100 THINGS I MISS ABOUT L.A.

Though I'm quite happy to be living in Atlanta for the time being and would have mixed feelings about moving back to L.A. were it to happen before I felt I had thoroughly explored the South, there are times when I long for places and things that are closer to my heart. Other than family and friends, these are some of the things I find myself sentimentalizing over during the swampy days of August and the rainy, wintry days of February.

1. Casa Bianca Pizza Pie

2. The Downtown L.A. Art Walk

3. The sea breeze (I long for your gentle caresses)

4. Reading the L.A. Times in print (even though the paper is slowly going in the toilet)

5. Warm sun year-round (I took you for granted all those years)

6. The best burritos to be found anywhere (I get more specific below)

7. Culver City

8. Bumping into people I know

9. Psychedelic sunsets

10. Taco trucks

11. Santa Monica Mountains

12. Boba drinks everywhere (Boba Time is my favorite chain)

13. Valley Boulevard (my favorite street in L.A. to wander around from Garfield Ave. in Alhambra heading east)

14. LACMA

15. American Cinematheque and especially the Film Noir Festival in April

16. Pink's Hot Dogs

17. Vegan restaurants everywhere

18. Langer's Deli

19. The Tomorrow Show at the Steve Allen Theatre (though it's not quite the same without Brendon Small and Craig Anton)

20. The Bradbury Building (my favorite piece of architecture in L.A.)

21. Union Station (with the sun pouring in the giant windows)

22. Warm summer evenings without the jungle-like humidity of Atlanta

23. Farmers Market

24. Griffith Observatory (this has really improved, but the parking situation is not so good)

25. UCLA Thrift Store

26. The drive up the 110 (Arroyo Seco Parkway) to Pasadena

27. The PCH to Malibu

28. Extreme multiculturalism (like Mexican families shopping in Thai markets, etc.)

29. The Brand Library

30. Orean The Health Express in Pasadena

31. Koreatown

32. Korean tacos (can't find those anywhere else I don't think)

Update: Actually, I found out there is a Korean Taqueria in Atlanta. Will head there soon.

33. Biltmore Hotel

34. San Vicente Blvd. to the ocean by car or bicycle

35. Sunset Blvd. from the 405 to the PCH (that would be my favorite segment, the Beverly Hills part is nice too, though the Hollywood section doesn't do anything for me except make me worry about parking)

36. Stan's Doughnuts in Westwood (the chocolate chip doughnut, the blueberry buttermilk doughnut)

37. Bob's Big Boy in Burbank

38. Daytrips to Ventura

39. Pico Blvd. (Next to Valley Blvd. and Sunset, Pico would rank third among my favorite streets and I love the whole thing from Downtown to the beach)

40. Papa Christos (a nice stop on Pico, near where Jabberjaw used to be)

41. Campos Famous Burritos (the avocado burrito at any location)

42. Puebla Tacos in Pasadena

43. The Salvation Army in Pasadena

44. The drive along the 134 through Eagle Rock (near sunset is a good time)

43. The connector to the 110 from Hollywood to Downtown going South

44. The San Gabriel Mountains (there are no real mountains on the East Coast or in the South)

45. The Old Bank District Downtown (I wish that I lived there when I was 23 or so, except that it was messed up then)

46. The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA (generally better exhibits than at the other MOCA location for whatever reason)

47. Los Feliz Blvd. as you cross the L.A. River toward Atwater Village

48. South Pasadena

49. Watching Clippers games (you really have to be an Angeleno to care at all about the Clippers and it is a love/hate relationship for all fans).

50. Griffith Park

51. HMS Bounty on Wilshire (old bars with tons of atmosphere are not something you find in Atlanta)

52. El Cholo (guacamole prepared table side, sitting in the special booth where you get a free plate of nachos)

53. Foggy Westside evenings

54. Main St. in Alhambra (and the Mallternative gang of teenagers that hangs out there)

55. Bahn Mi sandwiches in the San Gabriel Valley

56. Craftsman homes in Pasadena

57. Pickup basketball at the LA Fitness gym on La Cienega (games are at my slow pace)

58. The hot sauce at Flore Vegan in Silver Lake, along with the Eastsider Tacos (I'm always afraid, though, that I'm going to contract hepatitis or herpes from the hipster wait staff)

