I may not ever really see myself living on the west coast, but since I've determined that Burning Man is going to be a thing for me in the forceable future I decided I should really explore more, figure out some better west coast logistics, maybe get a storage unit, or look at a car/parking/RV situation out there.
I booked and laid out my travel plans in early June with every intention to take a month and a half to research my options as to what sights I wanted to take in, and what logistical tasks I could explore while out there. None of that happened unfortunately.
My 13 year old cat Jacob fell ill July 4th weekend. I spent over 9 hours in the ER hoping against hope that he'd pull through. To the surprise of both myself and the wonderful veterinarians that did everything they could for him, I was able to take him home. But only few days later he began to decline again, and eventually with an incredibly heavy heart I had to let him go.
Basically any plans I was trying to put together that month went out the window with grief. So instead faced with looming flight dates, I just decided to wing it.
LA:
I stayed in a quaint LA suburb near Hollywood with one of my oldest friends and her wonderful family. I worked through the day, and in the evening would basically prowl aground one place or another.
Santa Monica:
Let's never mind the damn beach. OMG the food. THE FOOD. I had the most indulgent, gluttonous (not to mention most expensive) YOLO meal in my life.
Not just Wagyu beef... but a flight of Wagyu beef!
Me: That's OK I want this thing still mooing in Japanese when it gets to me.
Each glorious chunk of chuck had a mysterious back story. Like on this farm the cows are raised in freezing temperatures, then on this one they get fed beer and do cow yoga, finally these other cows meditate in the mountains in order to become a higher form of beef. I don't care, each bite was GLORIOUS.
Then to cap things off I chose an oyster. But not just any oyster.
How do you even attack this thing? It's defense is perfect.
This is the Omega Oyster, the embodiment by which all other Oysters aspire to. Tremble in it's presence. Sure, go ahead and knock the whole damn mess into your pie hole in one gulp like a champ. No one but you and the internet are watching.
Downtown LA is not my thing:
First I went to Little Tokyo because that is my thing and I was not disappointed. Tons of cute little shops, and plenty of food. I don't understand Japan's obsession with corn dogs, but hey put anything on a stick and I'll eat it. I was a little intimidated by the conveyor belt sushi bar though. Like I'd be afraid to let any delicious food item rotate by me. There was a line anyway.
Once I got my fill there I decided to explore more of downtown LA with a few bar recommendations from my hosts.
I don't know what this place looked like pre-COVID, but walking through it felt rather desolate. Similar to parts of the Back Bay in Boston where blocks of restaurants would be closed down, or boarded up. Also, it's worth noting that LA is not very walkable per say. You really do need to have a car to get around here. I'm much more used to living in a tightly packed urban environment where my car mostly collects dust/pollen.
The Uber driver did take me past Skid Row which is similar to Massachusetts's "Meth Mile" on "Mass and Cass". Tent cities in major metropolitan areas are unfortunately becoming increasingly common. This isn't a blue state vs red state thing. Wherever there are major population centers: poverty, drugs, and crime will always be a major issue in America. We're all looking for a silver bullet here.
But I do hate it when someone from east bumfuck middle of nowhere criticizes a large city for not figuring out it's homelessness problem because they don't see any homeless people where they live... that's because no one wants to gravitate to your one horse town with shit resources. It's easy to criticize when your own town doesn't even have stop lights.
Still beats living in Florida.
There's a dichotomy here though. As soon as I went one block over from a boarded up restaurant on a dirty street there was a swanky office building that had an elaborate bar on one of the top floors complete with rooftop lounge where I suspect a lot of workers in the area grab a liquid lunch. This wasn't my scene unfortunately. Collared shirts, women who looked like they were poured into their dresses, and I'm over here in a David Bowie T-shirt looking like an elder goth.
I usually like to interact with people at bars, but I could tell this was going to be a sip your fancy cocktail in peace kind of night.
