Trippin' At the Tiki Ti (and Other LA Stories)
L-R: Michele, Mike, Alice, Greg, Me
I returned from my trip to Los Angeles yesterday, and now that I've had a chance to unpack, mow the lawn, and check my mail, I suppose that I better scribble down something about it for the edification of you, my not-so-gentle readers. Click on the extended entry if you're interested. It's a long story, so I don't want to take up the entire front page with it.
On Wednesday afternoon, I drove into Hollywood and spent some time checking out the Los Feliz neighborhood. I browsed around the indescribable array of books and kitsch items at Wacko, and had a look at the low-brow art on display at the La Luz de Jesus Gallery.
Before heading over to Tiki Ti to meet Michele and Alice, I decided to lay down a heavy-duty substrate of liquor-absorbing foodstuffs, so I popped into the House of Pies and ate one-half of the world's worst Monte Cristo sammich while watching a woman with a large bible get into an argument with an old man wearing a yachting cap and blazer covered with bling-bling. I felt so ill after eating the Monte Crisco, I couldn't even manage a slice of pie.
I arrived at Tiki Ti about 2 minutes after it opened and there were already several regulars bending their elbows at the bamboo bar. I started off with Ray's Mistake, a bargain at $5, and waited for my guests to arrive. After nursing it for 45 minutes, I was dry and no one had showed up yet, so I decided to try something else. After consulting with the bartender and a rather hairy gentleman seated at the bar, I decided on Jim's Special. I couldn't tell exactly what was being poured into the large cognac glass, but whatever it was set me back $15! It was incredibly strong, but very tasty.
Shortly after I returned to my table, Michele and her husband Mike arrived, followed by Alice and her man Greg. Pooch had to beg out due to band practice and Al never showed up, but we really weren't expecting him to. We talked about punk, Flipside, and coding our websites for an hour or so, then Alice and Greg left for a show.
Michele pointed out that the bar was chockablock with tiki-lebrities as everyone was there to celebrate the birthday of the Ti's founder, Ray Buhen (now sadly deceased). In short order, I was introduced to Beachbum Berry, Humuhumu, and Hanford Lemoore. I had a good talk with Berry about Barcelona tiki bars and Cuban rum and got to hold Humuhumu's cute little rum-barrel purse.
I headed back to Los Feliz with a slight hangover on Thursday to meet with Eddie, Lili, and their friend Evan from Australia. We ate lunch at a nearby diner, visited Wacko again, then drove down Hollywood Blvd to scope out some comic shops and music stores. We then returned to their apartment and watched an exceedingly bizarre old Frank Capra educational cartoon called Hemo the Magnificent, all about the wonders of the circulatory system as told to cute little cartoon animals with very familiar voices.
Lili and I went upstairs to meet her friend Wes Massey who paints wonderful mix-ups of Frida Kahlo and Lucha Libre wrestlers like the mildly disturbing Birth of the Son of Santo.
Finally, we headed out to El Carmen for dinner and drinks. The bar's ambience was everything I'd hoped for and the margaritas were magnifico. We were joined by designer, Jim Cherry, who shared a mortifyingly funny tale with us about catching Rodney Bingenheimer trying to buy Poligrip anonymously at a midnight pharmacy. Poor Rodney.
Friday was my day to hobnob with the stars at Paramount's studio lot. I shared a little golf cart with 5 other VIP guests for a 2-hour tour of Paramount's soundstages and backlot. Our guide Jim was exceedingly knowledgeable and more than happy to dish the dirt on various celebs who'd recently passed through. Jim seemed particularly gleeful sharing the sordid tale of producer Don Simpson's malfunctioning testosterone butt implants.
At the end of the tour we almost ran over 87-year old producer, A.C. Lyles, who was standing in the middle of the street, looking slightly dazed. A.C. was a stone hoot. He regaled us with ribald tales of Steve McQueen, 'Duke' Wayne, and Ronald Reagan. He also flirted outrageously with the 3 women in our tour group, particularly the Las Vegas power blond with the Louis Vuitton handbag who must've been highly aroused by the smell of money and power A.C. was exuding. Did I mention he was wearing lip gloss?
Later that afternoon, I met up with X-8 and we took a drive over to the Hollywood Forever cemetery where we paid homage to the grave of Johnny Ramone. Dee Dee is buried there too, but we couldn't find his marker. We had some Thai food at a restaurant with fabulously gorgeous Thai waitresses, then had a margarita and chatted at Lucy's El Adobe Cafe, former haunt of the Eagles, Linda Ronstadt, and her beau, Governor Moonbeam. We didn't spot any celebrities there, but we sure saw a lot of aspiring screenwriters.
X-8 and I had a lot of laughs remembering high school and catching up with what's been happening in our lives since we last saw each other in 1979. Hopefully, we won't lose touch for another 26 years.
Last, but not least by any means, I drove down to Irvine to have a most enjoyable lunch with my friends Jonathan and Beth on Saturday. We had quite a long chat about politics and other forms of legitimized madness, after which I drove home, took my mom out for dinner, and packed my bags.
~Finis~