Categories
Blather Current Events In Quest Of

The Happy Hour, Oscars and Other Bullet Points

Tarantino at the Oscars
Quentin Tarentino at the 2010 Oscars. Photo copyright 2010 by Donna Schwartz Mills

I have not been writing much. I blame tax season: it is just one more big task I have to juggle between all the other big tasks on my to-do list. I could handle any one — or maybe two — and do them well. If only I could focus on one at a time.

These days, my biggest goal in life is to pare that list down to something I can reasonably manage.

In the meantime, I flit from one project to the next; never quite finishing and never quite getting it right. At least, that is how I feel.

Tarantino at the Oscars
Quentin Tarentino at the 2010 Oscars. Photo copyright 2010 by Donna Schwartz Mills

The Happy Hour

There have been some constants: Over on our InQuestOf site, my sister and I have been playing with Google Hangouts. We call it our Monday night Happy Hour, because we go on at 5:00 PM and pour ourselves some cocktails or wine.

It’s very much what we would be doing if we  lived in the same town: hanging out in our kitchen and dishing about what’s on our minds.

Last night, we talked Oscars. Neither my sister nor I were all that offended by Seth MacFarlane’s performance — not as much as my friends. I can’t help but approach it from the viewpoint of a refugee from the TV writers room (as an assistant, never a writer). I understand the pressures of writing a joke, how hit and miss it is — and how one that kills with the dudes in the room doesn’t land with the female taking notes (which leads the dudes to conclude that she has no sense of humor).

I also remember how it was to work for immensely talented guys who were indulged by management despite engaging in immature, inappropriate behavior. Hollywood is a place where people with talent never have to grow up — as long as they are earning the studios money. I’m pretty sure that describes MacFarlane, who became TV’s youngest executive producer at the ripe old age of 24.

As for my sister: I think her views are colored by the fact that MacFarlane reminds her of her son. Me too, for that matter.

And then there was that awful misfired “joke” about adorable Quvenzhane Wallis, tweeted out by an Onion staffer.  The word that person used is not one that should be applied to anyone, and even more offensive when used to describe a little girl. It is not a word any CEO would want to find in an official company Twitter stream, no matter the business. I was pleased to see the Onion apologize and promise to discipline the staffer. Without knowing who the person is, I stop short of advocating he or she be fired. Again, I think my experience working with comedy writers colors my reaction. Nine out of ten jokes fail — even those written by very funny and talented people. Putting them out live on Twitter is a high wire act. I want to believe that the person who used that word suffered from a brain fart. And I want to believe that the person has now learned that the word in question is NEVER OK, and if given a second chance, would not repeat the mistake.

Then again, if this is someone who persists in applying that word to women and little girls, they should fire his or her ass.

The sign is still on my lawn.
The sign is still on my lawn.

MOMocrats

There’s a municipal primary election next week, and I’ve been trying to finish a post about the LA Mayor’s race. Yes, I am supporting candidate Eric Garcetti, as you can see from the lawn sign in our front yard. This is a first for us! We live in a conservative neighborhood, and my husband has always been afraid that displaying my political views to the world around us will make us a target of vandals. The sign has been up for two weeks, and the only damage it has suffered has been from the birds who like to perch on it.

I hope to get to that post today.

In the meantime, I still produce and host our weekly podcast each Wednesday, which can be streamed at BlogTalkRadio here or on Stitcher or downloaded from iTunes here. Tomorrow we are featuring Lee Fournier-Reyes of CoupleDumb.com, who will talk about her visit to Congress earlier this month on behalf of the Shot@Life campaign, , which is working towards eradicating deadly diseases throughout the world via childhood vaccinations. I am also trying to get a MOMocrats newsletter out before the podcast airs tomorrow.

Additionally, I am also still co-curating the MOMocrats Facebook page daily, as well as keeping our SheVotes Tumblr updated (although not as often as I did during the Presidential election — another task that needs more of my attention).

Engender Media Group

Earlier this month, Cynthia Liu and I updated the website for our little social media agency. I think it’s starting to look nice — a good thing, as this kind of web work is really, really time consuming.

Other Stuff

Last week, I took on a brief VA assignment for my friend, Kim Moldofsky, who holds a monthly Twitter party on STEM education. It was one of those rare jobs where I got to learn something new and fascinating while I worked.

For the last few years, I’ve toyed with the idea of training for a 5K (as a walker! Please! I am not crazy). One obstacle has been the state of my feet, which suffered from twenty years of wearing five-inch heels. The result is a collection of calluses and corns and a tendency to blister; I cannot wear dress shoes for more than about ten minutes before the pain becomes insufferable. This is why you usually see me either barefoot or in cushion-y Skechers — but even those start to hurt after I’ve walked about a mile.

A friend who is a runner suggested getting fitted at the shop where she buys her shoes, and last week I took her up on that. She drove me to FleetFeet in Encino, where I met a nice salesperson who measured my sad little feet every which way and then made me walk so she could observe my gait. In addition to the corns, I appear to be compensating for last year’s broken toe, which now also flares up with arthritic pain in cold weather. This goes rather well with the arthritis I now feel in my knees.

