Today was another semi-productive day, at least in Californian terms. I was up by 9:30 so I could chauffeur Ilya to work. Morning traffic was light, so upon dropping him off in Mid-Wilshire I headed back to Echo Park to hang out at the coffee shop down the street. While sitting outside trying to position my laptop just right to pick up their free WiFi connection, I overheard a hilarious conversation between three slacker-filmmaker types. They were arguing about filming locations, and how California “looks too much like California.” Their lunacy was so classic, it forced me to quit fidgeting with the WiFi and focus on transcribing their chat. Once they left, I had no reason to stay there.
From the coffee shop, I hopped in my rented Chevy and drove all the way down Sunset to Pacific Coast Highway (two, three), and Santa Monica. I spent a few hours sitting on the beach, watching boats (two, three), surfers (two, three, four), and generally just enjoying the sunlight and crashing waves (two, three). I spent more than a fair amount of time trying to capture a picture of an erne (or seagull) mid-flight. one | two | three
Old man, young woman (two)
Fisherman
Once my short-term parking pass expired, I drove down Main Street and parked in front of a small sandwich shop called Amelia’s, where I ate lunch. Lastly, I drove to and walked around the 3rd Street Promenade.
I was instructed to leave Santa Monica and start driving back to L.A. at about four o’clock, or risk getting stuck in ungodly traffic. I figured that with two whole hours, I had plenty of time to get back and check my inbox for apartment-related e-mails before Ilya got out of work. Then I got stuck in traffic for almost three hours. Man, did that suck.
Dinner was at an upscale diner called Fred 62. The breakfast burrito was excellent. Our waitress was beautiful. Ilya successfully pointed out two cokeheads. That was pretty much it.
The evening consisted of finding our way into the Hella / Deerhoof show at the El Rey. We missed Busdriver’s set, but found our way in mid-Hella. Their quintet approach was wild. Zach Hill’s drumming exceeded all my expectations. The vocals over scattershot notes and weird time changes sounded a lot like volcano!. The Deerhoof trio were not as impressive as last I saw them, but still sounded great. Following the show, we bumped into a guy we met while bumming tickets, and he in-turn bummed a ride off us. It’s 2am and I’m tired.
Tomorrow I have an appointment to see an apartment or two. Then, who knows.
