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Rumor Has It

As reported on the internet...
"Is "Desperate Housewives" star TERI HATCHER making sweet music with "American Idol" host RYAN SEACREST?"

Of course recently she was rumored to be linked with George Clooney for a moment.

According to sources in this household:
"That's like going from Guinness to Pabst Blue Ribbon."

R.I.P. 103?

Completely disgusted yesterday morning when I turned on indie 103.1 to hear some idiots blithering on about nothing and asking myself where the hell is Dicky Barrett and then asking myself if this was a mistake and changing the dial and then changing it back and then giving up because clearly, this told me it was the beginning of the end of indie and so I set out to find what the ef happened to Dicky and I'm sorry I did because the answers suck and we're never going to hear the Replacements or Costello in the AM again, or any stimulating and amusing conversation with stimulating and amusing guests, or free speech regarding political views or anything different than KROQ....

Here are the answers if you are interested.

Surprised it lasted this long but I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop when Henry Rollins, Jonesy and Rob Zombie tell the head honchos to stick it. And if they don't I'll be surprised by that.

The Closing Of Rocky's

A couple of my favorite pix from the closing night at Rocky's. Actually I only took a few, and everyone there should thank me because everyone there was pretty toasted. Lots of hugging and blithering and laughter and no closing of Rocky's should end without a near brawl on Lankershim Boulevard.

Puff Daddy Chuck had shoulder surgery a week ago and scratched his eyeball on Friday but that didn't stop him from sporting a patch or his wife from noticing the resemblance to the Oakland logo that showed prominently at Rocky's (next to the Steeler's but ahead of the Bronco's).

And me and Mr. Miceli - yes, Angelenos, THAT Mr. Miceli, shared a tender moment before he traded hats back with King Louis and before he chugged back his lucky thirteenth clocktail of the day and before he walked home to his Toluca Lake mansion and I to my Toluca Lake one-bedroom.

It's probably not a bad thing for a lot of people that Rocky's has shut down. But they had all the football games and they even allowed me to watch some tennis. They cooked a really great burger and an even better basket of fries and Robbyn, oh Robbyn, where will you be pouring next with that INCREDIBLY heavy hand of yours?
Cheers, Rocky's.
And to all the other late-great bars that have shut down before me.
(Special nod goes to Sloan's and The Firefly.)

A Full Plate And Always Hungry

I swear the only time anybody mentions that they've been reading my blog is when I haven't been writing it.
Instead, I've been:

Working on a sculpture/installation project.
Starting a dog art commission that needs to be done by May.
Applying for membership to Women Painters West.
Running a business that wipes me out and gives me on average four days a month off.
Writing an essay that when finished I may or may not submit to Sit 'n Spin.
Reading the daily newspaper.
Reading Vanity Fair, "Animals in Translation" and Richard Belzer's "UFO's, JFK & Elvis".
Watching the new season of The Sopranos and bitching about American Idol ruining America.
Getting ready to delve into the recently released DVDs of the short-lived tv series ACTION.
Having a wee-bit of March Madness.
And of course the alter ego is slowly but surely making a movie.
And now I'm going to go have a steak at The Steak Joynt and then
Go say goodbye to our neighborhood bar Rocky's and then add to the list -
Find a new place to watch football next season.

A Lovely So-Cal Sunday

Goddam, Venice Beach hasn't changed in twenty-five years.
Beers, broads, bongs,
tattoos, pit-bull puppies, skateboards, skates,
corn-dogs, fish tacos, chorizo, pizza slices,
chainsaw jugglers, impersonators, muscles,
dilapidated boarded up buildings, dudes, drum circles,
spraypaint art, tie-dye, gangsters, lesbians,
tube-socks, five-dollar sunglasses, knock-offs and
t-shirts that say things like "I'm Not Like Other Girls".

DW Production Diary

My Stunt Coordinator came through yesterday. We tried two different locations for the fall in which she holds the camera while tumbling down the side of a hill.
Did four takes. Three takes at one location, one take at the other. The one take, which was the last was the best. She had that many falls in her, and of course the last one, her back pad slipped as she fell on a bush stump and rammed her spine. Nonetheless, she says if there's no blood, no stiches needed, it's a good day. And it was. Her adrenaline was contagious.
Nora T. Wood
March 13, 2006

Rocks, No Salt

I love Casa Vega and yesterday we were able to get there during Happy Hour (2:30 - 5:30) and before the surge of hungry and thirsty hombres start lining up around the building. We were sat at a booth that we often sit at, and immediately noticed that we were going to have to endure being in the direct line of sight of a nasty macho man and his ho, slurping upon their drinks but mostly each other.

