The Car Thing, Part I: Driving

It's not an understatement to say that you can spend more than a third of any given day in LA just getting from one place to another. As has often been said, people here really do live in their cars, to some degree. They choose their peronal islands carefully—probably more carefully than anywhere else—because one's vehicle is such an extension of oneself here.

Most aparment/house rental ads mention on- or off-street parking way up top—even though parking is not an issue in most LA neighborhoods—because having your own personal spot is another status thing, like having a balcony in New York. A protected spot is especially important, despite the lack of snow (and therefore the lack of salt which might rust a car out...the most the weather here can hurt your car is to rain on it for a few hours). And people wash their cars all the time. Obsessively. Like, weekly. In fact, as my friend Alan pointed out to me a couple of months ago (hi, Alan!), Sheryl Crow's breakout song All I Wanna Do Is Have Some Fun contained a set of lyrics about this phenomenon:

We are drinking beer at noon on Tuesday
In a bar that faces a giant car wash
The good people of the world are washing their cars
On their lunch break, hosing and scrubbing
As best they can in skirts in suits
They drive their shiny Datsuns and Buicks
Back to the phone company, the record store too...

So, yeah, LA people are into their cars.

You might think that such an auto-centric culture would be a nightmare to actually drive in.

You'd be mistaken.

Don't get me wrong: driving here can really suck sometimes, and traffic is always a hot topic in the news.

But for a group of people who spend so much time in their cars, LA drivers are surprisingly courteous. Perhaps it's because they spend so much time in their cars. They don't want the hassle. There's no hurry. They know that on one day getting from point A to point B can take 10 minutes, and the following day at the exact same time, it can take 25. And they are resigned to that. In fact, because they're in (on?) their own personal island, they might even embrace the extra time a little sometimes.

So unlike NYC, where it's all urgent, and driving is like a big video game in which the goal is to shoot the gap between those two taxis a block ahead of you while ignoring anything as ridiculous as lane markings, LA has a California-mellow vibe to it.

Things Angelino drivers regularly do and don't do:

• They don't block the box at congested intersections


• If you're trying to make a left turn across a backed-up row of idling traffic, they leave a space for you to do so. In fact, even if no one is waiting to do so, idlers in a line of cars will often leave a space in front of strip mall/supermarket driveways In case someone comes along who might want to make that turn. In some areas, the words "Keep Clear" are painted on the street to encourage this. Drivers actually heed the words


• If you're trying to leave a driveway to make a right turn, and traffic is whizzing by and you've kind of got an obstructed view, and you're afraid to pull out for fear of getting mashed, approaching LA drivers who see you will actually brake suddenly, stop, and wave you in to take a place in front of them. I'm not kidding; this happens to me practically every day


• If someone is parallel parking and blocking traffic from getting further down the street, no one honks; they'll patiently wait for the person to finish, even if that person is a bad parker and takes five minutes of pulling in and out and repositioning to complete the job


• Merging onto a busy highway? Most Angelinos will slow down and let you get into the flow of traffic in front of them


• If someone is not turning right on red, despite the fact that they're allowed to, no one honks at them to urge them to do so; they just wait


• At 4-way STOP intersections, there's generally a contest to see who can go last. Everyone waves everyone else through. Usually there are a lot of smiles and gracious nods of heads in these situations.


• No honking if you spaced out for a moment and didn't notice the light had changed. It'll be a good ten seconds before someone taps their horn briefly. In the words of a comedienne (I forget who, maybe Ellen DeGeneres?) whom I heard years ago, it's the horn equivalent of saying "Ahem" instead of "WAKE UP YOU STUPID JACKASS!". When in New York, I sometimes beep my horn in the latter way. Out here, I've become a throat-clearer.

There are surely more examples, but you get my point.

The one exception to the whole "mellow driving" thing is Sundays. I guess maybe Sunday is "go see your relatives in Whittier day" or something, because starting about 10:30am, every major road in town is clogged with big cars full of people. And on these days, all the courtesies get thrown out the window, and driving becomes a ferocious, competitive blood sport.

Makes me homesick.

Midnight Oil

I know, I know, I've disappeared again.

It's just that once the taxes were done, I realized I had a few other projects backed up on my desk.

I have about 5 posts in my head about LA that are dying to be written, and I plan to get to them this week.

But in the meantime, I've been creating a website designed to attract tenants to our upstate property, Woodland Hill.