Writers Strike:
One day while working from a Starbucks I went for a walk to find some lunch, and by chance passed by a Sony studio lot. There was no one outside except for the gate guard. Then all of a sudden *BAM* protestors began filing out of cars and Ubers holding signs. Even though I don't make any money off of what I create, as a writer myself I raised my fist in solidarity.
The sound of honking cars passing by did make my lunch a lot noisier, but small price to pay for progress.
Venice Beach:
An old friend of mine who I also attend Burning Man with came up from the OC to meet me. We headed off to check out Venice Beach. Next thing I know I had a margarita the size of my head with a cocktail mix so sweet it tried to give me diabetes. I couldn't make it through the entire birdbath margarita, and a "to go" cup was out of the question.
Unlike downtown I actually like how gritty this place is. Touristy beaches with long stretches of stores should be a little rough around the edges and filled with merchandizing of questionable quality. It reminded me of some of the beaches in Maine. Only there is no off season here.
We walked the strip, breathed in what people were peddling, saw a parade, and took many pictures. My friend explained to me that the state is considered so damn big that number of laws are difficult to enforce sometimes. Which is why you get the random guy walking around peddling weed and mushrooms. There's like 15 head shops and dispensaries around here, but you're going to go for someone's random pocket weed? Also look I'm adventurous, but why are you buying shrooms from some rando with Ziplock bags likely half filled with shiitake?
I probably should have bought a T-shirt or something.
Hollywood Bowl:
Let's get some culture in while we're at it. My hosts took me to a Tchaikovsky special hosted by the LA Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl. I really liked this place's BYOB and picnic atmosphere. You get: a good sandwich, some good friends, some good wine (or in my case some seltzers because I'm trying to keep it classy), and you pick a nice spot to enjoy your chosen company before heading in.
The performance was spectacular and the fireworks presentation was immaculate.
With the first leg of the trip done I said goodbye to my gracious hosts and headed out to SF.
San Francisco:
No offence but if SF was a candle it would be called: "Urine with a hint of Ocean Mist Breeze".
I'd been to San Fran before, but mostly for work which means I spent most of my time in a trade show trapped in the Moscone Center. Even though this was still a "workcation" I had a lot more time to myself to explore what I always considered to be "Boston West".
I stayed in a hotel in Union Square which is a nicer section of SF that does abut the Tenderloin which is... well not the best part of the city. First, the SFPD is ever present. It didn't feel like a militant police state, but there was almost literally a cop on every corner. I also witnessed several hotels hire someone to pressure wash the streets outdoor of their humble establishments to spruce up the place.
The area I stayed had no less than 4-5 diners within walking distance. Some open 24hrs just incase I wake up at 3AM and really need some bacon. I shamelessly had breakfast for lunch almost everyday from a different diner just because I could. I think I've tried almost every variation of eggs benedict at this point. I want a place to come up with the equivalent of a bacon and coffee IV.
Elvis! What did we tell you about singing on the ceiling?! Now get down from there, or we're gonna get the spray bottle again! Bad Elvis!
I did go to some fancy restaurants, but I also tried to sample the fast food I can't get out east. My favorite was Mr. Charlie's which is a vegan funhouse mirror bastardization of McDonalds. The one I went to was almost directly across from an actual McDonalds, and I don't know how they don't get their asses sued. I mean just look at this.
Not a lawyer, but I'm guessing this pushes parody and brand infringement law. I'm willing to bet this is more McDonalds not wanting to create a Barbra Streisand effect around the company. In other words, the minute they lean their full legal weight on them everyone is going to want to know what the fuss is about, and why a corporate beef dealing giant wants to crush a vegan fast food chain with only 2 stores.
I hate to admit it but I actually prefer their Big Mac to the real deal. The Impossible Burger patty was indistinguishable from it's beef counterpart. They also somehow mastered super melty vegan cheese which is usually made from bullshit like coconut milk and sadness with all the melt factor of wet cardboard. I don't know what amount of witchcraft and chemistry went into this, but it was still a great take.