59. The hot sauce and the JVC burrito at Burrito Express in Pasadena

60. 99 Ranch Market in San Gabriel

61. Orange Grove Boulevard in Pasadena (reminds me of the book Mildred Pierce)

63. The eggless salad (tofu) sandwich at Whole Foods (these are not available at Whole Foods in Atlanta)

64. The Colorado or Suicide Bridge in Pasadena

65. Pupusas everywhere

66. Grand Central Market downtown

67. Ticktocker Thrift Shop in Culver City

68. Jewish Delis on the Westside (Fromin's, Junior's)

69. 99 Cent Only Stores

70. Pickup basketball at the Venice Beach Boardwalk

71. Regional Chinese food

72. Horchata (It's available here, but it tastes better in L.A. for some reason)

73. Old diners in the San Gabriel Valley (even the ones with crummy food)

74. Glendale Avenue in Glendale (especially the very Armenian part south of Colorado)

75. Brand Bookshop in Glendale

76. Din Tai Fung Dumpling House in Arcadia

77. Alta Dena Cottage Cheese (can't find that in Georgia)

78. So many art house movie theaters and movie theaters in general

79. Sunset Junction Street Fair

80. Tacos La Flama in West L.A. (Is the menu the same as Campos? This used to be a Campos. Anyhow, this place on Barrington is even better)

81. Mario's Italian Deli in Glendale

82. Washington Boulevard in Pasadena (a lot of varied neat stuff on this street like weird, old gas stations)

83. Altadena

84. Little Saigon

85. The old theaters on Broadway Downtown, though I've never been inside the majority of them

86. Musso & Frank Grill

87. City Hall (not so much the people inside, but the iconic, phallic building)

88. Videotheque in South Pasadena

89. Neurotic Jews everywhere (mostly in their cars late to get somewhere)

90. Tough Latinos everywhere (I have never seen a tough looking Latino in Atlanta)

91. Santa Anita Race Track

92. Coyotes (never seen one of those in Atlanta)

93. Mulholland Drive (a good place to bump into coyotes)

94. The 101 drive into Hollywood from the Valley with the view of the Capitol Records building

95. Vietnamese food everywhere

96. Zelo cornmeal crust pizza in Arcadia

97. The Mid-Wilshire District

98. bicycling on the beach

99. Museum of Jurassic Technology

100. Things that have disappeared in recent years such as the Mann National Theater, Laemmle's One Colorado Cinemas, the Rialto Theatre, Rhino Records, Dutton's Books, Gene de Chene Books, the Westwood Arcade and the Ambassador Hotel.

TIRES

Tire shops are ubiquitous in Georgia easily outnumbering stores that sell things you might actually want. I have pondered why there are so many and the first thing that came to mind is that it does rain a fair amount and after the rain there are a lot of potholes, which could cause significant tire damage. However, I would speculate that the real reason for so many tire shops is a general lack of imagination. Just because you have a bunch of old tires laying around your property and like to mess with cars doesn't mean you should open a tire shop in a saturated market.


On one occasion, I did visit a local tire shop, the late, great Blessing Tire Shop or Blessen Tire Shop (the spelling depends on which side of the building you are looking at). Being a Westside Jew unaccustomed to Southern ways hobbling in on an old flat tire, I naturally assumed that I would be purchasing a new tire or set of tires. Instead, the fella there pulled a nail out of my tire and fixed it for $5. He told me that I could pay him any amount I wanted for filling the tires with air. A month later, a comparatively sleek looking tire store opened across the street (actually I believe they just renovated the place) from Blessing Tire Shop and not surprisingly, Blessing went out of business. It was a cheerless end to a not quite glorious institution.

Anyhow, tire shops in Georgia tend to be exceptionally bedraggled and somewhat photogenic:

$20 max. Can't beat that price.

$20 seems to be the going rate for a used tire

Some tire stores expand into the rim business.

Designing their signs seems to be an afterthought

No more tires


People or at least one person has taken to sitting in front of Blessing Tire Shop. I apologize for not having any photos of it in its glory days when it was up and running and the sun shined high in the sky.

It likely wasn't such a great day for Blessing Tire Shop. Nope, I don't think it was.

