I found myself near the EDD offices on Crenshaw the other day (don’t ask). While in the area I found a new bank that I’ll be shifting all of my assets to, effective immediately. From the greeters at the front door to the personal booze assistants who guided me through the long-term plans they have for all of my money, I would not hesitate to recommend this bank to anyone. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that an initial investment of $45 yields a considerable amount of Hennessey before investor fees and applicable taxes.

From the bank’s home boozing investment brochure:

The Liquor Bank is one of the city’s largest liquor institutions, serving individual consumers, small businesses and large corporations with a full range of booze, hooch, sauce, juice management and other alcohol and tobacco-related products and services. The company provides unmatched convenience in the city of Los Angeles, serving 11 million alcoholics with 5,700 types of booze, more than 16,000 cans of beer and award-winning online boozing with more than four million active users. The Liquor Bank is the No. 1 Small Business Administration Booze Provider in the city of Los Angeles by the SBABP. The company serves clients in 150 countries and has relationships with 96 percent of the U.S. Fortune 500 companies and 82 percent of the Global Fortune 500. The Liquor Bank (ticker: BOOZ) is listed on the New York Stock Exchange.

Muscle Beach, Santa Monica, 1957

This man is doing the hood ornament pose. Is he feeling cool ocean breezes in places where we don’t ordinarily feel cool ocean breezes?!

Southern California’s obsession with fitness began in the 1930s on Santa Monica’s sunny seashore. According to the legend, out of work actors began gathering there to lift weights while sun tanning and hoping to be discovered by a Hollywood talent scout.

This slide, and many more just like it, was taken by Mr. Sheffield, the drama teacher at San Pedro High School. While showing a slide of him during a slide show he was recognized. A woman screamed out of the audience and said “That’s the drama teacher at San Pedro high School, and I’m the drama teacher there now!” It was a magic moment. So I said “What can you tell us about Mr. Sheffield?” She hesitated for a moment and said “Well, he lived at home with his mother and he never married!”

Here’s to the man feeling cool ocean breezes, Mr. Sheffield and you!

Charles Phoenix,
Los Angeles

Visit Charles’ site, God Bless Americana, or join his Yahoo Group.

You’ve got two more weeks to check out the Spider Pavilion at the Natural History Museum. First, you look at the big guys in the little cages. If you’re lucky, one of the workers will pull a couple of the less dangerous ones out to play with/harass. You’ll be told how dangerous a few of the other ones can be. Those will be the ones that you can’t see, instilling a case of mild paranoia within your bones. Following that you’ll walk into the pavilion itself, a giant caged atrium where a reported 300+ spiders are performing all manner of spideryness above and around you. The museum hopes this exhibit will help alleviate the general public’s fears about spiders. On a personal note, I went in not terribly afraid and left feeling more than a little freaked. I think the high-powered air blowers at the entranceway didn’t do much in the way of shaking that feeling. Thank you, robot air blower. You blew three big spiders off my back.

That said, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Definitely worth the trip. A few more photos: Pavilion, Tarantula Belly, Scorpion, Whiplash.

Bonus Photo
Unidentified film project outside the pavilion. Not cops.

Blogcritics.org reminds us that today is the 2nd anniversary of Elliott Smith’s death in his adopted hometown of L.A. (Still no official ruling on the cause of death by the L.A. Coroner’s office.)

Anyone been by the Sound Solutions memorial recently? Here’s a nice gallery of pics from the days just after his death.

Another small gallery of the famous “Figure 8″ wall here.

For all the expansion of the incredibly bland Hotel Cafe coffeehouse singer-songwriter scene, there is no one around town these days really filling his void. Not that anyone really can.

Just last week, a great batch of unreleased Elliott Smith tunes were floated onto the Web. Many of them are from the last set of tunes he wrote. www.elliottsmithbsides.com provides the current link where you can get them all in one shot.

For more info, check out his official unofficial website.

• George Bush to fuck shit up again, locally, later today. Thanks, G.W. Good thing no one drives the 405. Between 4 and 9 p.m. On a weekday.