Tried to instead eavesdrop on a mature pair of ladies caddy-corner to us. I thought them a hoot at first, talking about Nicole Ritchie's extreme skinniness and her's and Paris's falling out. But then they started talking about "CRASH" and its winning song, "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp". Well, then I just got frustrated because obviously they had their movies mixed up and their facts wrong. Then they discussed the article in the Times from Steve Lopez who whined about Crash's "message" that there is racism in Los Angeles and clearly from his own experiment that there isn't and it was clear that these women were just mimicking someone who sounded like he knew what he was talking about instead of thinking to themselves, is Steve Lopez right, or maybe Crash is just an exaggeration, or maybe, Steve, it's just a MOVIE! I can just imagine that if MAGNOLIA had won any awards if it had been released in a weak year for movies, that Steve Lopez would have gone to the valley and hung out all night at an intersection and reported, there are no frogs falling from the sky onto our Los Angeles streets! What were these filmmakers thinking!

I know opinions are like a-holes, but I wish these women would have had a couple of their own. (opinions, that is) Wish they wouldn't have sounded like they were twenty instead of sixty. Wish Paris would go away. Wish American Idol would go away. Wish the slurpy couple would dine in instead of out. Wish Casa Vega's margaritas weren't so damn good. Those are just my opinions though.

Valley Grille

While walking dogs today in Van Nuys, I met an artist named Jason. I have for weeks, kept these two dogs from peeing on a car cover that has been protecting what was obviously a vintage VW Beetle. Today, as we turned the corner I noticed it was uncovered and it revealed not just an old Bug, but a piece of art. It looked painted from tip to stern, but as I got closer, it was clearly decoupaged. Every inch was covered and Jason soon told me that was indeed true, even the key was part of the piece and was plastered with pieces of vintage movie posters chiseled from abandond buildings.

Jason had just returned from India and was visiting family in LA though he lives in Holland. We shared insights on our current projects which are extremely different yet similar in materials. Whack-a-mole! What were we doing standing in a street in Van Nuys?! Jason said he was cleaning up the Beetle as his friend who owns the gallery DIG in Hollywood may be buying it. I guess that might keep one in Holland and traveling the globe for a while...
I traveled another few blocks, dropped those dogs off and went on to the next one in exotic Studio City.

Mommas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Artists

It Was A Weekend Of Upsets.

Forget the Oscars and Crash "upsetting" Brokeback. The biggest upset was going to have my taxes done. Oh sure I braced myself, but it still doesn't go far when you are told that you owe way more than you could possibly afford. I write off (legitimately) just about everything but groceries. The accountant told me that after this addition here and these subtractions there, that the government basically considers me to have lived off "said $'s" last year (a number too embarassingly low to mention.) I said, in otherwords - poverty level.

And yet they still want money that I can't afford to give them and (really, even after about $20,000 in deductions) is a big f-ing chunk of money. She then tries to soften the blow by telling me that 75% of these taxes I'll be paying is actually going towards my own Social Security. That made me laugh outloud. An oh so brief moment of comic relief.

So was the moment when a potential client told me that, really, you'll love my dog so much you'll want to walk her for free... Though it looks like I won't be meeting that dog, I'm certain it would be true. Like Social Security in 2026

puppy porn

Like The Corners Of My Mind

We were going to meet up at Big Wangs, a relatively new chicken and sports establishment in Hollywood. I inquired to which intersection it was at. He said Cahuenga and Selma. I said Selma, that's the one between Hollywood and Sunset, right? (I'm always getting Selma and Yucca confused.) He said, yeah, ya know that bar there, what's it called, where you guys took the toilet seat? The Spot Light, I say. He says, yeah, that's the northwest corner, Big Wangs is on the southeast. Okay, I say. But what I didn't say was that I think it was the bathroom sink, not the toilet seat, and it was Chris that took it after it broke off from the wall into his hands, but whatever it was so long ago and oh, such proud times I'm glad you remember that story.

Later at Big Wangs I run into George, a Hollywood staple and we talk about the growth of Hollywood and all the great places that have emerged and he said, yeah, remember when the Spot Light was the only place in this area? Yeah, I say, I'm afraid I do.