PICKUP BASKETBALL AS PLAYED IN THE SOUTH FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A WESTSIDE JEW

You would never guess it by looking at my Jew ass, but I play a fair amount of pickup basketball, and have for several years, even though I have the most limited skills and I'm neither in shape, nor athletic. Since moving to Atlanta, I have witnessed some very serious basketball played at pickup games. The game here is an exceedingly different one than the game played in L.A.

Defense is often an afterthought in pickup games, but in Atlanta, individuals and thrown-together teams play real defense and win by stopping the other team. It's rare that I've ever seen anyone dunk in a pickup game in L.A. In Atlanta, it's a common occurrence. There might be three different guys on one team who dunk in a game. I've seen some flashy dunks, off the backboard and such.

I wouldn't say the game is necessarily more competitive in Atlanta because even the crummiest pickup game can be competitive. But the games do resemble something you might actually want to watch as opposed to guys arguing with each other after every play, not that that doesn't happen in Atlanta too.

Pickup games in L.A. tend me to be more multiethnic, while in Atlanta, games are more multiethnic in the suburbs, where I can find games where I actually fit in skill-wise. (I'm a member of the LA Fitness gym which has 25 or more gyms in the Atlanta area, so I have plenty of choices as to where to play.) Naturally, I try not to insert my not-at-all athletic self into competitive games where just my presence on the court will help the other team win. But I do often find myself in games where everyone's ability level is way beyond mine and where I'm the only white guy.

It's often the case that here in the South, while playing in a gym, someone shouts something to me or at me and I have no idea what they are saying. It's a combination of a Southern accent and the acoustics of a gym that make their taunts or whatever undecipherable to me. However, I can usually understand "Play defense!" or "Guard yo' man!" One time this guy fell down kicking me slightly and asked "Are you straight?" I could only think that he was referring to the many gay guys that work out in this particular gym in Atlantic Station in Midtown. I replied "What?" He repeated, "Are you straight?" and taken aback I replied, "What do you mean by that?" He then explained, "I kicked you in the knee. Are you straight?" It was actually just Southern hospitality rearing its head at an odd moment. I said "Yes. I'm straight" and we resumed the game.

The biggest difference I've noticed in Atlanta from elsewhere is how the game 21 is played. I've played in Upstate New York too and have observed how the game can be played in many different variations. For those who don't know the game, 21 can be played by any number of players at one basket. The person with the ball can be guarded by one or more players and gets two points for each basket. In L.A., you shoot from the free throw line after each basket, making one point each, and can make up to three baskets in a row after which you take the ball out. In Atlanta, you shoot your free throws from the three point line. (This reminds me that another difference in pickup basketball is that three pointers count for two points in Atlanta, while in L.A. they usually count as regular one-point shots). Each person in 21 counts up their own points. When you get to 20, in L.A. you shoot from the three-point line to win; in Atlanta, you sometimes shoot from near half court, though not always. If you miss that final shot, you go back to 15. The half court shot, when the game is played that way, can drag the game on forever. In L.A., 21 is usually played by 3 to 5 players, while in Atlanta, it can be up to 9 guys playing. It's my Jew-ass opinion that playing 21 with 9 guys is a mess (especially because I never manage to grab a rebound and if I do the ball is immediately stolen from me), but it's a popular way to play here. In L.A., with that many people, you would likely play three on three or four on four, which is rare in Atlanta for whatever reason. Also, people slam dunk during games of 21 here, which I have never once seen in L.A.

I guess another main difference for me playing here is that I often feel out of place, but am determined to play anyways because it's fun and an excellent workout. When my hair is long, I wear a headband and look like Björn Borg if he had been really out of shape. One time a guy asked me if I was Spanish. I might as well be a lisping Spanish dude wearing pantaloons. Though, I guess it's sort of an American trait that even if you suck at something (though, I don't quite suck, I can play OK defense and occasionally shoot the three), no matter the glances others give you or the undecipherable taunts you receive, you keep at it stubbornly.

