Los Angeles, California

Written by Panama Red Potter

I once read in a magazine that Leonard Cohen resides in an unfashionable part of LA. No explanation, no town, community, address, or street, just the apparently self-evident adjective “unfashionable.” As much as it obscures, I also found this description wonderfully adequate to describe the contrasts that demarcate the Los Angeles area.

Today we drove up the LA coastline from Laguna Beach all the way to Santa Monica. And though we only drove 100 miles it seemed like we spent seven hours in the car. The LA experience par excellence. On our drive we saw it all, quaint trendy beach apartments in Newport that rent for $6,000 a month, to the dilapidated urban sprawl marked by Taquerias and CompUSA computer stores, back again through Beverly Hills on the curviest road I know, Sunset Boulevard. We ended the daylight hours on Venice Beach where we happened upon a gorgeous sunset and one of the most organic, and cosmopolitan drum circles I have seen comprised of drummers, dancers, and onlookers of all creeds, colors, and fashion.

After dark we decided to make our way over to Glendale, California, which is north central LA just south of Burbank. Somewhere out on West Colorado Blvd in Glendale I found the best little Taqueria on the planet. So good in fact that I ate 6 carne asada tacos and enjoyed every morsel to the last bite, this despite having eaten nothing but Mexican food for nearly two solid weeks.

After a satisfying meal we made our way to “The Scene bar” where there didn’t seem to be any scene at all, just a handful of regulars and a gaggle of stand up comedians who preceded our show. The comedians quickly proceeded to exit the bar as soon as their acts were over and the band began to setup and tune their instruments. Oh well I guess I understand. The place smelled like a toilet and I guess they were glad to exit the scene after yucking it up in front of a throng of 9 people.

After the show I walked outside and slowly loaded my camera equipment into my car. I think I started to understand what it meant to be unfashionable and where it was located. I imagined that Leonard Cohen quite possibly lived just around the corner and was just at that moment sipping on an excellent martini reminiscing on all the great sex he had at the Chelsea hotel.