From KNAC.com and Chris Impellitteri’s site:

“I am currently writing and recording music with my new Los Angeles based metal band. This will be the first official band I have actually joined. The music is definitely metal; and yes there are lots of Impellitteri shredding solos! However, the difference between my new band and Impellitteri is the fact that I am just the lead guitarist as opposed to the leader of the group. Furthermore, I am excited to be part of this new band to see if we can build something special for the metal community. If all goes well we should have some new music by next summer and the official name of the band.”

• Somewhere in SuBurbank, Gary Marshall is planning a live stage production of “Happy Days”. Let it go already, Gary. Seriously–let it go. “Happy Days” was never really any good, don’t let nostalgia and money make you think otherwise.

• Wal-Mart heiress pays someone to do her homework at USC. Typical Trojan.

• The manager-less Dodgers get busy and announce… renovations to stadium seating. No word on renovations to the lineup that finished the season 71-91.

• Apparently there was something L.A.-based called www.MP3downloadcity.com. It has been shut down. I never heard of it either. But I’m sure Soulseek welcomes its users with open arms.

• Steve Martin to reveal “inevitable loneliness in sprawling Los Angeles” with “Shopgirl.” Great. Just what we needed. Save the snide, patronizing “insights” for the back pages of The New Yorker, Steve-o. We know who we are and don’t need you telling us.

• Ryan Seacrest: WeHo’s “Queen for a Day” this Halloween. [I don't think so--Ed.]

• Panda Express to donate bicycles, helmets, orange chicken, broccoli beef to area students.

• Tut is still here?

Disclaimer: While the people in this story are imaginary, the places are very real. All three offer some form of escape. I encourage you to visit each establishment just as soon as your busy Angeleno schedule allows.

You are visiting your aunt and uncle in Losanjealous for the winter. The weather is unbelievable! The surf is up and the girls are out. If only the kids back home could see you now. Life couldn’t be better! But one day, clouds roll in. The temperature drops and the sky looks suddenly menacing. A few raindrops hit your surfboard. Before you know it, the rain’s coming down in torrents. Shucks! Just your luck! Last year, the rainy season lasted nearly five months. Before it was all over you’d read more Homer, Proust and Shakespeare than most literature professors read in a lifetime, and you’d watched more unrated Andrew Stevens movies with your uncle than most adolescents watch in two lifetimes. One day in a fit of manic cabin fever you suddenly carved two fingers straight off your left hand with a paring knife. You aren’t about to sit through that much rain again!

The next morning you set out, determined to take charge of your situation. If it’s going to rain, you’re determined to hole up in a very dark, warm place, as sloshed as humanly possible, listening to slack-key guitar and ruminating with big-bellied men in hawaiian shirts about balmy tropical breezes and chattery monkeys. Damn it you’re going to get your tiki on, but proper.

You begin haunting the local tiki watering holes, striking up idle conversations with crusty ‘Don the Beachcomber’ holdouts at Duke’s, Tiki Ti and Trader Vic’s. At each location you run across a mysterious man with a peeling sunburn and a dark combover. “A tiki fan. I see we’re looking for the same thing, my friend,” he purrs one evening. You can barely hear his oiled voice over the crackled ukelele strains emitting from the hi-fi. “Oceanic Arts is where you should begin. Care to split a cab?”

The man looks shifty as all get out, but you’ve had two flaming zombies. You agree to split the cost of a cab to Whittier.

…continue reading on page 49…

After 43 years Movieland Wax Museum announced it will be closing at the end of the month. What drove the museum out of business?

• Maintenance costs of picking wax from museum carpets out of control
• Visitors would rather spend $15 admission on Medieval Times royalty package upgrade
• High budget Sister Act movie set inexplicably failed to draw crowds after 1992
• Management investing in more profitable Movieland Brazilian Wax Salon
• Tourists finally began figuring out Buena Park is not actually Movieland
• Authorities too close to discovering why the figures look so real
• Wax figures of antiquated celebrities simply uninteresting

Why else is Movieland Wax Museum closing?

