Thursday, September 16, 2010

Helicopters and Yogurt Shops

 "No Helicopters looking for the murder."  Ice cube, A Good Day

Sprinkled between all the palm trees and bmw convertibles is a dream.  A dream that 1,000 people will walk out of a bus, plane, or car while I’m writing this to attain.  Everyone leaves somewhere with something in mind.  Whether it be a bit of fame, to prove their father wrong, or to simply leave the town that they needed to leave. 


It’s a weird place.  People work out, eat right, write, and act.  Act for a job, act for a means to an end, act like everything’s fine, or act like they’re acting.  Everyone’s an actor.  Everyone has a head-shot.

A headshot.

A picture that represents everything you are, hopefully everywhere you’ve been, and possibly everywhere you’re going.  One split of a second captured can represent infinity. 

When you leave a place to come here it means something.  It means you’re leaving behind a life, a family, and an existence, in the hopes that your hope has weight. 


All you want is a shot, a shot at the moment that makes you everything you wanted, a shot at the title, a shot at a shot. 


Where there are dreamers there are artists.  Where there are artists there are weirdos.   When the man in the Hawaiian shirt tells you he can give you free improv lessons and a free photo session, plus a chance to star next to Adam Sandler movie, you get weary. 

All the homeless men and women you see in Hollywood were would-bee’s.  Their makeup and costumes are last resort, and their resort is at the intersection of Hollywood and Highland.  They are still in show business, though.  They are perpetuating an existence that is really tangible and also intangible.  That’s why the risk of moving out to Los Angeles is such a high.  You could end up Maryline Monroe or Spider man on the street, selling poleriods, or actually being the next Maryline Monroe or Spiderman.

Once you start here…it’s hard to stop.  You’ve come this far.  Why turn back?  There is still a ring you have to drop in a volcano made of evil. (A Lord of the Rings reference)  You can’t turn back, because if you do then everything you’ve risked means nothing.


It’s a weird place.  You can hike next to a millionaire, dance with the stars, mingle in a bar with a famous person that became famous because her ex made a sex tape, or make the entire world stand on its toe's waiting for you to make them laugh just one more laugh.   There are immense ammounts of crimes that take place all the time here literally, physically, and in the world of dreams.  That’s why there are so many helicopters circling the town 24-7.  I’ve had one swoop down and almost land on my shoulder in Runyon Canyon. 

People live and smile here.  It really and generally is a happy place.  Which was surprising to me.  I’ve made amazing friends and done elaborate and amazing things.  Just wait till next Monday, when I start unleashing my fury on the Internet again. 

The world is a beautiful place.  This place, Los Angeles is a beautiful place.


Helicopters cover the sky looking for a problem.


We solve that problem with shitloads of frozen yogurt. 

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