Ech. Nothing says “I’m getting old” like complaining about your arthritic knees. Now that I have, I’ll shut up about it.

Anyway — I walked out of there with a new pair of grey Nikes plus inserts to counteract the problems with my gait. I also purchased three pairs of expensive, cushioned socks that promise to reduce the threat of blisters (“Cotton retains moisture,” I was told and these won’t).

So now that I have no excuse, I’ve begun taking a mid-morning break to walk. Only about a mile to begin with and will work my way up. That has to be a good thing, right?

 

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Food and Drink SoCal Life

An Evening at LA Live

LA Live at Night
Photo shot during the holidays at LA Live. Copyright 2012 Donna Schwartz Mills
Photo shot during the holidays at LA Live. Copyright 2012 Donna Schwartz Mills
Photo shot during the holidays at LA Live. Copyright 2012 Donna Schwartz Mills

The milestones continue for my baby girl:

  • She can now drive herself to and from school (when I’m feeling benevolent about letting her use my car).
  • She’ll be taking the SAT in a couple of weeks.
  • And last night, she attended her first concert.

“It’s not my first concert,” she corrected me last night.

That’s true. A couple of years ago, she and her cousin caught a band at a club all the way in Upland, thanks to the generosity of her dad and uncle, who accompanied them. And several years ago, she and that same cousin saw The Cheetah Girls at Universal.

But Ed Sheeran last night was her first time seeing a legitimate musician perform in a large venue — without parental chaperones. True, she and her friend had to depend on us to get to the Nokia Theatre (her provisional drivers license does not allow her to take underage passengers). But we bid her goodbye at the end of the line waiting to get in to the theater and for the next four hours, they were on their own.

And so were we.

We have been Megan’s parents for nearly 17 years, and “date nights” have become an increasingly rare occurrence for us. This has less to do with her than the stress and pressure of the bad economy. My husband comes home too tired to go out, and with college looming just a couple of years away, we tend to talk ourselves out of activities that cost a lot of money. This concert forced us to get out and try to have a good time.

I was determined to prove we were up to the challenge, even though we are kind of rusty at it. The Nokia Theatre and the complex that has grown around it have been city attractions for over five years, but we had never spent an evening there together. For longtime residents of Los Angeles, it’s a little bit of a shock to see LA Live in all its neon glory.

“It’s like our own Times Square,” my husband marveled.

A performer on stilts beckons guests into the Moroccan-influenced lobby of the Figueroa Hotel. Copyright 2012 Donna Schwartz Mills
A performer on stilts beckons guests into the Moroccan-influenced lobby of the Figueroa Hotel. Copyright 2012 Donna Schwartz Mills

And with a concert about to begin, the place was packed. Any concerns I had about the concert were filed away when I noticed that the crowd consisted mainly of  teenage girls (and the parents who brought them).  Satisfied that this would not be a rowdy show with rampant drugs and underage drinking, we bid the girls goodbye and walked down the street to a place I discovered when I attended the LA Auto Show in November: The Figueroa Hotel.

We are both fans of historic buildings, and this one qualifies (by LA standards, anyway): It was dedicated in 1925 as a YWCA residence, and was converted into a hotel during the Depression. It was given a Moroccan-inspired makeover around the time that LA Live debuted, and its proximity to the entertainment complex makes it a natural venue for tourists and business travelers. During the Auto Show, it was the venue for a lavish party hosted by Hyundai. The minute I stepped into the lobby, I knew I had to bring Gareth there some time for a drink, because he would love it.

And he did. He had to spend some time walking around the tiled pool area before we settled in for drinks in the adjacent Veranda Bar (which is where the heaters were located last night). We sat down, we drank, and we even talked about things that had nothing to do with the kid (this is rare for us these days). This was a win-win!

We had an 8:00 reservation at Katsuya, back at LA Live – so we finished our drink and walked on back.

Katsuya is one of those restaurants where the interior design (by Philippe Starck) is as much of an attraction as the food; exactly the type of place we rarely visit any longer. It is very bright, very modern and the Japanese-fusion signature dishes are very good. I am allergic to some kinds of seafood, so I cannot tell you how my husband’s shrimp and crab orders were — but my seared tuna sashimi with avocado and salsa was out of this world, as was the salmon roll dotted with caviar.

Obviously, Katsuya is not a destination if you are on a budget, at least, not if you are trying out the “signature” dishes they are known for. I was tempted to go for the Omakase tasting menu which would have allowed us to sample most of these — but that costs $75 per person. (“You know we’re going to end up paying that much anyway,” I said.) But Katsuya also offers a Prix Fixe option for just $25, as well as some Bento boxes for about the same. Now that I’ve tried some of the signature dishes, I may opt for the budget options the next time. But that salmon and caviar roll might be too hard to resist. Our bill did come to $140, but that included our drinks, so we did spend a bit less than the Omakase would have cost.

It was a little after 9:00. Our daughter’s 8:00 concert included TWO opening acts. We were going to have to kill some more time.

“Let’s get dessert,” my husband suggested.

