Sometime after viewing some really cool bits of film the call went out for a road trip. If I'm not mistaken Nick was in a Santa Monica state of mind. So without thinking most said "aww yeaaah". It was on.
Logistics.
Well, the Explorer was being used, and the Dodge truck was elsewhere. So CT and Tanya took Nick and Nelson in CT's new very cool little Matrix. And in the grendel-rental, HotPants, HAM, Subotai, Blofeld, and me. Grendel is the exceptional and consumnate father staying home with the kids.
Seating was as follows: HP driving, HAM in the apropos "shotgun", Subotai to my left in the second seat, Blofeld driving the boom. Plenty of seatbelts, here we go.
After getting a tank of petrol(International audience suck-up word) we start down some street. We're following CT because we're sincerely under the impression that SoCal natives generally know where they're going. It turns out that would be the problem.
After a short time Ct turns to the side to allow Tanya to drive. Awww...idn'at cute! As it would happen, Tanya has a real talent...for finding the right time to go through traffic lights so as to lose the following overloaded minivan!
What was most amusing from my perspective was HP's ability and determination to keep up with Tanya. Maybe it was HAM's insistence that "we are going to LOSE THEM" or it was HP's own spirit, but boy-howdy could that woman drive a minivan! Down on power, brakes literally burning(the atmosphere was fully engulfed in the aroma), HAM "advising" that we "just follow them!" and here she is turning the cassette player on. More than a couple of times did my seat belt lock up in that sort of loading of the brakes kind of way. But the only real injury I received was from the sunburn I was getting on my bald spot from THE INTENSE WHITE GLOW EMINATING FROM BLOFELD'S KNUCKLES!
He's back there, ever the underwriter, trying to form coherent thoughts all the while trying to figure out what sort of insurance everybody has for the inevitable wreck. Because believe me, it looked like it was in the cards at a couple of points.
Sitting quietly I blurt out, "You're driving reminds me of my ex-wife." All things being equal, my ex's driving never bothered me...usually nutty driving doesn't phase me much. And this whole trip was nutty because Tanya was totally in control while we were the overloaded caboose with a strange glow in the back.
All the while, HAM was allowed to roll down his window to accost pedestrians with his impression of Danzig. --BTW: When a Princess Di look-alike went by us in front of Universal, HAM was totally obligated to jump practically out of his window to yell "DON'T GO INTO THE TUNNEL!"
Blofeld is decidedly annoyed by this time but calmer. Glow now turns to a lovely warm yellow/orange. Subotai and I were roasting marshmellons over the Blofeld knuckles.
We get to Mulholland Drive. Tanya takes of into the hills like a World Rally Champ and we're like plowing rocks off the cliffs on the curves. For the most part I haven't a clue as to where we are, where we're going, and frankly why. Because the drive was supposed to be a short-cut, yet turned out to be much longer than ultimately the drive back on the freeways would be. So much for irony.
Somewhere along the way our Canadian contingent Subotai gives us a "moment" when in the middle of what probably was an important sentence he uses the word...Blofeld and I have to hold back the tears until the thought was complete. HAM and HP are like "what's up with you two?"
In unison, "He said oot!"
Eventually we get down to the flatlands and more pedestrians. I have sunscreen on my head from The Glow. HP is laughing the streaks out of her hair, HAM is all about "you are so sexy baby!" in an undisclosed accent reminiscent of Yanosh("Everything you are doing is bad. I want you to know this"). Mostly to guys who had a plethora of responses from "bastard made me drop my rock" to "oooooo...who's that?" We were in a decidedly alternative part of town.
Finally to Santa Monica Blvd and a scene opens up for our consideration. Along the other side of the street sits a convertible Saab with its top down and a few cops with flashlights approaching it carefully. No driver, apparently. We get closer and there's several cop cars blocking the street. So I look around for a camera crew when I notice the streaks on the rolled-up window of the car...someone got capped.
Once again, surreal. But in a real-life sort of way. My heart rate stays constant. HP's driving really didn't bother me. The only thing that bothered me was the headache I was getting from laughing so damned hard at all the nuttiness, scenes on the street notwithstanding!
We blew that scene off and finally got closer to the Promenade in S.M. Still behind the Matrix we managed to stay together.
