The night began with a new friend who writes and produces music coming over to hear me play a song, which was a little rough because my voice has not completely returned after a horrible cold/demon wrecked my throat a couple weeks ago. I made my way through the song in time to snap a few pictures of another friend getting ready for her new band's first live show.
Silya is from Norway, lives in New York, and has been staying with us while she records her music here in Hollywood. I suppose you could call her a jet-setter. She is an incredible talent and I was very much looking forward to seeing her show.
The performance space is about 3 blocks from my apartment, so after Silya left to do her sound check and I said goodbye to our other friend, me, my husband Dan, and our roommate Matt walked to see the show. When we got to this place which shall remain nameless, there was no one in line. We ran into a couple people we knew coming out, but no one else was going in. When we approached the 3 people guarding the door, we were asked, "Are you on the list?" I was a little surprised by the question because Silya had not mentioned a list and the people we knew who had just come out said there were only around 12 people inside. We said that we weren't sure, but that we would give them our names so they could check. Then they said, "There is no list." And that's when I knew ... Hollywood was happening.
Some establishments in Hollywood have a nasty habit of trying to make you think that you are lucky that they let you give them your money. Chew on that for a minute. I'm from New England; this has never gone down with me. It happens mostly with night clubs, but also with some restaurants, and occasionally with live music venues. Nightclubs are the worst; they "build lines" outside to make it look like the place is packed while your friends inside are texting you that the place is dead. Like I said, I've never been down with that. If I sense even the slightest BS or snobbery at the door, I leave immediately. I would much rather change my plans for that night and give my hard-earned money to a place that doesn't insult my intelligence. "Gator don't play no sh*t!" (Name that movie.)
As a musician with many friends who are also musicians I know how hard it is to get people to come out to see a show, so I decided to swallow my indignation and try to get in to the place that shall remain nameless. The 3 stooges at the door told us that they would let us in if Silya - the performer who was preparing to go on stage - would come outside and get us. We tried calling her, but understandably she didn't answer. Dan asked if one of the 3 stooges could go in and get her, but of course, they said no because all 3 were needed to guard the door that no one but the 3 of us were trying to enter. It was at this point that we rolled our eyes and walked away. A few minutes later, Silya called, but it was too late; there was no way any of us were going to contribute to the 3 stooges' paychecks. As I have heretofore indicated, "Gator don't play no sh*t." (When Silya got back to our place later that night, she told a harrowing tale of how she had to fight with the 3 stooges to get everyone, including her music publisher, in to see her show.)
Dan, Matt, and I made our way to another bar where Hollywood happened again, but in a much different way. The bouncer welcomed us with a smile; the place was packed with people listening to a band that was playing fantastic music; and we ran into a couple of people we had not seen in a long time. This city is full of surprises - some great and some decidedly not so great. I have learned if you're willing to keep looking, you'll find the great ones.
|View from of Hollywoodland from my balcony.|