MONTANA AVENUE: STREET OF THE DAMNED

I often find myself sentimentalizing about various aspects of L.A., such as Glenoaks Boulevard or TV Café, which no one in their right mind should give a damn about. One place, though, that I have zero affection for and which actually physically sickens me is Montana Avenue in Santa Monica, where every third person is carrying a yoga mat. Here is a sort of bitter high school type poem, which might be scrawled on notebook paper during detention, about the insidiousness of Montana Avenue:

Aromatherapeutic quaint
afternoon latte sipping
organic kitchenware pit of hell
burn boutique burn
Williams-Sonoma face explosion
dog pillow emporium
for plastic surgery victims
eating Tuscan wood-fired
chicken alfredo death burgers
beauty salon where the souls of the dead
rise and ravage the creative hairstyles
of the pilates Nazis
holistic whore with spectacular
collage art on display
your novelty dog and cat sweaters
don’t fit
and
aren’t cute.

http://www.montanaave.com/home/index.asp

FRIED TURKEY

Listening to Georgia Public Radio the other day, my wife caught a story which was a list of safe suggestions for Thanksgiving, which can get so out of control I guess. One of these suggestions was not to fry the turkey in a pot of oil. I had never heard of or imagined this idea of fried turkey. While normal turkey is fairly disgusting and frying it couldn't make it any worse, it seems like an all-around cockamamie idea to fry something as large as a turkey. But I live in the South now and I guess I should try and get used to the idea of small mammals, fairly large birds and even medium-sized humanoids being deep-fried. Happy Thanksgiving, my Bejesus-lovin', gravy-simmering, Jew-frying neighbors.

THE FRINGE FACTORY

Over the decades, I've been to all types of themed clubs: '60s underground garage rock, '70s disco, the obligatory '80s new wave, '20s speakeasy, Brit-pop, goth, industrial (lame), soul and hip-hop. But I do not recall ever attending a '60s psychedelic-themed club. I'm very much into the British whimsical style of psychedelia that the likes of Donovan and Syd Barrett mastered, anything about gnomes or butterflies (if you can write songs about those subjects, then you are a great songwriter), though I've never been so crazy for the generally American version that's more about wanky guitars.

Anyhow, I was excited about The Fringe Factory, Atlanta's monthly club that was previously held at the Highland Ballroom (where we checked out the Peachtree Soul Club last week), but which has recently moved to a much larger space, the Spring4th Center in Midtown. Upon arrival last night, I was immediately impressed with the attention to detail in the club's decoration: the little mushroom statues (I saw a guy try to put a drink on one), the beaded curtain style door in the space and time machine chill lounge (where there was an Asian gal DJ playing some out-there, mostly ambient music), the 45s strung together in the Peacock Lounge, the kaleidoscopic art on the walls and the '60s movies playing in several rooms. There were only a couple of bearded fellows in attendance who looked as if they had actually experienced the '60s, but in general the crowd skewed pretty old, near my age (38), and it was not so dominated by hipsters. A decent amount of people were dressed up. My tie-dye and various velour shirts no longer fit. The smoking jacket didn't really make sense. My blue velvet jacket is a little too warm for a club. So, the wife (who only wears black and purple) and I were dressed as if it were any odd night out.

In the main room, the music blasting was obscure psych and I couldn't name even one of the bands they played. Psychedelic music doesn't necessarily lend itself to dancing, except for that spacey hippy dance one can really only do in an ironic fashion. So the main room was more of a band room, while the Peacock Lounge around back was where the majority of the dancing was going on to a '60s soul soundtrack. I wasn't nuts about either of the two main stage acts, the New Orleans organ/puppet show, Quintron and Miss Pussycat, whom I saw over a decade ago play in the LAX Theme Building's Encounter Bar in L.A., or the Electric Cycles, a local garage band with floppy hair and suits. But in the Peacock Lounge, there were two terrific sets by Spencer Garn's Psychedelic Organ. This local gentleman can play the organ and he and his all-instrumental band grooved frenetically for two sets, including a late night one that packed a small enthusiastic crowd 'til 2:30 am. What was with the one couple dirty dancing? They were so wild that people had to clear out somewhat when the girl flipped around with her heels in the air. I thought it neat that this club went to 4 am, though I didn't last to that hour. I haven't checked out Atlanta's nightlife scene extensively, but compared to elsewhere, I'd say it's very much lively and groovy with plenty of gigantic, fairly unique club spaces and no shortage of swell ideas and themes. And drinks are so cheap, $5 for a cocktail in many places, as if it was 1992.

www.myspace.com/fringefactory

DETHKLOK, MASTODON AND CONVERGE AT TABERNACLE

There is such a plethora of churches in Atlanta, the South and actually the whole length and width of this silly country, thank the lord someone turned one of them into a godless concert venue. I had heard talk of the club Tabernacle, but had just walked by the huge brick edifice of this converted church for the first time a few days before the brutal concert lineup that had turned me into a hyperactive, shrieking schoolgirl: Mastodon, Converge and the almighty Dethklok.