Our first thought was to find ourselves a comfortable perch at the JW Marriott, which is just across the promenade from the Nokia, but the lobby turned out to be crowded and we found its modern decor to be cold and uninviting. It was also literally cold last night, and we were both woefully unprepared. We walked back out and decided to try Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant.

“We’re actually out of dessert,” the hostess said. “But let me see what I can do.”

Yeah. I have never heard of a restaurant running out of dessert, either. I realize it was a Sunday night — but a holiday weekend with a sold-out show at the theater.

A manager approached us with a card. “We’re so sorry. Come back with this card and we’ll give you 20% off AND free parking,” he said.

Now that’s how you do customer service. Instead of being upset about being turned away, we walked out feeling good about the place.

The Farm was still serving dessert and coffee. Gareth ordered the blackberry cobbler. I don’t usually get dessert, but last night I made an exception and asked for the apple crumble.  Both  were served hot and came topped with vanilla bean ice cream. I tried to eat it slowly, but that was tough. It was just too good.

It was approaching 10:00 and we could see the staff preparing to close. We finished, paid our bill and made our way back to the hotel lounge, where we found a couple of empty seats that allowed us to keep our eye on the Nokia.

I ordered one last drink for the evening: a taste of Lagavulin. “I consider this the price of renting these seats for the next hour,” I said, estimating the cost at around $30. It was actually $26 — and I think it was a double shot, because I did not finish it. It was hard to estimate its volume, as it  was served in a short tumbler, filled to about a level of just 1/2″.

From our vantage point inside the hotel, we could see that the show had ended. Masses of teenage girls were pouring out of the theater and running back toward the parking structure, looking like a 21st century version of “Hard Day’s Night.” Our daughter and her friend eventually caught up with us and we made our way back there too and we passed the crowd of girls, all waiting expectantly to see the singer.

My daughter shook her head. “I guess they don’t know he already left,” she said. I’m not sure how she knew that he was gone, but I’m just as certain she was right.

It was a good night for all of us. My daughter and her friend got to see a favorite singer perform live. My husband and I got to spend some real quality time with one another, without the distractions we have at home. As that, as they say, was priceless.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Blather Food and Drink

Kyushu Ramen Serves Hot Bowls of Happiness

Kyushu_RamenI’m not sure when we stopped frequenting Kyushu, an unassuming ramen house in the Valley. Probably around the time I realized that when it comes to complex carbohydrates, I am like an alcoholic: My body cannot handle too much of them, and one sumptuous taste will set me off on an eating binge that does not stop until I’ve consumed an entire box of cooked pasta.

Pasta is probably my biggest downfall, although I am also partial to artisan bread, roasted potatoes, and rice. Surprisingly, I am pretty resistant to sweets — other than dark chocolate. And it’s hard not to crave ice cream on a hot summer day. As you can see, even writing about carbs puts me into a tailspin. But if you are ever looking for good, inexpensive eats in the San Fernando Valley, I feel it is my duty to let you in on the secret. It’s actually a public service. But I will make this brief, if only for my own self-preservation.

We’ve been experiencing another cold snap here in Southern California, but that’s not what caused our expedition to Kyushu. It actually began with a rare Friday evening where all three of us sat down to watch Netflix together. My daughter has become a real fan of indie films, and she selected The Ramen Girl, an obscure Japanese/American flick starring Brittany Murphy, which was released the year before her sudden and untimely death.

In the movie, Murphy plays Abby, a young American who has moved to Tokyo to be with her boyfriend, only to learn he didn’t want her there, after all. Lonely and alone, she finds refuge and redemption in a neighborhood ramen shop. Chicken noodle soup has always been one of my comfort foods, and I think there may be something universal about that. There is a scene in the film where a mere bite of tender noodles put a smile on the patrons’ faces, even bringing some of them to laughter. There is another scene where customer’s sample Abby’s own first attempt at making broth and are brought to tears.

The idea that a cook’s emotions are imparted into his or her food is not new. The movie was very sweet and a pleasant way to spend 90 minutes. But it had a very deleterious side effect: I wanted ramen. In fact, I could not rest until I had some. And my daughter was in the mood, too.

It had been so long since we visited Kyushu Ramen that I wasn’t certain of its exact location on Sherman Way (for the record, it is  just west of Sepulveda Boulevard).  It had been so long since we visited that Megan had no recollection of ever being there, although we did drop in fairly often when she was little. The food is good and inexpensive, and it was a favorite of our friends Maggie and Junior, who never steer us wrong when it comes to food – especially Japanese food. Once Megan heard that Kyushu was “Junior-approved,” she knew that this place would be the real deal.

And it is. I ordered the basic Shoyu Ramen for $6.95: a steaming bowl of broth and noodles, garnished with spinach, corn, bamboo shoots, spring onions, fish cake and a slab of tender pork. I laughed when I saw the corn, because in the movie we watched on Friday, the ramen master has a fit when Abby suggests adding corn to her dish. I guess it’s not traditional but OK?

At any rate: It was just what I needed to satisfy my craving.

