12 MAR - 13 MAR 2011
It was somewhere close to 9pm when we finally detached ourselves from the customer and immigration road block at LAX and walked out into a brisk evening, our feet now planted on terra firma knowing full well that we had escaped the clutches of a Mexican conspiracy that aimed at keeping us in the country solely to break our will and lighten our peso load. Standing at the cab rank for only a moment or two I was kind of glad that we were heading back home on the morrow. Not for the fact that I didn't enjoy Mexico, far from it, but for the simple fact that Los Angeles as the glitz and glamour town that exists in most of our minds does not equate to the actual reality of the situation. I read a quote in the Alaskan Airlines inflight magazine by American satirist/poet Dorothy Parker regarding her perception of Los Angeles that seemed to be incisively apt, 'Los Angeles was a place of 72 suburbs in search of a city'. Reading that was non too surprising as in my previous three visits to LA I'd never truly been able to get a feel for the place. It's decentralised, detached, somewhat vacant and a little soulless. I'm sure that there are cool places out there, and I'm sure that if you knew the place it would be fun but as an outsider, well it kind of bores me. There's no easy fix for you to find, there's no beating heart and if you need to get anywhere then good luck attempting to do it without a car. I explained my perceptions of Los Angeles to the Russian taxi driver that we inherited for the 40min drive from the airport to the Orbit Hostel on Melrose Avenue. He chuckled at the Dorothy Parker line I quoted to him and said that he agreed with me, then when I pressed him on a few more questions regarding his life in Los Angeles he became strangely ambivalent. Not an uncommon trait for Russians I must say! You know I've never ever heard them speak glowingly of any place or anything unless referring to the 'famous' borscht and blini's of their hometown, even if that hometown may be located somewhere like Yakutsk in North Eastern Siberia. Listening to his accent and his odd take on Americans in general I thought back to a character in a Tom Clancy book that I had read years earlier, Rainbow 6. One of the main protagonists in that book was a Russian cab driver whose sole aim was to attack a government building in NYC with a biohazard agent. It kind of felt for those few moments that it wouldn't take a lot for this disillusioned soul to flip the crazy switch and go all bio-terrorism on our arses! In the end I was just thankful that he got us to our destination.
Early evening LA arrival - bright lights, decentralised city
Settling in at Melgard Public House - Melrose Ave - Los Angeles - USA
Settling in at the Orbit that evening it felt as though we had been away from LA for months. In actual fact it had only been three weeks but it felt like a hell of a long time. Somewhat beaten by our experience the previous day and perhaps a little weary from the full-scale project that we needed to undertake just to make it into LA on this day we headed down the road a few blocks to Melgard Public House for a few quite ales and some decent food. Now this is a place that I can get behind. A comfortable scene without blaring music and a French-Canadian publican who was typically understated but who you knew could outsmart, outwit and out talk you on just about any issue you chose to bring up if he was in the mood to do so. As Jet and I sat at the bar drinking away in quiet reflection of our deeds over the past 3-4 weeks, and as Jet also contemplated whether he could in fact manage to sit at the bar with a virulent strain of Mexican travel bug playing havoc with his bowels, we checked out the first reports of an earthquake that had just taken place in Japan. As you know, breaking news is always kind of sketchy but when I first saw the magnitude reading of the quake, an 8.9!!!, I kind figured immediately that a major catastrophe was now in progress. Bits and pieces of images came in as we were sitting there but the most striking was a live broadcast of one of the several tsunami's that rolled in over the north-east coast of Japan. The 'as-it-happens' telecast was disarming in terms of what you knew it meant. We witnessed in real time the force and power of a natural event that you knew would be taking lives in those very same moments. It seemed to be perversely voyeuristic and confronting all at once. Helicopters were zooming in on people and vehicles trying to outrun the wave but who tragically were getting caught in the onslaught. Essentially we were witnessing the last moments of life for many people...it was fucked.