When I arrived at the packed and very sold-out (scalper tickets were $80), all-ages concert, I was blown away by the humongousness of Tabernacle (its capacity is 2600 smelly people). It has two separate balcony floors, a very large basement that could be a venue itself, a crowded outside smoking area and numerous rooms filled with assorted antiques, stained glass and what looked to be leftover fake outsider art from when the venue was a House of Blues briefly in the '90s. The very large main room has a beautiful chandelier and a neat, painted ceiling (I'm going to guess it's not original, but it could be) partially obscured by concert lighting. An awesome venue, Tabernacle is owned by the largest concert company in the world, Live Nation, who book Wembley Arena in London and the like.

I had seen Converge in their earlier years, when they were associated with the mostly East Coast metalcore scene (I don't even think that term is in use anymore). They have since matured into a nuanced extreme metal band and I very much dig their latest and perhaps finest record, Axe to Fall, which came out a few weeks ago. I think the parts of the capacity crowd not familiar with Converge, which would be most of the crowd, took a while to get used to singer Jacob Bannon, the spastic, somewhat awkward, Napoleon-sized fella with the receding hairline, who does not look very metal. Also, the guitar was way too low in the mix for the first few songs. But by the end of their shredding set, which bent from gloom to screeching din to massive mosh chords, folks were very much into it. Converge has taken the aesthetic of New England straight-edge-sounding hardcore to the outer limits.

http://www.convergecult.com

Mastodon is one of Atlanta's preeminent bands and I had never quite made it to see them before. I have always dug where they were coming from, their mega-themed albums conceived on subjects like Herman Melville's Moby Dick and their new album, Crack the Skye, which has a Tsarist Russian theme. It's maybe more the concepts and originality that I admired than the actual music. (I have always been a sucker for any metal with even the slightest literary or historic reference.) So, more so than the other bands, I was truly floored by their show, which was accompanied by some mesmerizing video imagery of evil men in beards, dueling Chinese dragons, giant, Satanic-looking buckheads and lots of burning devil creatures. The band itself is bearded and coiffed like a heavy metal version of Black Oak Arkansas, as Southern backwoods metal looking as you can get. These burly fellas play some highfalutin music that is both psychedelic and gargantuan, no easy task, and manage to live up to all their hype.

http://www.mastodonrocks.com

Dethklok is of course the most successful band in the history of music, the twelfth largest economy in the world, just above Belgium. The animated deth metal band is the creation of Brendon Small, who previously did the brilliant animated Home Movies on Adult Swim for five seasons before coming up with the ludicrous original concept of Metalocalpyse about a dunderheaded death metal band that has become a cultural and economic force. Though the show was scheduled in the wee hours and episodes were generally eleven minutes long, Metalocalpyse struck a chord in the almost humorless universe of metal, making fun of minutia of the genre well beyond This is Spinal Tap. Rather than try to replicate the characters on the show and turn them into life-size versions onstage, which would have been not all that easy to pull off and perhaps turned out like Bear Country Jamboree, the live show is made up of subtly humorous videos, with a lot of similar imagery to Mastodon's videos or any metal videos you might see on Headbangers Ball, only with the violence and irony quotient turned way up. Brendon and his band, who look not at all like a death metal band, sounded utterly authentic aided by a fanatical audience, who shouted along to the lyrics, an almost unheard of happening at death metal concerts, and bought a lot of merch. While Mastodon's set was nearly as lengthy as Moby Dick, Dethklok kept it short and to the point, pulverizing my brain into a piece of lifeless putty.

http://www.adultswim.com/shows/metalocalypse/index.html