If only I had stopped at the ramen! Kyushu has a rather large menu, and I could not resist ordering some gyoza to go with my soup. Megan had fried rice along with her miso ramen; she ended up bringing half of it home and re-heating it last night for dinner. I wish I had been so restrained; I ate every dumpling on my plate and I think I could have easily downed more.

I gained two pounds from that one ramen lunch and need to go carbo-cold turkey again – especially after writing this, because I’m craving more ramen.

And you know what? It was worth it.

Kyushu Ramen is located at  15355 Sherman Way, Van Nuys, CA 91406.

I was not commissioned or compensated for this post. 

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Original Blogsta SoCal Life

Soggy SoCal Friday

This is one of a series of old blog posts I’m re-publishing in honor of my 9/10’s of a decade writing SoCal Mom. This is from February 2005 – and coincidentally, we’re in the middle of another storm surge, although thankfully, not one fueled by an El Nino weather pattern.

Rainy Day in SoCal.
What my back yard looks like after two days of rain.

Visitors to Southern California in the winter are often surprised (and disappointed) to learn that it does indeed rain here. Not too often; over the last couple of decades we’ve been in this cycle of a few drought years followed by an El Nino powered onslaught and Eyewitness News images of houses sliding down the hills. Then we’re advised that we still need to conserve water because it’s gone dry again.

We’ve had 2 inches of rain today; over 26 inches so far this year… and it’s ONLY February. This is about 10 inches more than we usually average in an entire year.

And the natives are not happy. Something funny about Californians: I’ve never met any other people who complain about the weather as much as we do. That’s because we think it’s our birthright to enjoy pleasant, sunny skies and warm temperatures EVERY SINGLE DAY. And if it’s not perfect, we’re NOT HAPPY.

We complain about the smog. The heat. The wind. The cold. But most of all, we complain about the rain. (You should hear us when we have a combo situation — like cold & windy… or hot & windy… or cold & windy & wet… like today.)

But you know who the worst complainers are when the weather strays from sunny and 70? The folks who came here from somewhere else. They may be used to worse weather in their old home towns, but they thought they’d left that all behind when they moved here… and by golly, all that sunshine thins their blood or something, because they tend to really resent it when it’s gone.

But that’s not all. After they’re finished complaining about the rain (you expect any minute they’re going to threaten to sue somebody), they start in on us – Californians who would have warned them that even in paradise, a little rain must fall.

The biggest complaint of other state transplants is that Californians don’t know how to drive in the rain. But I think it’s the other way around.

Californians know that because it rains so seldomly (most years), moisture makes our roads especially slick. And because most of Los Angeles is built upon a river basin, the streets tend to flood. That combination (and common courtesy) means that drivers should slooooow down. (For example: trying to get your small car through a flooded intersection while some hulking SUV thunders in at 40 mph and causing a mini-tsunami to hit your windshield, temporarily blinding you.)

Everyone I know who ever had a serious car accident did it in rainy weather. You hear it on the news: 5:00 a.m. on a rainy morning and there are SigAlerts on every freeway because some jerk cut off a truck and it jacknifed, (and that person is usually someone from somewhere else.) The result is that everyone’s day is even lousier because traffic is at a standstill, and to make matters worse — IT’S RAINING.

I personally refuse to leave the house on rainy days if I can get away with it. You’re taking your life in your hands out there.

Of course, I know it’s not like this in the rest of the world. When we visit my husband’s family in the U.K., it rains all the time. And when we visit in the winter, the cold winds are blowing so hard that those drops are coming in horizontally – like bullets.

But over there, people don’t let it stop them from getting out and doing things. Children play (properly outfitted in raincoats and wellies), people walk about and it’s no big deal. At first, this was a shock to me. Now, I take it in stride. Over there. Because if the weather is cold and damp and dreary in the British winter… well, that’s what I expect. Can’t complain about that.

But rain in California? That’s downright unnatural.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
SoCal Life

Wordless Wednesday: On a Clear Day in Los Angeles

copyright 2013 Donna Schwartz Mills

I’ve been busy over at MOMocrats this week. So I hope you will allow me to share some photos I took over the weekend, when the air was clear and you could see for miles and miles. We were with friends down in San Pedro, and we drove back through downtown Los Angeles. The city looked so beautiful that I took out my camera and started snapping — from the freeway. I didn’t stop until we made it back to the northern San Fernando Valley.

Downtown Los Angeles - Looking East from the 10.
Downtown Los Angeles – Looking East from the 10.
copyright 2013 Donna Schwartz Mills

 

The 110 East through Downtown Los Angeles
Getting onto the 110 through Downtown
copyright 2013 Donna Schwartz Mills

 

LA Live
Passing Convention Center/LA Live entertainment hub
copyright 2013 Donna Schwartz Mills

 

The 101 in Hollywood
The 101 in Hollywood, entering Cahuenga
Pass copyright 2013 Donna Schwartz Mills

 

Universal Studios
Universal Studios is the gateway to the San Fernando Valley
copyright 2013, Donna Schwartz Mills

 

North on the 170
North on the 170; on a smoggy day you may not see those mountains
copyright 2013, Donna Schwartz Mills

 

West on the 118
Looping onto the 118 West, you can tell we’ve had rain because the hills are so green (they are usually brown) copyright 2013, Donna Schwartz Mills
Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Food and Drink Health and Fitness SoCal Life

Easy Organic Eating with SPUD

119_4329Over the last year, I’ve looked on with envy as friends have posted photos of gorgeous organic fruits and vegetables delivered right to their door. Envy, because most home delivery services I was familiar with did not venture into the northernmost reach of the San Fernando Valley (where I reside). And because I was convinced that such a service would not work for my family’s unpredictable meal schedule. And because I was convinced that such a service would be too expensive.