#16: the Starbucks at the Torrance Crossroads

Before I launch feet-first into a review that should dazzle and bewilder all my readers and fans, I need to address some issues from a few people who—while they may be readers—are definitely not fans. Unless you mean ceiling fans, because they seek to blow their hot convective current of opinion on my articles from above. (Nice one DeMarco. Thanks DeMarco.) These self-appointed geographammarians have pointed out that the picture accompanying the column“isn’t a picture of LA. If you’re going to write a column called Bill DeMarco’s LA then why are you using a [expletive] picture of New York?”

Whooooooooa! Hope nobody had a seizure. Christ. I’m a passionate guy and sometimes my lust for perfectly roasted beans gets in the way of what are called facts. That said—and if my guy in the arts department was able to put down his Red Bull and bourbon for two seconds—you logic-hounds will find that the new picture is indeed Los Angeles. Can we get on with our lives? (As long as I’m venting you know what phrase I can’t stand? “At the behest of”)

Where was I? Right. Torrance. That’s spelled with a “T” and that rhymes with “B” and that stands for “Beans.” Right here in Torrance city. But the difference is there’s going to be trouble if I DON’T get any coffee right? That’s why it’s different from pool. I’m the coffee man. Not the music man. Fortunately this Starbucks nestled deep in the mesa-style Torrance Crossroads makes some of the finest coffee south-west of Sepulveda Boulevard. The espresso hits you like a scorching poker chip and their seasonal pumpkin latte shows no signs of novelty affectation. (I might recommend that they give the drink a more memorable name like ‘Pumpin’ Pumpkin’)

And I begin to wonder about the crossroads, where they used to hang thieves, queens, and in-betweens. Where a crazy old kraut found the devil himself and asked him for the hand of a lady. Me? I’ve had as many ladies as lattes so if I gamble with Old Scratch, it’ll be penny bets. I’d look him in that red ol’ eye of his and say, I’ve had this notion in the back of my head and I wonder if you’d oblige. I take out my fiddle, tighten my bow, put it to my chin and ask him:

“Pimpin’ Pumpkin. Do you think it’s viable?”

Lookie here! A new kid wants in at our watering hole, so vilely despised by office fraus that we refer it exclusively as “the place” or risk sexual harassment.

We’re going to take this one scriptless. Let’s see how many of these waitresses remember us from last time.

In we go. It’s a little like a barnyard scene with the cocks crowing and the floppy uttered cows mooing and some of the pigs scurrying for the comfort of their filth. I enjoy it for what it is. I intend to have these girls service drinks on my yacht when I get around to buying one. Ah, the center table. Fabulous. The regular girl behind the bar has a nice smile. She blew us off but three months ago when we encountered her in the wild of the nearby parking garage. (Burbank is a compact little place.) But something is different. Yes, yes… she has reasoned it out. We’re those guys. Now bend over and let’s see ‘em. That’s right. We’re those guys.

But what is this! Not one more familiar face! Out of twenty-five, only three we know! (And we know they’re all taken.) My Sly SAGman (like an Ombudsman) mentions that they need to put up posters on the wall with all the relevant info: Actress, Dancer, Singer, Model, Available, Silicone or Saline, etc. The waitress is chipper with agreemency! She dazzles us with a new trick. She will memorize our order without writing it down. Okay. I’ll have the tube sock, er, steak, and lettuce and onions and… no, no I want a hot dog with chili and onions and muskrat juice and your phone number… wait… come back to me…

Two more check in. They bend low in obeisance and tell us about gigs fallen through at PAX and Disney. Hmmm. It’s tough. It’s a garsh-darn tough world out there. You need someone who’s been to the trenches on a horse with no name and a knowledge of the universe in which we reside. I am such a man. Your hand. Ah. Soft. You have a long love line. Yes, I excel at palmistry. What is this! Unexpected wealth at forty-eight! We must be married immediately!

