final three days before we left.

Without going into too much detail, I'll just say that within three days, my four future roommates and I terminated our lease for the four-floor rat-infested Roxbury slum in which we were initially going to live, signed a lease for a (literally) brand new apartment less than a quarter mile from the Northeastern campus, and moved all of our stuff home and/or into storage in preparation for our fall move-in. Our home switch is by a considerable margin the biggest upgrade we've made in anything in our lives. Our friend whom we are staying with in Pasadena, whose real name I won't disclose (you'll soon know why), had no idea what we had gone through just prior to boarding two planes to trek 3,000 miles across the country. Let's call him Allain for all intents and purposes. Needless to say, once he picked us up at LAX we were all in need of some relaxation...

...But as a whole, I would not describe our first four days here as relaxing. The first drive home to Allain's house should have given us an idea of the kind of trip we'd be in for. Allain led us through several areas of Los Angeles, and plenty of unnecessary miles on the freeway, before admitting that he did not know how to get home! Two hours later, he finally found his way back to his Altadena pad where he lives with two other guys. That only added to our soreness from the three days before the flight.

Most of the trip so far has been an unabashed blowing of our minds through all-new people, parties and lots and lots of alcohol. This is the first time any of us have been on this kind of excursion with friends after turning 21, so a shameless and legal bender could hardly do us any harm provided we looked after each other. Night number one included Sake, after we went to the Jazz Cat Cafe in Alhambra (highly recommended!). We then hung out at the place of a friend of Allain's who goes to the same film school as he does (that would be the Art Center in Pasadena). I enjoyed picking the brains of all the art students I encountered, because with the exception of a few Emerson students I know I really had no idea how the film industry or art schools worked. I've had a few awkward conversational moments due to my East Coast dialect and unique slang among my group of friends, but for the most part I had a great time mingling with LA natives. Thursday night, we went to Mindshare, a small party for professionals in many aspects of business with the purpose of networking and establishing contacts, something that is very important to experience success in art or entertainment. Since Justin, V and I had no need to network with anyone, we were skeptical. The cover charge was $25, but Allain's friend got us in for free. Open bar + paying zero dollars to get in = a surprisingly entertaining and fun second night in LA.

We did get to soak in some sun and ride some nice waves at Zuma Beach in Malibu, which apparently is not a good beach according to our friend and his brother (despite the fact that it completely blows New England beaches away), but that is the extent of our relaxation so far. We are definitely planning on hitting up the beaches in Venice and other areas of Malibu before our time is up here. That picture at the top of the page is just one of the gorgeous landscapes around this beach. After Zuma, we had dinner at an all-you-can-eat sushi bar called Kyoto. Five-star establishment without a doubt, if you're a fan of sushi. Friday night, we went to the house of another one of Allain's Art Center friends for his 23rd birthday. Again, we were skeptical due to knowing nobody besides each other going into it, but once again, we had quite the time. Justin and I were desperate for a chance to play some guitar, and we were both convinced we could not make it 18 days without touching one. The birthday boy came through in the clutch for us with two acoustics for us. Our drunken sing-along of a string of '90s one-hit wonders is definitely one of the highlights of the trip thus far.

That brings us to last night, where we ventured to Hollywood for the Big Wang's bar. Before we even got in, we had non-New Englanders in our collective grills. Justin, at the time unaware of the uproar he would cause, wore his Patriots hat to the bar. Of course, where was the bouncer from? New York. He hesitated for about .35 seconds before reminding us of Superbowl XLII. We, of course, had to remind him of the Yankees' questionable handling of the golden arm of young stud Joba Chamberlain. What else could we say to the guy? He was a straight shooter and fast talker so we did not want to argue with him for too long. Once we got in, we naturally ran right into some Raiders and 49ers fans. They let us know how they felt about the Pats, and we promptly let them know how piss-poor both of their teams are right now. When one of the guys showed us his Raiders logo tattoo on his back, we backed off a bit. We soon found common ground with them, though, with our Yankees hatred.