But it’s January, when the year is young and I am open to trying new things. I already committed to jumping into New Age-y mumbo jumbo by creating a dream board, which included a goal of adopting healthier practices. And my friend Yvonne of MomsLA asked if I would be interested in writing a review of SPUD.com (the appropriately acronymed Sustainable Produce Urban Delivery company). As this would be a review, there would be no payment (as you would have in a sponsored post); just a credit to purchase some of their products so I could see for myself how the service works — and then write it as I see it.

So once we determined that SPUD.com does indeed deliver to my neck of the Valley, I was in.

SPUD offers weekly “harvest boxes” of pre-selected seasonal produce at a flat rate. I have lots of friends who subscribe to this service, which accounts for the number of calls for recipes on Facebook when they receive vegetables they’ve never before tasted. Since my husband and daughter are picky eaters, I decided this was NOT the best option for me. SPUD also gives you the ability to customize your harvest box by indicating the items you would like to have — as well as those you abhor.

I figured I would keep this in mind for future deliveries.

SPUD also offers special juicing boxes, and is even offering a January special that includes free produce if you buy their high-end juicer.  I’m not ready for this, and don’t know if I’ll ever be. I’ve seen lots of diet fads in my lifetime, and this just strikes me as another one of those things I would be all gung-ho about at the beginning and then peter out after a few weeks (and a $359 investment in equipment). Maybe I’ll sample what’s available at the juice counter at Whole Foods and see if I like it.

119_4335

Fortunately, box subscriptions are not the only option for customers of SPUD. It’s a full-featured website offering a wide range of the same products you find at your local supermarket, with an emphasis on organic and/or locally grown produce and products — with the convenience of once-a-week delivery.

So I went in and selected the items I was pretty sure I’d be able to use within a week. This included:

1. The largest heads of organic cabbage and cauliflower I’ve ever seen

2. A couple of ruby red grapefruits and some lemons

3. Satsumas

4. Bananas

5. Russet and Fingerling Potatoes

6. Green onions

7. Rosemary and Basil

8. Fresh ginger

9. Avocados

And since SPUD offers other kinds of grocery items, I also picked up several bags of my salt & vinegar Kettle Potato chips (a favorite snack of my husband and daughter), some organic canned goods, and some of the Amy’s frozen vegan entrees my husband likes.

There are other items I could have ordered; some I should have ordered. This is something I always say whenever I get groceries online; I am always wishing I’d thought to ask for one more thing. Then again, this happens to me all the time when I do my IRL shopping, so I guess that’s just par for the course.

The groceries were not cheap – but they were not outrageously expensive, either. I expect to pay a premium for organic, as well as for the convenience of delivery.

And I actually used the produce, which scotched my fear of letting any of them go to waste:

Day 1: I made my favorite recipe for roast chicken with potatoes (with lemon and rosemary). I realized I could have also ordered an organic chicken from SPUD.

Day 2: I cut up the grapefruit and avocados and added them to some greens I had on hand for a fresh take on salad.

Day 3: I cut up that huge cauliflower and the rest of the russets and roasted them for this Indian spiced recipe with a bit of that fresh ginger.  I added some of the green onions for color. It smelled divine and tasted even better.

Day 4: The ginger and the fingerling potatoes got used in one of our favorite dishes, which also included the canned organic chickpeas I ordered from SPUD. (Next time, I will make sure to add more carrots and onions to my order).

Day 5: I made stewed cabbage:

1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 large carrot, very finely sliced
chopped parsley
1 tsp dried thyme
1 bay leaf
5 whole cloves
3 1/2 cups chopped green cabbage
salt and pepper
2/3 c vegetable stock or white wine and water mixed (I usually use the latter)

Heat the oil in a pot and gently cook the onion, carrot, bacon, herbs and cloves for about 15 minutes. Season the cabbage with salt and pepper, then add it along with the liquid (stock or wine/water mix). Mix all the vegetables thoroughly, cover the pot and simmer for 45 minutes. Remove lid and simmer another 5-10 minutes to reduce excess liquid before serving.

The original recipe is from this cookbook, and calls for butter (instead of oil) and bacon. This is the vegan version, and is nearly as tasty (because everything is better with bacon).

Ordering from SPUD was easy, convenient — and forced me to do some actual cooking. And now that I’ve depleted my initial order, I’m trying to decide what to get the next time.

I might even reconsider that juicing thing.