No! To the mystery of this accused place! What happened? Is there another rival meat blimp emporium swaddling up the honeys for closed clientele? A tittie bar with a lunchtime buffet? Maybe we should go there.

Whelp.

We inquire of our Hooters mole when the rapture was. Most of these pinched little numbers are auditioning or attending university. I think she says one of our notables from last time is going for her Masters in Boob Administration (I have a minor in that discipline), but I have a hearing problem.

The others… well, screw ‘em. I like turnover. She brings us all our vittles and me, a glass of water with a nice slice of lemon. Thanks for playing. Good night, and in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good morning, and good day.

While Hollywood is up in arms about getting their cut, it seems that with all the hubbub about the new video capable iPod, Apple forgot to leave out how you can play your own store-bought DVDs on your iPod. The nice kid at The Grove wasn’t too aware himself about this possibility. (No, they are not in stock yet.) But surely there is no problem with ripping DVDs you own, right? Remember the “Rip. Mix. Burn.” mantra, Steve? After a bit of trolling, here’s the handy guide that is making the rounds. All credit to the author. Also, stay tuned for TV show sharing in iPod video format. $2 a show for some free-broadcast commercial-sponsored ABC crap, my ass.

Laker center Chris Mihm has perhaps done irreparable damage to his on the court cred by signing an exclusive shoe endorsement deal with … wait for it … Pony. Damn. Pony? They still around? Could he be even more square than before? Apparently so. Even if you can’t get your own shoe model with them, you got to go with one of the Big 3. You got to.

Pony had their chance to break through. Go back to 1988. In the 1988 All Star Slam Dunk contest, while all eyes were on the then-brand-new now-classic white 3/4-top Jordans, Spud Webb was sporting Pony kicks. And they were the damn LOWCUT style (see pic). 5’7″ and he’s throwing down crazy two-handed jams.
Pony failed to capitalize on this buzz and they have been laggers in the marketplace ever since. And don’t even get me started on BROOKS. ‘Nique rocked the sick hi-top Brooks, threw down that windmill action, but lost to MJ in the finals with those 2 immortal 50 point dunks. Brooks and ‘Nique were not heard from again. But Spud stayed around for a while. Too bad Pony didn’t.

At the end of his career, Kareem was endorsing LA GEAR kicks. These were some nasty white lowtops with gold and purple accents. Like the kind seniors put on to powerwalk through malls. The all-time NBA scoring champ deserved better, but he never cared about his image really. So Mihm better not be getting any image advice from Coach Captain. Just sky hook lessons. Maybe some goggle recommendations.

Check out this sweet book on the key years in the history of old school kicks.

Finally found the urban cornfield last night. The durn* thing’s been playing hide-and-seek for weeks now. As you can see from this 100% authentic photo, I ran into all manner of strange out in the field… folks peeking their heads out… peering about every which way… milling about aimlessly… folks jamming like mad at the drum circle. Lot of corn, lot of folks. More photos below.

*something about a cornfield mandates I use words like ‘durn’

Photos
The corn
This is also…the corn
Again, corn.
Corn, with hair. Can you spot the hair?
Guess who? Corn! And LA.

Important Link
Not a cornfield

Visit our concert calendar for a full list of shows, links to buy tickets and our picks.

***Recommended Show of the Week***
Gang of Four @ Avalon
It seems like every band who was heavily influenced by Gang of Four is cashing in. A Franz Ferdinand song is featured in a Sony commercial, Bloc Party is in a Target ad and even Radio 4 got paid by Mitsubishi. See the original gangstas at the Avalon on Thursday or roll the dice and fight your way through INXS reality TV fans at the grand opening of the Hollywood and Highland Virgin Megastore Monday.