Until…
HotPants had a particular tape she was holding out on us. HAM was just about to impart the Wisdom of the Ages when the strains of "I'm Too Sexy" suddenly waft over him. He was mid-syllable. HAM is appropriately named. Because when the song came on he came alive...in a crowded minivan on a crowded street corner...in front of what appeared to be a group of young Japanese tourists. Doing the Catwalk with his fingers, Disco Dancing, cranking up the sound so all the pedestrians we were next to at the stop light could hear and enjoy. A Captive audience. The really funny part was HP's ability to crack totally up in that silent way. I was often wondering if she was breathing! Remember that scene in Star Trek when Spock gives Kirk the "Vulcan Death Grip"? The look on Kirk's face?
Heh heh...
Meanwhile Tanya had turned the corner while we were: A)Laughing heartily, and B)the crosswalk was clear that moment. We were still with the tourists. Suddenly Tanya, CT, Nelson, and Nick were nowhere in sight.
All that distance, all those brake pads, all that death & potential death and what separates us? Right Said Fred. Somehow fitting...and entertaining as hell.
Hilarious! And the best part was there were at least four cell phones between the two vehicles...nobody knows anybody's "digits" -in the parlayance of Hollywood.
Well, once we get a parking space we walk to the Promenade. Blofeld is now about to take over. He insists we stay put while he goes to find Nick et.al. We're like, "yes sir!" So HAM gets up onto this railing and watches a street act for a bit. He becomes annoyed and begins to call out several times loudly, "Nick Nunziata come to me! Come to me baby!" at the very top of his lungs.
Well, we finally meet back together due to Blofeld's ability to gather up his sheep, and Tanya's ability to pin down her men by shopping for a sweater. Hey, it's a talent.
I guess it was time for food...although I don't know why.
Apparently things restaurants to close early along this promenade and we have difficulty finding someplace to seat us. Nelson is undoubtedly annoyed that Gaucho Grill is an hour's wait. We go to this other restaurant/dance club in which HP was really interested. The "hostess" looks at Nick and I like we were covered in feces when we said "table for nine?" She then saunters her little skirt in the direction of the dining room and comes back with this 'oh god, do I have to earn something here?' look on her face. To the deli accross the street.
A combination of bar, restaurant, deli, and wine(poseur) bar. All under one roof. I wasn't really interested in eating because I had been nibbling all afternoon. I don't see how the others could, but the food was fairly good. Sandwiches, scampi, Grolsch beer. More good conversation as we bandage up Blofeld's now blistered knuckles!
The drive back to Der Willholmen was decidely shorter via freeway and not Mulholland.
I wouldn't trade that road trip or the people involved for anything.
The evening and the morning were the second day.
Logistics.
Well, the Explorer was being used, and the Dodge truck was elsewhere. So CT and Tanya took Nick and Nelson in CT's new very cool little Matrix. And in the grendel-rental, HotPants, HAM, Subotai, Blofeld, and me. Grendel is the exceptional and consumnate father staying home with the kids.
Seating was as follows: HP driving, HAM in the apropos "shotgun", Subotai to my left in the second seat, Blofeld driving the boom. Plenty of seatbelts, here we go.
After getting a tank of petrol(International audience suck-up word) we start down some street. We're following CT because we're sincerely under the impression that SoCal natives generally know where they're going. It turns out that would be the problem.
After a short time Ct turns to the side to allow Tanya to drive. Awww...idn'at cute! As it would happen, Tanya has a real talent...for finding the right time to go through traffic lights so as to lose the following overloaded minivan!
What was most amusing from my perspective was HP's ability and determination to keep up with Tanya. Maybe it was HAM's insistence that "we are going to LOSE THEM" or it was HP's own spirit, but boy-howdy could that woman drive a minivan! Down on power, brakes literally burning(the atmosphere was fully engulfed in the aroma), HAM "advising" that we "just follow them!" and here she is turning the cassette player on. More than a couple of times did my seat belt lock up in that sort of loading of the brakes kind of way. But the only real injury I received was from the sunburn I was getting on my bald spot from THE INTENSE WHITE GLOW EMINATING FROM BLOFELD'S KNUCKLES!
He's back there, ever the underwriter, trying to form coherent thoughts all the while trying to figure out what sort of insurance everybody has for the inevitable wreck. Because believe me, it looked like it was in the cards at a couple of points.
Sitting quietly I blurt out, "You're driving reminds me of my ex-wife." All things being equal, my ex's driving never bothered me...usually nutty driving doesn't phase me much. And this whole trip was nutty because Tanya was totally in control while we were the overloaded caboose with a strange glow in the back.
All the while, HAM was allowed to roll down his window to accost pedestrians with his impression of Danzig. --BTW: When a Princess Di look-alike went by us in front of Universal, HAM was totally obligated to jump practically out of his window to yell "DON'T GO INTO THE TUNNEL!"
