AUGUST 1991

It’s Summer in Los Angeles. You can tell by the late sun piercing through the clouds. This is a seasonal phenomenon. It’s actually moody in the mornings. In summer I wake up in LA and sometimes I think it’s Autumn in New York. The day of the solar eclipse, the sun hadn’t yet burned off the dew in the basin. The day of the earthquake it was overcast and gray. For a place called sunny California, it’s a surprise to find that the sun doesn’t shine bright till noon. There is also this sameness to Summer, Spring and Fall. I’ve lived here for over a decade and I still get confused which time of year it is. I’m glad I grew up on the East Coast so I could know what seasons are. I miss all of them except for Winter – which is the other reason besides the “business” that I stay here. I hate cold. Cold weather makes me feel deprived: it’s psychological. As a kid growing up in the Bronx there was never enough heat in the radiator to warm the fifth floor walkup apartment where I lived. So Winter in Los Angeles is always comforting. I reel rich and safe. But I miss the rest of the year; leaves turning, flowers blooming and the long evening shadow walks.

I know LA has more environmental changes like the Fall fires and Winter floods, but it’s not like the East with it’s more interesting wardrobe changes. Fashion is so much more important if you have to go through four different possibilities. I can buy Summer sale clothes to war all year round in LA. I have sweats from 1980 that you would think I bought last month. The casual style hasn’t changed. And if I want to go formal, I just put on a string of pearls and I’m dressed up. I also own a pair of jeans, a large selection of t-shirts and basic black everything else. This month I put on one of my best outfits: t-shirt, short bicycle pants, ankle socks, black oxford shoes, and an Armani jacket and went out to some clubs and openings.

I wanted to see what a younger crowd was into during the Summer months. See the real action. I asked Taj Johnson, one of the stars of Parker Lewis Can’t Lose, to hang. Friday night just before he went back into production, we planned to go out and about with some of his friends. Now Taj isn’t a typical teenager. In fact, he’s 20 and mature. So the evening wasn’t very different from the one I would spend with my own peers. But then my peers are of like mind, not age. Anyway, we started at 10pm. (This is the big difference hanging out with a younger crowd: they can eat later.) We went to dinner at Kate Matilini’s. A great baked potato. I like this place with its private booths; the discreet way you can come and go. I saw Bruce Springsteen and his wife Patty there with Steve Van Zandt and Bruce Hornsby. The waitress told me she was tipped very well. As they were leaving, Milli or Vanilli came in.

After dinner, we went to the China Club to hear The Ohio Players. They were as amazing as they were over a decade ago. Ran into Stephen Bishop and filmmaker Bill Fishman. For Taj and his friends, the evening was just starting. They were off to the clubs. I was exhausted and realized there is another big difference hanging out with a younger crowd: they can stay up later.

The following night, I went to see the closing of Philip Littel’s show at Theatre/Theater. I think he is Los Angeles’ best kept secret. He is a great theatrical cabaret performer. His songs, which he writes with Eric Cunningham, are profound, moving and funny. Because a couple of his band members were late, he broke out some champagne in the lobby. He’s also got style.

I went by Cafe Largo for an acoustic music showcase and saw music industry biggies, Elliot Roberts and Ron Vance. I don’t know whom they came to see, but I promised to get up to the Coconut Teaser for an ASCAP showcase to see the Kathy Fisher Band. Those guys should have seen her.

Later that week I was at the opening party for M. Butterfly. The after theater crowd at Roxbury included: stars Philip Anglim and A. Mapa, playwright David Henry Hwang, also Red Buttons, Tia Carrere, Mark Harris, Dustin Nugent, Lani Kazan, Wendy Jo Sperber, Neil Patrick Harris and Pia Zadora.

Finally, I’ve been spending a lot of time with poets again. Lots of readings all over town including Poetry In Motion, which has moved to Roxbury every Wednesday night. If you come by, you can buy The Hollywood Review, which is a collection of writers who have read with Poetry in Motion over the last three years. It’s a celebration of poetry. Something for those hazy, crazy mid-summer days to come.