MONDAY
Gang of Four, Dredg, INXS @ Virgin Megastore Hollywood (free)
Architecture in Helsinki @ UCLA Westood Plaza (free)
Busta Rhymes @ House of Blues

TUESDAY
Iron and Wine, Calexico @ Wiltern
Black Crowes @ Henry Fonda
Matt Costa @ Troubadour
Briefs @ Amoeba (free)
Dengue Fever @ Sea Level Records

WEDNESDAY
Black Crowes @ Henry Fonda
Medeski, Martin and Wood @ Avalon
Briefs @ Troubadour
Kinky @ Knitting Factory

THURSDAY
Gang of Four @ Avalon
Hold Steady, Constantines @ Knitting Factory
Go! Team, Smoosh @ El Rey
Gossip @ Troubadour
David Garza @ Largo
Hold Steady, Constantines @ UCLA (7 pm–free–student ID req’d)
Calla @ Echo

FRIDAY
Black Crowes @ Henry Fonda
Sons and Daughters, Blood Arm @ Spaceland
Lyrics Born, Pigeon John @ Knitting Factory
Gang of Four @ House of Blues Anaheim
Willy Mason @ Tangier

SATURDAY
Foo Fighters, Weezer, Hot Hot Heat @ Long Beach Arena
Daniel Lanois, Tortoise @ Avalon
Violent Femmes @ Santa Anita Racetrack
Gogol Bordello @ Troubadour
Meteors @ Knitting Factory
Nada Surf @ El Rey
Black Crowes @ Henry Fonda
Bright Eyes @ Santa Barbara Bowl

SUNDAY
Foo Fighters, Weezer, Hot Hot Heat @ Long Beach Arena
Heavy Trash f/Jon Spencer @ Knitting Factory
Alex Cuba Band @ Amoeba (free)
Love as Laughter, Appleseed Cast @ Echo
Black Crowes @ Henry Fonda

thanks for tips, Monica and FCC!

Saturday, 1240pm. The phone buzzed my leg. The txtmsg read ‘tyme 4 koffea’ and I readily agreed. I walked straight out of the room, pausing to grab a volume of Jung’s greatest hits.

I’m going to go against losanjealous company policy here and recommend a coffee shop that is not one of the top 50 Starbucks. Sure sure, it may cost me my job. We’ve been trying to win that account for half a year now. The siren of the sea awards its lucrative online banner business to only a handful of smart-assed blogs per year, a scant few and why not this one… hell, why not, that’s what we said. We went so far as to bring in some new writers speficially tailored to the task. Pros. Ringers. Damn fine writers if I do say so and yet that siren continues to play coy. Toys with us. Makes us guess.

Forget all that. When I really want to unwind with a coffee, I make straight for the motherland… Koreatown. Berendo. I speak English here. Sometimes they do too. Koffea it is. I find a meter. Park. Walk through the maze of couches, ramps, cubbyholes and whatnot and set up shop on the patio. Nothing can top sitting there ordering up cheesecake after cheesecake, koffea after koffea, summoning the waitron at my every whim and fancy with the magic doorbell taped to my table.

Photos
[chezcake]
[le patio grand]

 
Koffea
(213) 427-1441
610 S Berendo St

Does anyone know what is going on up there, up the road, right now? There’s long lines of cars backed up before that isosceles intersection up at Wilshire and Santa Monica and everyone is just barely moving, like a couple of car lengths at a time. Backed way up to the condo corridor on Wilshire. Then, when you get up there finally, only a few cars make the left turn onto Santa Monica before it goes red. Just right now, Friday at 2:22 p.m. Must be something going on up there. Anyone know what’s going on up there? Let us know at: wassup@losanjealous.com

Here is the intersection where there must be something happening right now:

UPDATE: We got a report at 3:02 p.m. from another part of town that the same thing appears to be going on at the Sunset and Highland intersection. Apparently the left hand turn at Hollywood High is blocked for some reason and only a car or two makes it on the green arrow.

UPDATE #2: Another blogger writes in:

I just left El Cholo and I am at Olympic and Western in K-Town and the same thing is happening. (I am sending this from my Treo.) Cars are backed way up on Western, going north, moving real slow. I rolled down my window to see what was going on, but all I could see were cars all the way to Wilshire.