Comments and feedback are welcome and encouraged. :)

Monologue

Okay, made it with ten minutes to spare....I've done all my homework, I'm ready to go, just throw it all away and relax and have fun now....looks like it's going to be a while before they call any of us in....keep the energy up.....should I look over the lines again?....yeah, but don't obsess about it, don't want to overplan.....okay, yeah, I know these lines, just need to trust that it's all there....that guy is dressed exactly like me....good thing I'm going in before him.....I feel good....I feel great....this is totally mine for the taking......just need to RELAX and HAVE FUN....that's the name of the game, have fun, and remember today is a day I get to "play"......okay, I've been sitting too long, I'm feeling the energy go......my feet are a little numb, gotta stomp that out...(stomp! stomp!)...okay that's better, I feel a little more grounded now......I feel very relaxed....I feel a little too relaxed.....I could use a little of that adrenaline now.....I need to pee...should I pee?...having the extra energy from needing to pee might help me out.....on the other hand, it could be another ten minutes before I go in there.....fuck it, I'm going to hit the john..... (pees).... yeah, glad I did that, because there is NO SIGN of this woman....that dude over there is totally stressing....dude, you've got to breathe, you look terrified. and next time, you might not want to wear blue jeans you look a little too casual to me, but hey, that's just me.....it would be funny if I got this...I mean, who'd imagine my first breakout movie role would be in a Martin Lawrence film?....it would be like when my mom did that Tim Allen movie For Richer, For Poorer a few years ago....what?...oh we're going! that was sudden.....do I know this? yes, I know it! it'll all be there.....just relax and have fun HAVE FUN! HAVE FUN, GODDAMNIT!!

Haiku Here As Well

I can blog again.
Finally got the taxes done!
They took forever.

Flora

Feed me Seymour!

I've been wading through our taxes so, apologies for the intermittent posts.

One thing I've been really impressed/stunned by in LA is the difference in plant life out here vs. the east coast. Of course, that's to be expected in an area as temperate as this. But it's weird that the smog-filled air here sometimes smells cleaner than the air in New York, despite the fact that LA annually ranks among the worst US cities (and always worse than NY) on "most polluted" lists.

Here are some observations:

• Eucalyptus, one of my favorite plants, is everywhere. I think that's one reason the air seems so clean to me. Go to any of the parks, take a deep breath of air, and you get that cool, almost menthol-y sensation. The trees are so prevalent in the forested areas of LA (of which there are surprisingly many), I kind of expect to see pandas in them
  
  


• Rosemary and Lavender grow like weeds. Creeping rosemary is often used in borders and on walls. Lavender is also ubiquitous, which means there's a lot of purple in the landscape, which I like 'cause it's my favorite color
  
  



they're often found side by side



• Citrus grows in people's yards in a lot of places. Particularly lemon trees
  
  



the orange things on the right are lemons;
the yellow things on the left are limes...for real



• Palm trees, of course
  
  


• There's a tree that grows commonly in the canyons that looks like it actually aspires to be one of those fake cell-phone towers that looks like a tree
  
  


• Remember in Superman II when Superman takes Lois on a date to the Fortress of Solitude and then flies halfway around the world to get her some exotic flowers? I always thought those flowers were the coolest and very rare. Until I saw them in the gardens outside every run-down apartment complex in town. It's like they're all trying to say, "Yeah our building looks like crap, but look at our exotic Superman flowers!"
  
  Seriously, though, can anyone identify what these things are?
  
  

_____
The latest on fitness: 4-hour hikes Thursday and Sunday; shooting for a run this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I'm easing back into a groove....

Trek

This will be a post about the other side of Los Angeles.

Or, better yet, how about the other side of Hollywood?

Or, better still, how about the other side of the Hollywood sign?


Yeah, I know, that was an incredibly lame intro. Cut me some slack, 'k?

I set out today to make what I estimated to be a 2½-hour hike into Griffith Park. I wound up hiking for over 4 hours. Partly because I was enjoying myself, and partly because it took me that long to get even close to where I'd parked my car. (In the end, I called a friend and hitched a ride for the last half mile, because it was well after sunset, and I was afraid my car would be towed.)

I'm pretty damn tuckered out, so I'll expound in future posts: on Griffith Park, on Hollywood land, and on the status of my calves.

But overall it was an amazing day.

The sign looms over town, serving as a navigational aid
(it's always north), and a reminder of LA's colorful past


Road to nowhere


In the valley, someone has created a small monument;
perhaps an offering to the movie gods?

Co-Star Crapshoot

I had my first audition of 2007 today. For a co-star on a hit show. Against my better judgement. It went fine, we'll see, blah blah blah.

I say "against my better judgement" because I am now well tuned-in to the caste system of television roles. And I know that auditioning for a co-star role at this point, even on a hit show, probably doesn't help me and may, in fact, be a detriment to what I'm trying to do here.

Let me explain.

Most people first work on TV by doing extra work and/or co-stars. Extra work is wandering around in the back of a scene to create atmosphere. It involves blending in and being unrecognizable. Extras are treated like second class citizens on a set. They are herded like cattle. There are usually several signs saying "extras holding area" which is a nice way of saying that day's cattle pen. There are more signs warning extras not to eat the food at Kraft Services (Kraft Services="catering table", and please don't ask me where the name comes from...sometime I'll write about the "honey wagon" and being in a "triple-banger" and then the fur will really fly on this blog). Extras are expected to show up on time, bring their own clothes (not too bright or colorful!), cross through the scene when directed, hit their marks, get the hell out of the way, and never call attention to themselves. It's a pretty unfulfilling way to spend a day, although it does count towards benefits.

