The Battle Of Los Angeles

Today, I write to you from a Whole Foods in Venice, California. I can’t decide yet whether Whole Foods is evil (not enough data), though I can confirm that many of their offerings are sinfully delicious (See how I did that?). My guess is that Whole Foods is probably bad. But they have free wireless and I am hungry and needed to get out of the house for a bit, so it won because it is right near where I am staying and I have promised myself I won’t go to that placed called Cock ‘n Bull again until after sundown.

Speaking of bad, I just ate a bunch of sushi-to-go (which is to say sushi that comes in a plastic container and sits there for a really long time until someone like me decides they need to eat it as quickly as possible). It’s Monday and I am just sort of/kind of remembering that it’s bad to eat sushi on Monday (something about it being the day after Sunday, when fresh fish is not delivered or caught or something). Anyway, the sushi was not so good though ultimately served its purpose of making me not think about eating anymore. It is kind of making me thinkg about puking now, but that is something for another entry altogether. For now, I will focus on drinking liquids and counting on the can-do attitude of my immune system to get me through.

Tonight is my last night here in Los Angeles. I get up at an absurdly early hour tomorrow morning and wing it (which is to say fly on a plane) back to NYC for a couple days before heading off to London for a bit (which is to say ten days). I’m not sure what it is about travel that is so exhausting, but somehow it is, even though so much of it seems to involve just sitting there while some mode of transportation or another takes you someplace where you will probably have snacks and slightly too much to drink. I am tired from the past week and getting even more tired thinking about the next couple weeks to come. And I am boring even myself just typing about it. And I need more snacks.

My trip to Los Angeles has been pretty. I have done a bunch of shows- my lovely friend Tig Notaro’s Largo show, my own Explosion show at the UCB Theatre out here, the Tomorrow Show at the Steve Allen Theatre (that’s a bust of Steve above. Someday it- or at least an exact replica- will sit on the mantle in my really expensive and easy-to-get-lost-in home somewhere), Ali Waller’s Sunday night show at Molly Malone’s, and tonight’s “What’s Up, Tiger Lily?” show at the Cuba Libre bar (which- to be fair- still exists in the future). Given some extreme digestive problems I have been battling during my stay, most of the shows so far have involved me just trying to get through things without a major pants-changing incident being thrown into the mix. Thanks to the sushi I just ate, the problem is likely to continue or- at the very least- be something I keep thinking about too much. I pretty much don’t learn things, generally speaking.

Of note during my visit this week is that this past Saturday I attended my first ever roller derby. It was pretty fun but also pretty much exactly as I expected- punk rock-ish girls skating in a circle, trying not to fall down, and shoving each other around from time to time. All in all, not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Next time I will bring the whole family and every so often point at one of the girls on the track and say “That one! That’s the one I really think would understand me!”

This morning, I had coffee at a popular coffee spot here in Venice where I have been going pretty much every morning during my Los Angeles invasion. This time around I decided to sit outside and drink my coffee with the regulars. It was there that I found myself completely annoyed by some guy attempting to impart wisdom about “pain” in its many forms and then talking at length to someone else’s dog. I can’t stand it when people try to communicate with and/or entertain adult humans around them by talking to an animal and/or pre-verbal child at length. I can handle a “You’re such a cutey! Yes you are!” or “You want the ball, don’t ya?!” (both accetpable things to say to dogs and small children) from time to time, but beyond that I really need people to shut the hell up on this front, at least when I am around and haven’t yet had my coffee anyway. Most of the time, the real message in these situations seems to be “Look at how thoughtful I am in talking to this animal that has no idea what I am saying. Will you make out with me?” Or something like that anyway. Then again, I realize the problem here might actually be me. I am starting with the man in the mirror. I’m asking him to change his ways. Oh, I also hate that version of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” as song by John Mayer that I just heard on the radio. What the F? Why take a perfectly good song, slow it down, and sing it like a total pussy? It doesn’t make it better. It makes me want to stab him.

Okay, I will stop whining and get back to talking about myself some more. I am up on the HBO Boxing home page today. You can see it right here. And here is something to make everything right with the world once more. I guess I would try to talk to this guy too.

Oh, and here is another picture of me and Lucy Lawless really enjoying each other's company. You ever just know when something feels...right?

Dave Hill