I don't know if I'm wearying of these projects or just suffering some kind of enui or because it's really summer at this point, my weekends are already very full, but I'm having trouble making the time.
That said, I hope to persevere.
Last week, my old pal Troy invited me to see Morissey at the Hollywood Bowl. Welcome to my birthday project #10. Now, I was never a big Morissey fan, but did like the Smiths and thought it would be fun.
Lord was I right.
After parking at Hollywood and Highland and trudging up Highland with two supermarket bags of wine, salad and deviled eggs (Bristol Farms Deviled Eggs -- do yourself a favor and don't buy them. Feh!), I made it to the Bowl.
First, though, Highland has been under construction for months now and is a total clusterfuck to walk and a hazzard. The city knows the Bowl season is starting. Come on, folks? What the fuck? Fix this street, L.A., or suffer the slings and arrows of a lot of injury lawsuits.
So, I go the Bowl store and buy a corkscrew and a plastic Bowl drinkholder because I'm told you can't bring in bottles for rock concerts and that I could transfer the wine into the plastic-- no problem.
Wrong! Or I got a surly ticket-taker. So, I threw out that wine and that newly bought liquid holder and we moved to our seats, which were midway up. Really great.
Morissey had just come on and he gave an amazing performance. I can see why he is so adored. He jumped and writhed and snaked and and and all over the stage.
It was like he was possessed and the crowd of latinos, asians, gays, aging hipsters and combinations of all of the above were madly in love.
After the concert, Troy and I parted at Hollywood and Highland where he too the subway home downtown and I found my car and found myself in hideous hideous hideous traffic.
My bowl traffic tip: whatever you do, do not take Hollywood or Franklin going east after the bowl (especially after a hipster/latino/gay magnet performance like Morissey's.
You're better off crawling of broken glass through a shallow sea of rubbing alcohol. As Liz Taylor said when asked her advice to newcombers to Hollywood:
Next up on the birthday project will likely be my first Dodgers game of the season, tomorrow.