Melgard Public House - Melrose Ave - Los Angeles - USA
Another favourite on Melrose Ave - The Snake Pit
The Snake Pit - Melrose Ave - Los Angeles - USA
Frichot and I headed back to the Orbit that evening in a strangely sombre mood. I don't recall that we said alot other than Frichot pointing out that he was in quite a hurry to make it back to base camp otherwise he'd breaching the constraints of his Dickies in a most unpleasant manner. I immediately picked up the pace in aid of satisfying both his comfort levels and his dignity.
The next day we were amazingly hangover less! I mean that really does warrant an exclamation mark and all because I can't remember the last point in time on this trip where that hadhappened. Heading out somewhere close to noon we took a bus up to Hollywood and strolled around for a while, just kind of killing time more than anything else. Jet managed to find a store that had a shirt that he really loved but didn't have his size - good news however, there was an outlet at Universal City that might just be able to cater for a man with three weeks of Mexican fiesta lovin' in his belly. Considering that we were also throwing up the idea of catching Battle LA on it's opening day then the idea of heading to Universal to close out our last afternoon on this trip seemed apt.
An All-star showdown on Hollywood Boulevard
On our way to Universal City
Up at Universal Frichot did actually find the shirt that he was looking for, that was the good news. The bad news was our decision to watch Battle LA. It was a shaky-cam fiesta of cheesy lines, indiscriminate and haphazard explosions, a storyline that line that was stolen from the pathetic annals of Independence Day with an 'Oh Captain my captain' moment thrown in to boot that made you feel blatantly embarrased for both yourself and everyone in the audience. at that moment I don't get it though, a concept like this can actually work I think. I watched District 9 just the other day and whilst this isn't a classic film either there was enough in it in terms of themes and concepts to make it both entertaining and stimulating. That good guy v. bad alien garbage in movies such as Battle LA and Independence Day just do my head in. I know what you may be thinking, with Battle LA I probably should have known better but hey, it was our last day and it was the second time that we'd watched a movie on our last day of a holiday thus setting in stone a ritual that we'll obviously look to follow in years to come.
City Loft in Universal City
City of Angels - it's all in the detail
Finishing in the early evening we strolled back down into Universal City and acquired ourselves a few Red Trolley ales at one of the bars on Universal walk. It was a good way to end the day and an ingenious way of getting the bitter taste of Battle LA out of my mouth. As sure as the beers were over and done however we were checking out the 'count down' clock for the V Australia flight back home and realising in our post beverage glow that we needed to make haste.
Some three 'moderately' eventful hours latter, ones that involved several modes of transport ,we were at the V Australia check-in counter ready to jump the flight back home. As we made our way through what felt like the 'striptease' security stop, seriously it's a flurry of belts, shoes, socks, jackets and all other clothing items, we arrived at our check-in gate with time to spare and no immigration hassles. This we hoped was going to be the 'cream cheese' of boarding rituals and thankfully that's the way it ended up.
Now over the past few months Jet for some reason has been bringing up the virtues of Suicidal Tendencies with me more often than I 'use to' mention the virtues of Steve Waugh. Either in passing or more directly he'd ask me 'Have you heard of (such and such) song' or 'Did you know Mike Muir did this or did you know that Mike Muir did that?' - mostly my response to those questions was often 'Mate, I have no clue as to who Mike Muir even is'. So it was with an odd sense of sweet seredipity that when we arrived at the check-in gates that Jet scanned our fellow flight companions and said to me, 'Hey, that guy looks like Mike Muir, I'm sure it is'. Now let me say this, Jet sometimes gets his celebrity sightings wrong and knowing this I simply said, 'Hey, if you think it's him then you should go up and say hello'. As Jet walks off I thought it was a 10-1 shot that it was actually the dude that Jet thought it was but when I saw his face light up I kind of figured out that he hit is mark. Some 14 hours later in Brisbane after a flight that bounced us across the Pacific with 7hours of non-stop turbulence I actually got to meet good 'ole Mike. I was honest with the guy, I just said 'Hey, my friend likes you but I honestly don't really know who you are', his response to that 'Yeah, most days I don't know who I am either!'...I know what you mean Mike, I know what you mean.
Jet with Mike Muir - lead singer of Suicidal Tendencies - Brisbane Airport
This sign has nothing to do with the relative size of appendages