DISCLOSURE: I was not paid to write this post, nor did I make any guarantees that the review would be a positive one. I did receive a one-time credit for my first order, so that I could fully experience the service for the review.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
SoCal Life

A Night in Old Hollywood with Cirque du Soleil

Dark Knight Rises @ Dolby Theatre Hollywood, C...
Dark Knight Rises @ Dolby Theatre Hollywood, California (Photo credit: prayitno)

Last night, I got to cross another item off my bucket list: I finally caught my first live performance of Cirque du Soleil.

I’m kind of ashamed it has taken me this long: Cirque has been performing on and off  in Los Angeles since 1984, when it made its US debut at that year’s LA Arts Festival. I was busy. And broke. And that has been my excuse for the last three decades.

I only attended last night’s performance of Iris because we received an email deal last month, announcing tickets at 40% off. We later learned that the production is closing its doors for good on January 19th, after more than a year in residence at Hollywood’s Dolby Theatre. I’m glad we got in to see it just under the wire. And I’m sad we won’t be able to see this production again.

I was expecting to be wowed by the troupe’s display of acrobatic prowess, and I was not disappointed. What absolutely amazed me was how fitting this production was to its Hollywood location.

Animated sequence of a race horse galloping. P...
Animated sequence of a race horse galloping. Photos taken by Eadweard Muybridge (died 1904), first published in 1887 at Philadelphia (Animal Locomotion). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Iris is a tribute to the motion picture industry that put Hollywood on the map. The show was a valentine to the movies, going back to classics of the silent era and brought back memories of productions I studied back when I was a teenage film geek.

Graphics projected above the proscenium recalled the earliest of early silents, beginning with Eadweard Muybridge‘s serial still shots of a horse in motion and continuing on to the moon from the first science fiction movie, Georges Melies’ Voyage to the Moon, with state-of-the art special effects, circa 1902.

Griffith-intoleranceHollywoodHighland1It is also fitting that the Dolby Theatre — home to the Academy Awards — is housed in the Hollywood & Highland shopping center, which took design elements from the set of DW Griffith’s 1916 masterpiece Intolerance. That set stood for over three years on the corner of Sunset and Virgil (where the Vista Theater is now).

Those visual cues definitely added to my enjoyment of Iris, but them wasn’t necessary to appreciate what the Cirque folks created. At least, not if you ask my husband and daughter, who were just as entranced by the show without making those connections.

Musso1A note to folks attending a Saturday matinee at the Dolby: It’s a good idea to make dinner reservations in Hollywood ahead of time. Frankly, it has been such a long time since we’ve been out to dinner on a Saturday night that it never occurred to me to do so, and all of the restaurants in the Hollywood and Highland complex were packed. We decided to explore the Boulevard and ended up at Musso and Frank’s, which has been around since 1919 and was a hangout for luminaries of Hollywood’s golden age, like Charlie Chaplin and Humphrey Bogart — as well as literary giants like Faulkner, Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

The interior of the restaurant is all dark wood, red leather booths and old-timey wallpaper, and the menu has barely changed in 90 years of operation — except for the prices, which are high. The place was just as busy as the others we had tried, but we could not think of a more fitting way to end an evening celebrating  old Hollywood.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Health and Fitness

In an Epidemic, It’s Not Too Late to Get a Flu Shot

flu shotIt’s official: the CDC has declared an epidemic in the 2013 flu season. 7.3% of all deaths last week were attributed to pneumonia as a result of flu. And as alinsertways, Americans are advised that the best defense against the virus is to get a flu shot.  Flu vaccines no longer require a special trip to the doctor: here in Southern California, they’ve been advertised widely at all the major drug store chains; even the pharmacy inside our local Ralph’s, so getting one is super-convenient.

And Obamacare gives you one less excuse: If you have insurance, you may be able to obtain your vaccine for free, as they are now covered by most plans with NO co-pay.

The one excuse I don’t use any more is that I’m afraid it will hurt. This one was debunked for me a few years ago, as you can see from this video:

I knew all of this. So why did I wait until this week to get mine? The usual reasons: I’m too busy. I’m too lazy. It will still be there next week…

… which were all valid excuses until the news media finally started reporting how bad this flu season was starting to look. I’m not sure why it took until THIS WEEK to hear those stories, but soon after that, the reports also mentioned that the vaccine supplies were starting to run low.

And THAT’s what got me off my butt and into the nearest Rite-Aid during a lunch break on Thursday — and not a moment too soon.

“Joe – do we have any FluZone back there?” the pharmacy clerk shouted at her co-workers.

They had three doses left.

“We’ve had them for five months, but all of a sudden, everyone wants one. We ran out a couple of days ago and had to get more from another store,” she said.

This did not bode well for my plan to get my daughter vaccinated after school.

“Call us ahead of time,” I was advised.

I was too lazy to do that. I had my kid captive in the car and whisked her off to the shopping center at Porter Ranch before she could complain that she had too much homework. She’s good at making the “I’m too busy” excuse, too.

Our first stop was the aforementioned pharmacy at Ralph’s. They were all out.