Blofeld is decidedly annoyed by this time but calmer. Glow now turns to a lovely warm yellow/orange. Subotai and I were roasting marshmellons over the Blofeld knuckles.
We get to Mulholland Drive. Tanya takes of into the hills like a World Rally Champ and we're like plowing rocks off the cliffs on the curves. For the most part I haven't a clue as to where we are, where we're going, and frankly why. Because the drive was supposed to be a short-cut, yet turned out to be much longer than ultimately the drive back on the freeways would be. So much for irony.
Somewhere along the way our Canadian contingent Subotai gives us a "moment" when in the middle of what probably was an important sentence he uses the word...Blofeld and I have to hold back the tears until the thought was complete. HAM and HP are like "what's up with you two?"
In unison, "He said oot!"
Eventually we get down to the flatlands and more pedestrians. I have sunscreen on my head from The Glow. HP is laughing the streaks out of her hair, HAM is all about "you are so sexy baby!" in an undisclosed accent reminiscent of Yanosh("Everything you are doing is bad. I want you to know this"). Mostly to guys who had a plethora of responses from "bastard made me drop my rock" to "oooooo...who's that?" We were in a decidedly alternative part of town.
Finally to Santa Monica Blvd and a scene opens up for our consideration. Along the other side of the street sits a convertible Saab with its top down and a few cops with flashlights approaching it carefully. No driver, apparently. We get closer and there's several cop cars blocking the street. So I look around for a camera crew when I notice the streaks on the rolled-up window of the car...someone got capped.
Once again, surreal. But in a real-life sort of way. My heart rate stays constant. HP's driving really didn't bother me. The only thing that bothered me was the headache I was getting from laughing so damned hard at all the nuttiness, scenes on the street notwithstanding!
We blew that scene off and finally got closer to the Promenade in S.M. Still behind the Matrix we managed to stay together.
Until…
HotPants had a particular tape she was holding out on us. HAM was just about to impart the Wisdom of the Ages when the strains of "I'm Too Sexy" suddenly waft over him. He was mid-syllable. HAM is appropriately named. Because when the song came on he came alive...in a crowded minivan on a crowded street corner...in front of what appeared to be a group of young Japanese tourists. Doing the Catwalk with his fingers, Disco Dancing, cranking up the sound so all the pedestrians we were next to at the stop light could hear and enjoy. A Captive audience. The really funny part was HP's ability to crack totally up in that silent way. I was often wondering if she was breathing! Remember that scene in Star Trek when Spock gives Kirk the "Vulcan Death Grip"? The look on Kirk's face?
Heh heh...
Meanwhile Tanya had turned the corner while we were: A)Laughing heartily, and B)the crosswalk was clear that moment. We were still with the tourists. Suddenly Tanya, CT, Nelson, and Nick were nowhere in sight.
All that distance, all those brake pads, all that death & potential death and what separates us? Right Said Fred. Somehow fitting...and entertaining as hell.
Hilarious! And the best part was there were at least four cell phones between the two vehicles...nobody knows anybody's "digits" -in the parlayance of Hollywood.
Well, once we get a parking space we walk to the Promenade. Blofeld is now about to take over. He insists we stay put while he goes to find Nick et.al. We're like, "yes sir!" So HAM gets up onto this railing and watches a street act for a bit. He becomes annoyed and begins to call out several times loudly, "Nick Nunziata come to me! Come to me baby!" at the very top of his lungs.
Well, we finally meet back together due to Blofeld's ability to gather up his sheep, and Tanya's ability to pin down her men by shopping for a sweater. Hey, it's a talent.
I guess it was time for food...although I don't know why.
Apparently things restaurants to close early along this promenade and we have difficulty finding someplace to seat us. Nelson is undoubtedly annoyed that Gaucho Grill is an hour's wait. We go to this other restaurant/dance club in which HP was really interested. The "hostess" looks at Nick and I like we were covered in feces when we said "table for nine?" She then saunters her little skirt in the direction of the dining room and comes back with this 'oh god, do I have to earn something here?' look on her face. To the deli accross the street.
A combination of bar, restaurant, deli, and wine(poseur) bar. All under one roof. I wasn't really interested in eating because I had been nibbling all afternoon. I don't see how the others could, but the food was fairly good. Sandwiches, scampi, Grolsch beer. More good conversation as we bandage up Blofeld's now blistered knuckles!
The drive back to Der Willholmen was decidely shorter via freeway and not Mulholland.
I wouldn't trade that road trip or the people involved for anything.
The evening and the morning were the second day.
