Jan and I are settling happily into our Los Angeles, or more accurately as people have come to say while we were tramping around the country, SoCal lives. Last evening it was sufficiently cool that we closed the sliding door to the balcony of our condo. First time in a while. (Think of this as a small shout out to our friends in New England…)
We’ve also begun to figure out the tours we provide for friends passing through. So far the staple sights remain close in to Long Beach. Drives along the coast, south from here and north each provide differing delights, and are definitely the first thing. But we also enjoy taking folk to the Getty. And for the culinary oriented we enjoy a stroll through the LA Farmer’s Market. And as it happens a visit to the LaBrea tar pits has proven a constant winner among our set.
But, the sight I’m thinking about right now is getting a small experience of Tinseltown. Jan & I’ve been visiting LA, well, really visiting Jan’s family regularly for decades before finally returning to California. And over those years we’ve contrived various ways to entertain ourselves. My principal claim to family fame was suggesting one of those times that we take one of those bus tours of LA & Hollywood. As the family are all natives, of course they’ve never been to many of the landmarks of the area, probably most. And, on principle by and large avoid the landmarks of “the Industry,” as if it were the plague. This was a little turning toward the whole thing. And the tour turned out to be a lot of fun, including a stop at the now named TCL Chinese Theatre.
Now, as it happens it was on this day in 1927 that Mary Pickford & Douglas Fairbanks planted their feet in concrete in that spot in front of what was then called Graumman’s Chinese Theatre. And I can vividly recall the first time I looked at those very footprints.
What we’ve found is hard to describe. But I will try. For those with a taste for the fake and gaudy and brazen and nakedly grasping, or, just want to see Hollywood, a drive to the Chinese Theatre, finding parking near by, and with that the walk there gives everything about Hollywood in a forty-five minute excursion. If the foot traffic is particularly difficult, well, maybe an hour.
You get a block or so, depending on how far away you park of the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and an opportunity to gawk at various stars’ names. All along the way various people in full costume of one sort or another are hoping to pick up a few bucks posing for pictures with you, or your kids. Others are busking. Some are quite talented. And, then, well, there it is. The Hollywood and Highland Center, possibly the most crass and over the top (think Donald Trump on steroids) display of naked consumption which embraces the theatre like a pimp’s arms around a particularly prized prostitute.
If you walk into the complex you can go up to a higher level and get a great little view of the Hollywood sign.
Then, as we do it, you can walk back down, make your way to the theatre itself, noticing various stars on the sidewalk, avoiding, or not, various hucksters, and then there it is. The original, the only, Chinese theatre with all those foot and hand prints.
For us that’s it. We gawk a bit, then turn around and take our guests away, briskly.
One hour on the outside. Leaving me exhausted.
But, just for a moment, right there with the glitter and frippery we get to see into America’s dark heart. The worst of us. It isn’t pretty. And, at the very same time more than a hint at what we can be, as well. In the midst of the artifice and the hustle there is also enormous energy and creativity. In the midst of the corporate any number of individuals making a living as best they can, and some, even loving it, little bits of grass and an occasional flower breaking through the concrete.
In that block or two a glimpse into the play of it all. Or, really, a big part of it.
A dream of a dream within a dream.
The fake and the real.
All you have to do is bring clear eyes…
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