Ah, Los Angeles 10

You go to the gym.  It’s a wonderful gym full of wonderful people.  On Thursdays, for a reason beyond your ken, local pornstars show up in the men’s locker room.  Male porn stars.   You’re pretty sure they are porn stars because their bodies are, well, porn star like–not that you know anything about porn stars or porn for that matter.  They are hairless from the neck down, tanned,  in amazing shape and, after seeing them in the communal shower, the word endowed makes you and every other male in the place cringe with self-realization.

After swearing you’ll never undress in front of anyone again, you exit the gym feeling healthy.  The sun is shining, the air feels fresh and you feel pretty good about life until you look at the flags hanging above the entrance to the Westin Bonaventure which hang limp and mostly black.  You assume that, although it’s February, this isn’t a tribute to black awareness.  It’s just dirt.

You go to a special screening of, “The Birds” with a Q and A with Robert Osborne and Tippi Hedren.  You stand in line two hours early because you were going to eat dinner in the Arclight Hollywood complex before the show but the line scared the plan right out of you.  Everyone in the line is grousing about standing in line.  Why are you all in line?  Because TCM is handing out 25 impressively thick books on the 80 years of Oscar and you are number 26 in line because every couple in front of you is taking two.

You spread the rumor that you’ve seen the book already and it’s not that good.  Next year’s is fabulous, you say.  It doesn’t work. The books are gone when you reach the front of the line.

Even though you’re seated far enough away to be considered an outer planet, Robert Osborne is affable and you gather from the murmur of the crowd that Tippi looks great.  You once had a thing for Tippi and you once and a thing for Tippi’s daughter but that is ancient history.  She tells tales of working with Hitchcock that makes everyone’s marrow freeze.

The movie holds it’s own.  Acting and directing styles have changed over the years and at times some of it is downright silly but the story moves you from beginning to end and your cringing and laughing nervously with the rest of the audience.  You don’t tell Tippi this but you keep rooting for Suzanne Pleshette’s character even after she’s dead because you know she’d be better for Rod Taylor in the long run but does he listen?

You’ve survived another day in Hollywood and you feel good about yourself as long as you never have to see yourself naked again.


3 Responses to “Ah, Los Angeles 10”

  1. chris Says:

    YES…you are a blog written the second person. You like this. So do you.

  2. peter Says:

    I’ll thank you to keep your yous to yourself. Hey, wait a minute.

  3. barbara Says:

    funny, funny funny!!! Who are you anyway

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