A lot of the bars and other places to eat had gimmicks. Like this rack of rotating booze:
I had a lovely discussion with a couple from Austin Texas. They came to this bar specifically to peruse their massive aged whiskey selection.
Japan Town:
If LA's Little Tokyo was a vibrant expression of Asian culture complete with cute shops and inspired architecture that you could walk around outdoors and explore, SF's Japan Town is a confusingly designed ugly ass mall set on a lonely road with a barren wasteland outside it. Don't get me wrong the food choices were astounding, it just felt like I was being fed down an odd tourist route, like a more confusing Japanese version of IKEA.
I still could not believe I couldn't find a decent pair of cat ears to wear. Seriously, you had one job Asian cultural junk sellers...
This is the part where I complain about the first world problems caused by petty crime:
Here's how bad the crime/homeless situation in SF is. I walked into a Target to buy a mouse for my new tablet. I was immediately welcomed to witnessing an officer taking down and cuffing an alleged thief. When I bought the mouse I had to buy it immediately in the electronics center. I didn't mind but I asked if I could include my energy drink in the purchase. "No, sorry." Apparently that register isn't approved for energy drinks. So in order to purchase it, I'd have to wait in another regular check out line. I only have 2 items. This is dumb.
The CVS near me was locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Most of the items required you to press a button to get an associate to unlock it. I looked at the ChapStick section. I could grab 3 separate individual lip balms or have to call over a human to unlock a 3 pack. I always err on the side of not including more humans in a situation so I went with the 3 individual sticks for around the same price.
Getting in/out of a major department store that wasn't directly connected to the nearby shopping center was less of a "Costco quickly eyeballs your receipt and cart" affair, and more of a "You're entering a concert/theme park and we need to rummage through your entire bag for explosives" kind of thing.
But other than that I did find the area to be gloriously weird.
I mean hey you do you San Fran... don't let me get in the way
I generally don't need more than a dive bar to keep me happy:
So first off my boss who lives in SF full time recommended this dive bar to me. This bar is so shitty they literally don't even have a sign out front. That's the depths in which they don't give a fuck. It's like you either know this place exists via some secret decoder ring, or you don't. Their motto is something similar to "the best kept little bar in the worst kept part of town".
Everything was sticky. Like movie theater floor come to life sticky.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Cat stuff generally follows me:
I mean just look at this:
Sir. Motherfucking Reginald Cattipus Whiskers the 3rd.
Quick reminder that caracals are wild. Seriously don't get one.
Pet Owner: But I love my caracal! Look at the little tufts on his ears!
Caracal: HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
Don't get a tiger either, because that comes with a whole Netflix special.
This is supposed to be an Irish alehouse. So naturally after eating my bangers n' mash I'm greeted with the world's most recognizable FRENCH black cat judging me while I pee...
I included this bento box lunch solely for the Hello Kitty soy sauce.
Drinks with an old friend:
I met a friend from middle school (you read that right) at a beachfront bar for drinks. We caught up on things, and enjoyed high-end tequila together, while also enjoying all the smells that San Fran has to offer.
Please see my urine candle comment from earlier.
I got a work out in:
Just meandering around the city is a work out.
Not pictured, my calves screaming.
I'm not sure who looked at the hilly nature of the city's layout and was like: "Sure I can put that building on a 45 degree angle incline. We'll just make it work."
I didn't do the whole trolly this time around, and I've yet to go anywhere on the BART public transit system, but we'll get there.
Onto Reno and BRC:
So maybe this trip was just one big preamble before I go to Black Rock City and Burning Man itself. But I really enjoyed my time out there.
I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm tied to this other coast by both work and play. Case in point I'm being shipped off to Redmond briefly next month. You could look at this trip as either the worst timing, or the best timing to get away given my loss and unpreparedness. I was definitely conflicted in that regard, but at the end of the day this was all about celebrating life, and enjoying myself in a different environment.
Until next time.
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