Justin and I ordered some Long Island Ice Teas, which is an inexplicably delicious drink that's usually about 3/4 alcohol with a dash of coke. A curious thing happened here: one of the Raiders fans told us we ordered a "chick drink." I immediately looked at him cock-eyed, and he only confused me more when he explained his reasoning. He said he buys LIIT's for his girlfriend to get her drunk quickly...So basically, a LIIT is a "chick drink" to this guy because it has a lot of alcohol in it...Just take a moment to process that logic. Don't think too hard about it though, or it will give you as bad a headache as I got. He told me to order a "real beer", so I guess anything that's not beer is a chick drink now. By far the most unusual encounter I've had with an LA native thus far.

Regardless, Big Wang's was a great time with very good service and generous bartenders in terms of the alcohol they put in our drinks. The only disappointing thing about it was that it closed at 2 a.m. I always figured California bars, especially in Hollywood, would be open almost all night, but apparently most close at 2. Our friend Hunter, who was nice enough to come out with us and be the designated driver, got us home safe, something that would NOT have happened had any of us gotten behind the wheel. What would happen when we got back to the apartment is unquestionably one of the most unusual, hilarious yet downright disturbing moments of my life. (WARNING: This story is relatively brief, but not appropriate for anyone young. In fact, I wouldn't really want anyone old to read this either. Now that I think of it, maybe nobody should read this...But for the sake of legend please read on. Just use a little discretion.)

This is why Allain's name had to be changed. Friends of ours should almost certainly know who we're talking about, but I would not want to completely publicize his name after this. We got back to the house around 2:30, and I was exhausted from the jet lag from which I still haven't recovered. I took the crappy cot in Allain's room for the second straight night, but I didn't really care because I was about to pass out. I did, as did Justin, but V and Allain stayed up. These two are notorious for shamlessly binging; frankly I can count on both hands the number of nights I was astonished to see them escape alive. Might not be healthy, safe or smart on their parts, but it certainly makes for some great stories!

As confirmed by both of them, V and Allain promptly went against all drinking logic by pounding Bacardi and wine after being hammered, smashed, trashed, sloshed, wasted and obliterated off beer and Grateful Deads. At around 3:30, I woke up from sleep and heard them storming around the house doing God knows what. The bedroom door flew open and I turned to see who it was. It was Allain...Completely nude. He was definitely blacked out, but that's no excuse to strip all your clothes off around a bunch of guys for no reason. Thankfully, he had one hand over his package a la Jason Segel in that one scene in Knocked Up. That one hand maneuver saved me from puking and going blind within four seconds. Justin woke up early that morning to see Allain asleep, face down, legs sprawled, ass hanging out, but was too lazy to get his camera phone, missing an opportunity for a delightfully incriminating photo op. It frightens me to think of what Allain will do when he hangs out with Mr. X for a night when we go to Vegas.

Speaking of that, I am looking forward to next Friday night more than almost anything I've done in all three years of college. Justin will turn 23 that day, and we will embark on a trip-within-a-trip to none other than Sin City itself. My brother Mike, whom I haven't seen since January, happens to live on the outskirts of the city, so we will stay at his house for a night then head back to Cali Saturday morning. Even if I leave Vegas broke, it will still undoubtedly be a hugely memorable night for myself and the crew. Since there are likely stories to come out of that night that are impossible to keep to myself, I assure you that whatever happens there won't stay there...

The only other major plan we have for this trip is Disneyland. I haven't experienced anything Disney since my family went to Florida in 1995. That should also be quite the time. Also, several of our friends from school will be visiting, starting next week. Tyler Murphy, one of our closest Northeastern friends, will make an appearance on the 31st, marking the first time we got to hang out with him for an extended period of time since last winter. Jimmy Muller, another close friend of ours, will make his presence felt this coming Wednesday. Since our crew, and places to see, are only getting bigger, I anticipate this trip to only get better.