Nobody Walks In LA...

Being here in Los Angeles, a city which I have never visited, reminds me so much of the times I spent in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth while researching the London Sydney Marathon book. I am so very aware that I am not here as a tourist, and although I will try to visit various landmark sites (Sunset Strip, Hollywood, Melrose Avenue, the Griffith Observatory, the Getty etc.), my mind is so full of scraps of information and ideas about this book, it’s hard to think about anything else. That said, yesterday I did decide to go and see the Petersen Automotive Museum (cars – right up my street). Throwing caution to the wind, rather than book an Uber cab, I worked out the route by foot, a 45 minute walk, so set off into the bright blue day and headed northwest, past neat and tidy stucco houses, enjoying the displays of deep pink, red and orange bourgainvillea, bird of paradise (a personal favourite) and every now and then walking through the heavy scent of mangos from windfall fruits. The walk took me past more car body repair shops, dodgy looking bars and fast food ‘joints’ than you can shake a stick at, before emerging onto Wilshire, opposite the LA Contemporary Art Museum. A brief walk west, and imagine my disappointment to discover that the Petersen is closed for renovations until December! Look it up online, it’s a real marmite design – I think it looks fantastic. So, what to do? To go to an art museum, I think you have to really want to, and I was in two minds, so instead I decided to just wander along Wilshire and, well, look. Cut a long story short, Wilshire is very dull, lined with pharmacies, banks, and assorted construction sites. One sad site was Johnie’s Coffee Shop, a wonderful example of late-1950s futuristic or ‘populuxe’ architecture that embraced motels, petrol stations and airport buildings, all boomerang roofs and bright colours. Johnie’s closed 15 years ago, and although it was made an historic landmark in 2013, it looked sad and derelict, a victim of progress I suppose.

 

At 52 years old, I like to think I have learnt a few lessons, so as I walked I made sure I was well-sun-screened, and I did remember to bring a hat, but… curiosity took me all the way to Santa Monica Blvd, where I stopped for coffee (Jim M, I almost gave my name as Wilberforce to the Starbucks’ barista!) and then retraced my route. The lesson of the day was when walking for over ten miles, always wear appropriate foot wear! Seriously, as I made the final approaches back to my base, I felt like an absolute wreck, with obvious blisters and neck and shoulders aching from carrying my natty blue canvas satchel. Strangely, I never once passed a grocery shop or newsagent. I suppose everyone gets their LA Times delivered, but really, this being the US, I at least expected one of those coin-operated newspaper stands.

 

Now, we all have our heroes, or favourites – sports people, singers and musicians, writers and actors. Over the years, some fade from our minds or get replaced by new ones, but for reasons I still can’t quite explain, I have remained an admirer of A since before I went to college. Never a ‘star’ but always a presence on US television in the 1960s and 1970s, she shared screen time with an extraordinary range of ‘names’, from Marlon Brando and Trevor Howard to Robin Williams and Jamie Lee Curtis. Well, incredibly graciously, last evening A drove from her home near the Beverly Hills all the way to where I’m staying, to pick me up so we could go to eat before watching the two Dorothy Arzner movies. Try to imagine not only actually having the opportunity to meet one of your personal heroes, but also in the setting of jumping into their car and zooming off across town, taking in The Avenue of The Stars! Confess I was actually a little tongue-tied (what, me?), but this lovely, funny woman was a delight to meet, and as we careened across Los Angeles and into Beverly Hills, A pointing out various examples of LA’s apparent appetite to tear down and rebuild (not to her liking), our conversation rolled across so many subjects, very much along the lines of ‘oh, and another thing…’ She brought assorted inrteresting press clippings and notes, plus copies of that day’s/week’s LA Times, New York Times and Hollywood Reporter for me, and as we parked in the underground car park of the Hammer Museum, we were giggling at her untidy parking – I told her that, where I live, we call that ‘Cotswold parking’! We sat and had dinner at the museum restaurant, discussion weaving here and there, and then took our seats for the films, laughing at what were the MOST uncomfortable cinema seats I have ever found. The films were great – Lucille Ball was extraordinarily good in Dance, Girl, Dance – and what particularly interested me was that, while both films (1940 and 1937 respectively) were typical of the period, there was something different about their construction. Couldn’t put my finger on it, by obviously they were both directed by Ms Arzner, the only woman to do this during the Hollywood studio system era. I mean, we all know the Joan Crawford stories, but in The Bride Wore Red, somehow Arzner got Crawford to offer something quite different, a revelation for me. Gone 11.00pm by the time the lights came up, but A insisted on running me back, and we parted with a plan for me to visit her home on Sunday, this time me insisting that I Uber, rather than allowing her to come and pick me up again.  

Extraordinary how these things have come about since my first tentative ideas back in January and February. Extraordinary to sit nattering with A over dinner. My current idea for writing, the reason why I am here, the fact that I am meeting a few other familiar-faced actresses in the coming weeks, has stemmed from corresponding with her these past months and her informal guidance and observations. She is quite sanguine about her life as an actress, and almost as much time has passed since she retired as she spent working. She’s tremendously supportive of what I am doing, and for that I am extremely grateful. 

So, Saturday stretches out before me, and I have a very long ‘to do’ list. Hopefully I shall also be catching up with my friend G, who I have known for almost 20 years since we met at a community theatre group in Hackney. Where the **** does the time go? This evening am off to a one-woman show by an actress I shall be meeting later during my trip – throughout the gestation and development of this whole idea, Rob has, of course, been hugely supportive and interested in each step, but when I told him that I will be meeting the aforementioned actress, he was ecstatic. As I said, we all have our personal heroes and favourites, and this woman was one of his!