this column is probably why im not a columnist

There’s this thing going on today in LA Twitter asking people where are the most cursed places in LA.

Fuck that shit.

People are saying this intersection or that one. This Target Husk or that spot where Biggie got shot.

Fuck it all.

LA, like anything interesting and valuable, is complicated, deep, and at times just as beautiful as it is fugly.

The intersection that you don’t like because it doesn’t have a roundabout on it or a stop light or a street light, I fucking love for the exact same reasons.

I live in walking distance of Target Husk and for going on five years I have seen that half built structure tease me, the innocent child stuck in a custody case. Is it too big? Is the Home Depot of the same size next to it?

Q. Do we need 100 Targets?
A: DO WE NEED 1,000 STARBUCKS?

And now that it finally has been okayed to finish being built, I’m missing its unkempt, crappy plastic flapping in the wind. Soon it will just be another Target. Fuck that.

So many people move to LA and first thing they wanna do is bitch. OMG it’s so expensive. OMG people are so phony. OMG the traffic. OMG the parking. OMG OMG OMG.

You know what wasn’t expensive or phony or trafficky with plenty of parking? The fucking village you fled from the second you could.

LA is the beautiful model actress hooker waitress you continually whine about being high maintenance even though you broke up with your perfectly reasonable “love” when you climbed into your UHaul.

Yes there are fucked up intersections. Avoid them. Yes there are bad drivers. They’re called New Yorkers! And yes shit cost money here but look around, there’s more opportunity to make those ends here in LA than where you graduated high school, so suck it up or move back home like all the other quitters.

If LA was easy everyone would live here.

It’s only cursed on Twitter.

always be prepared

i wasnt a boy scout but i was a cub scout and then webelo and i loved them both

and one thing that stuck with me was to be prepared.

so with this rash of earthquakes here in LA, reddit has been a good place for people to show off their emergency bags and this guy showed his today

and people weren’t having it.

they said the water supply was too low, as was the food,

and this person should have a 12 inch wrench to turn off the gas

and gas masks to filter out the toxic air

and way more clothes and prescriptions and weed and booze and blankets

although i think the altoids might actually be weed.

their feedback made me nervous because i dont think i have enough water now

or a wrench or the proper gas masks

all of which i will buy this week because

i loved cub scouts

25 years ago i was selling tvs at the Sears in Santa Barbara

and on one of the 50″ projection screen i watched a looter coming out of an electronics store on sunset in hollywood, it is now a Ross Dress For Less, and he was wheeling out i’d say a 46″ projection screen, down sunset and then down La Brea.

people were looting because of the verdict of the Rodney King beating

i had a customer who said, maybe i should just drive down to LA and save $3,000.

his son, who was dicking around in the nearby camcorder area sarcastically yelled out

shotgun!

i was in Santa Barbara because i was in love with Jeanine and did not move to Prague with the rest of my friends who were starting the first english language newspaper there, Prognosis. which is probably just as well because if i had moved there, i would wager i would have met a beautiful Czech girl and i would still be there with our large family.

and the internet would have never have had almost 16 years of the world famous busblog

i know: joy.

xbi sent me to south central the other night

they were all, tell me what you see.

i said i see a park with sprinklers going, a motorhome parked in front of a nice house

theres palm trees, stars,  a park bench

they said, but is there a black out? do any of the houses have lights on?

i said, oh, no. i mean yes. yes theres a black out here.

and then i heard,

perfect.

it was so windy i literally saw tumbleweeds from The Past

that were blown into the Present due to the freak climate change.

what i remember about the riots was that it felt like what happens when you really have to barf.

something happens, you feel gross, and then everything comes out

even the bile.

especially the bile.

and then you look at it.

and clean it up.

and you feel better.

i can’t speak for all black people, but this black person felt better during and after the riots.

during because the message was being delivered in a powerful way.

after because the message was heard and shit quickly got in action.

did the individual parts make any sense when viewed in a vacuum?

burning your own neighborhood

stealing things you really dont need

rolling those things down a city sidewalk and thus throwing the light bulbs out of wack, ruining the tv

assaulting innocent white folk in a disgusting and shameful way?

no.

but that was the bile.

the filth at the bottom.

in the very first viral video we saw a man surrounded by people with guns and tasers and sticks

and we saw that man ruthlessly pummel a black man in a disgusting and shameful way.

the evidence was right there for all to see.

clear as numbers on a scoreboard.

and the verdict seemed like fiction.

a terrible dream.

even when things are painfully obvious that you should win, black people, you will lose.

and the people said

not today.

today, we all lose.

so many things have happened in the last few days, heres a quickie summary

gnarls barkley

flew home from ORD -> LAX and sat next to the smelliest man in America. there should be a law against being that stinky on a plane trip.

virgin air is the best airline in the world. i always feel so grateful any time i am on it. everyones so nice. the tech is always so good.

took the Flyaway from LAX to union station and then the red line home. $12 total including the $2 i gave the busdriver. fast clean lovely.

when i got home Jeanine had cleaned my room, made my bed, did my laundry and had a fish dinner waiting for me. thats love. what a sweet girl. someone get her a cheap room in a great pad even though i will miss how clean my house has been.

there really is something about sleeping in your own bed.

my cats missed me. they couldnt stop being sweet. they never sleep next to the tv but they did so they could keep an eye on me. how adorable.

yesterday i stayed home and watched football from morning til night. God the Bears are terrible. this was the first time i actually bet that they would lose a game. and sure enough they lost big.

before that i watched Vin Scullys last game as a Dodger announcer. he made them play him singing The Wind Beneath My Wings to the whole stadium. it preempted their celebration by about 5 minutes but the team hung in there. many fans cried. i may have cried a little watching them cry. the cats cried.

slept with the window open and the ceiling fan on and my bedroom door shut. the cats gave me my privacy. it was great being in Chicago and just as great being home.

today is national lazy day

lazy kidwhen andy warhol would talk to Lou Reed he’d ask, have you written any songs today?

Lou would say something like “I wrote Heroin yesterday”.

Andy would say, “that was yesterday. this is now 1:42pm, you should have written a song this morning and one at lunch already.”

and Lou would take the needle out of his arm and say, fine, and write Andy’s Chest or Waiting on the Man.

a week later theyd have a similar conversation and before Lou knew it the Velvet Underground had an entire album of songs ready to go.

Andy was just as prolific and his critics could argue that he was using the printing press or interns to help him, he would say work doesnt mean you have to stretch a canvas, mix your paints, treat the canvas, have a glass of wine and meditate and then start painting to create work. all that was required to work is that you start working.

i can go through major lazy periods where i dont do anything but lay in my bed and whisper sweet nothings to the cheerleaders and before i know it it’s Sunday afternoon and time to read the bible and do laundry. because i know how lazy i can get i often find myself with more than one job.

in frisco i had three jobs because that place did not inspire me one bit to make art. or write. or rule. it was pretty but that was it. im glad im gone and i rarely go back. LA is my lady because this place has an underground railroad of hits rumbling under the surface.

even though the mainstream media would have you believe that the only places of interest are either along the coast or from santa monica through downtown, theres massive amounts of energy in the valley, in the hood and East of LA.

why dont they cover those areas?

because theyre lazy.

and if andy warhol was their boss he’d hit em with a flower.