So we hit the CVS store next door, and they had plenty of vaccines. The only problem was, they were not one of the providers that are contracted with our insurance plan. I did not want to spend the afternoon hunting for a covered vaccine and did not want to risk going another day without getting some protection for my daughter, who told me some of the kids in her class had already contracted flu. The cost of the shot was $36. That is money well spent to avoid the misery and expense of getting sick. I paid for the shot.

Then I called my husband and advised him to get one too, before it was too late. He got his on his lunch hour yesterday.

I realize that our vaccinations are no guarantee that we will avoid coming down with the flu. It takes two weeks for your body to develop enough antibodies to effectively fight an infection. Plus, this year’s vaccine is only 62% effective. But if we do come down with influenza, the vaccination may result in symptoms that aren’t as bad. And a 62% chance of immunity is better than none.

On top of that, by getting the vaccine and NOT getting sick, you can help keep the epidemic from getting worse.

Do it. Now.

DISCLOSURE: I received no compensation for this post, nor do I have any business relationship with the companies or brands listed in this post. The embedded video was shot four years ago. At that time, I received a free flu shot from CVS. No other compensation was given me.

 

Enhanced by Zemanta
Categories
Blather Original Blogsta

Old Friends

This is one of a series of old blog posts I’m re-publishing in honor of my 9/10’s of a decade writing SoCal Mom. This is from February 2005.

Last night, we dined with a couple I had not seen for over five years, formerly close friends who had been there for me through good times and bad. When Gareth and I were married, they not only flew up to Sacramento to attend the wedding, but hosted my bridal shower as well.

I’d been anticipating this reunion since we set it up several weeks ago, as I’ve sorely missed them. But as the day arrived, I felt apprehensive. Why had we drifted so far apart? And what if we no longer had anything in common? Would this be a futile attempt to recapture a friendship that should be left in the past?

That is how I felt after my last couple of meetings with Vicki and Dan, who had committed the crime of becoming successful beyond any of our dreams — and believe me, as college graduates embarking on our first entertainment industry jobs, our dreams were BIG.

Not that I resented their success (although I can be that petty and have felt that way about other people I know). They have worked hard for it and I appreciate that. But because Vicki and Dan and I embarked on careers together, their achievements left me feeling that I had been left behind. And no matter how content I am in my present life, a part of me is pissed off at myself for giving up on the only thing I ever wanted to do professionally — and have never been able to figure out what to replace it with.

And those feelings are magnified at those times when we are struggling with finances — as we always seem to be.

“It’s hard to be friends with people who have a lot more money than you,” said the leader of the writers’ support group I belonged to briefly after I’d quit my full-time convention-planning job to be a stay-at-home mom. I had told them about my last meeting with Vicki and Dan and how out of place I’d felt in the world they now lived in. I was certain they were feeling the same awkwardness with me.

So I didn’t fight it when Vicki and I stopped calling each other set up girls’ nights that were becoming increasingly difficult to hold. We simply lost touch as we both tried to balance our lives. Besides, the last time I’d tried to call her (a year ago, after receiving an announcement that they’d moved to another part of the town they live in), I got a message that their number had been disconnected. I had sent her a little note via snail mail suggesting we get together. I never received a response.

So the only contact we had with one another was the Christmas cards we continued to exchange — at least, during those years I managed to get cards out. Vicki, who always had impeccable manners, never failed to send a little holiday note. This year, her note included the thought that we should get together this year – as well as her email address.

I emailed her, she emailed back. “We’d love to have you over for the evening,” she wrote. “Something casual so the kids can get acquainted and we can catch up.” We settled on Saturday night – “7ish.”

That word “casual” was music to my ears. I repeated it when Gareth asked if he needed to dress up. I told him I was just going to wear a sweater and jeans. He did the same. Megan wanted to wear a skirt, but she selected a long denim one – so I guess we had a theme going.

“Let’s not leave just yet,” I told Gareth at 6:30 last night. “Vicki is always late, so I’d rather not show up at the dot of seven.” I have always been compulsively punctual, and still am, despite the fact that having children around makes it nearly impossible to arrive anywhere on time.

So we waited 10 minutes, which would ensure that we would arrive at their home at the dot of 7:10. I had printed out the directions Vicki had sent me from Mapquest.

However, when we got off the freeway, we discovered that the street we were to turn on was blocked off due to flooding from the rain. So we went the other direction and searched for a back route to get to the street we needed to find in order to get to their home – which we’d never before seen.

We wandered about the town for a good 20 minutes before we finally got on track. “Look at that,” Gareth exclaimed, as we passed by a string of homes that could only be described as mansions. That’s pretty much the kind of neighborhood I expected.

We were finally following the Mapquest directions, but still found ourselves making a lot of wrong turns on the narrow, windy hillside roads – which were unlit, forcing us to stop at each intersection so we could read the street signs. Making out the addresses was even tougher.

Eventually, we found a house that appeared to be the right one. After pulling into the driveway, I wandered back out to the curb to compare the address with the one on the printout. “I’d hate to park in the driveway of a total stranger,” I said. The addresses matched. We rang the bell. It was 7:35.

“Sorry we’re late,” I told them. “The street off the freeway was blocked off from the rain, so we had to find another way up here.”