Then there's co-star roles. Co-star roles actually involve lines. Yup, you get to speak! So it's certainly a step up from extra work. Actually, most of the non-recurring characters you see on TV are co-star roles. A co-star part is anything from one line to several lines to even a few scenes. The vast majority of them, however, are three to five lines of plot advancement. ("Well, her neck is fine, but I noticed some old bruises on her back. It looks like she may have been in an abusive relationship." Gee, thanks Dr. Exposition!) Co-stars are expected to show up on time, wear sometimes ill-fitting clothes from the costume shop, hit their marks, advance the plot, and then get the hell out of the way.

The next level up from co-star is guest star. Guest star roles are the ones you see on TV that are major players in the show: the defense attorney, the murder suspect, etc. The director actually talks to guest star actors (the extras and co-stars only get to deal with the First A.D.), and involves them in the show. To be a guest star is to have arrived, to some degree. It actually requires making some choices and, you know, acting. (The only level above guest star is series regular, and that's a whole different ballgame.)

For my last year or two in NYC, I had graduated out of the ranks of co-star roles into guest star roles (don't ask me, by the way, why co-star is hyphenated, and guest star isn't; it's just another burden the co-star must shoulder). This is important, because if you do too many co-stars , casting directors feel you can't do more than that (likewise, you have to avoid doing too much extra work). And once you start doing guest stars, you really shouldn't turn back.

This prejudice is much sharper and far more overt in LA. Out here, they practically hold it against you if you've done any co-stars. Because the darlings of the TV industry are the actors (usually gorgeous, usually young), who just started working in guest stars from the get-go. Why can't we all be as brilliant as these wunderkinden?

You see where this is going. My agent and manager have strongly pushed me as a "guest star only" kinda guy out here. It's important to present yourself as "belonging" at a certain level. My last three roles have been substantial, juicy guest stars—they have demonstrated my range at that level. That's what we have to shoot for. Otherwise, particularly when dealing with casting directors unfamiliar with his work, a forty-year-old character actor is only going to toil in obscurity on the lower rungs.

Which brings me to today.

Today I was requested kind of last-minute by casting directors I met in the fall to be seen for a co-star role on a hit show. Normally, we'd say "thanks, he'd love to do this show, but in a more substantial role," and wait to see what else came up later in the season (for most shows in LA, once you've worked on it, you're done....you can't repeat as a different character).

But this particular show has its scripts shrouded in secrecy, and although the part was only three lines, there were possibilities here: often this show has people read for one scene then they do three during the shoot; sometimes co-stars on this show become recurring co-stars. And things have been quiet for me thus far in '07.

So we all agreed I should go in on the hopes the role might actually be something juicier than imagined, and the casting directors, who knew my work and had complimented my reel, might want someone with some decent chops to pull it off.

Wrong.

I got to the audition and there were five or six other guys there who ran the gamut from 25-year old bald black guy in fatigues, to 30-year old guy in motorcycle outfit, to me (today reading as about 35 and kind of rural), to forty-ish guy who looked like a professor—all reading for the same role!

This was a case of them not really knowing what they want. This was a case of a role that probably got written into the script yesterday. And this was, most definitely, a case of a character who is going to show up, advance the plot, and get the hell out of the way.

Roles like this are a crapshoot (hence the post title above). When you audition for them, you're told repeatedly, "throw it all away"; "do it with less feeling"; "faster than that"; "say every line like you don't really care what you're saying". It's an exercise in making yourself as unnoticeable as possible, while advancing the crucial plot line. For the most part, unless someone's having a bad day, everyone who comes in will do a decent job. And these auditions are a bummer because you know that everyone will give the same, slick, understated read, and it really will come down to whether my slightly tousled hair and plaid shirt trump the other guy's two-day growth and eurosport fleece.

And, not to whine about it, but I had kind of moved past that. It's good to get out and be seen, and to flex the audition muscles again, but there's nothing that makes you feel less like an actor than going in to play Officer Plotadvance. A role that I won't even put on my résumé, because it will make other LA casting directors think they can have me for cheap.

I still hope I book it though.

Back From NYC

Don't Give Up On Us, Baby

I think I'm finally close to done with the cold, although I still have a lot of congestion. But it seems to be fading slowly.

I'll probably be offline for the next few days, as I am jetting back to NYC for the weekend. I may or may not post while I'm there, but will most certainly do so when I get back.

Upcoming will be some views on non-actor wannabes, the gentility of LA drivers (for real!), and why valet parking is like gas pumping in New Jersey.

Stay tuned. :)