Vicki laughed. “I told Dan I thought something was wrong, because Donna’s ALWAYS on time.” I was gratified to see that they were also dressed in sweaters and jeans.

Megan’s eyes grew wide that these people who she did not know knew me so well. “I told you we were old friends,” I said to her. I told her how I made Gareth wait 10 minutes, because I knew she would be running late. “And that hasn’t changed,” Dan laughed.

Vicki and Dan’s home is not a mansion – but it’s pretty darned big, with a dramatic entryway. The furniture was elegant yet comfortable – all of which was expected. Vicki had always had excellent taste.

We moseyed over to the enormous gourmet kitchen, where Vicki had already laid out some appetizers. Dan poured the wine. I was nervous, so I proceeded to drink it. Our kids (Megan and their 12-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son) just sort of stared at one another, before Vicki gently sent them upstairs to watch a DVD.

“You look exactly the same,” Dan remarked to me.

“A bit heavier,” I said. I admitted that I had been worried that after all this time, we might not recognize one another and it was a relief to see that was not the case. Hey, the lighting in their home last night was atmospheric – no one’s wrinkles were showing. I approve of that.

“I’m still bald,” Gareth said.

As Vicki and Dan set about cooking dinner, we reminisced – about the garden apartment building we’d all lived in (that was recently razed and replaced with luxury condos), the jobs we had together (I had worked with Vicki and Dan separately) and people we used to know. Dan kept refilling my wine glass, and I happily (stupidly!) sipped away.

And we brought ourselves up to date. I confessed my habit of Google-ing all my old friends to see what they are up to, so I knew that after Dan’s last series went off the air, he’d gone through a period where not much was happening. “We spent four years just writing pilots,” he said. I was pleased to learn that since September, he was back producing a network show – one that I have not yet seen. “Our ratings were really good last night,” he added, “so I think we’ll be renewed for next season.” I made a mental note to set the Tivo for it this week.

We gossiped about the industry. Vicki gave us the inside scoop on some of the films her studio released last year, as well as a couple on the horizon. We talked about Dan’s former agent, who had gone to jail for embezzling from some of her clients (fortunately, Dan was not one of them). We talked about the Oscar nominee I had worked for who had treated me badly (Dan concurred that the guy did not have a very good reputation, which made me feel less guilty for despising him all these years). And Gareth told them about the business he is in, and how he’s been doing.

All in all, it was like old times – familiar and comfortable. Except the only thing we did not discuss is what I’ve been up to. Now, when I emailed them back the first time, I told them about this blog and that everything they needed to know about me was open for the world to see – so it’s possible they read that (although no one mentioned it) and didn’t need to ask me. Or maybe they were being sensitive to the fact that I do feel like a damned failure when I allow myself to think about the success I never attained, so didn’t want to get into it. Or maybe it’s that typical thing about being a stay-at-home mom and no one really cares what it is we do.

Or maybe I still need to do a lot more work on my own feelings of self-esteem.

We left their home promising to do this again, soon – this time at our house (a more intimate setting, I told them). The ball is now in my court. I plan on hitting it.

Categories
Celebrities Current Events SoCal Life Television

Huell Howser: A SoCal Inspiration

Huell Howser at the Nisei Week Grand Parade, L...
Huell Howser at the Nisei Week Grand Parade, Los Angeles, California, 19 August 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My husband was such a fan of Huell Howser that he called me from work yesterday when he heard the news.

We both enjoyed watching the venerable human interest reporter with the seemingly endless curiosity about our local treasures.

Howser was such a presence on local public television that most Angelenos may have forgotten that he started in LA on CBS owned and operated Channel 2. At first glance, his “aw, shucks” manner did not seem to fit into the jaded, life in the fast lane aura of 1980’s Los Angeles — but his wide-eyed curiosity, enthusiasm and love of people were infectious. He became a local icon after he found a permanent home at public television station KCET.

I remember a Los Angeles magazine profile proclaiming with an envious tone that Huell Howser had the “best job in the world.” He made a career out of just talking to people — regular people, not celebrities. People who were passionate about what they did. And Howser was just as passionate. He was as fascinated at a trade show for owners of pizza restaurants as he was when he got up close and personal with the Hollywood sign. He visited parks, highlighted obscure people and history — and always seemed to have a good time doing it.

What Huell Howser did so naturally is what I have tried to do here on this blog (that is, when I haven’t been gazing at my own navel). My favorite posts are the ones where I’ve explored something new: a city, an attraction — something that piques my curiosity until I get some answers. I cannot think of a better role model.

Last night, I tuned in to Howser’s show, which KCET continues to air in reruns. I watched him ooh and aah over a music college on Hollywood Boulevard (who knew?) There was an on-air acknowledgement of Howser’s passing at the end of the program (shot two years ago), and no indication that the station would let a little thing like death get in the way of their programming — so we lucky Angelenos can continue to enjoy this man who never lost his wonder of people and the world around him. The rest of you can still view some of his old shows for free on iTunes and on his website here.

RIP, Huell.

Enhanced by Zemanta