bloggie blog

My car was filthy. Dangerously dirty when you consider the summer driving phenomenon in LA that involves lots of evening sun hitting your windshield. As is my wont, I washed my car today to celebrate an acting victory from last week, and as I was washing, got the phone call for an acting victory for next week. My car is clean again!

Before today, it had been a long time since I washed my car. I’ve never gone anywhere near that long without washing my car — in southern California. It was filthy. It was gross. It had a disgustingly thick film of filmy thickness all over it.

“Oh well,” I’d said to myself. “I’ll save a few bucks, it’s not hurting the car. Maybe I’ll wash it to celebrate my next booking, maybe not, we’ll see.” I didn’t really make a hard and fast promise to myself about that. I’m not saying that. But I am saying this: today I washed my car. Know what I’m saying?

I hate them. They are ugly. They advertise garbage, including acting and VO resources for the stupid. They take up parking spaces, or — grrr — some drive during rush hour, worsening traffic. You hate them, too, all of you except for my readers who are soulless.

Well. All we need to do is follow San Francisco’s lead, but from Ban Billboard Blight we learn that it’s been 2 years and 17 days since it came up in LA City Council. See Mobile Billboards: Bringing More Air Pollution, Traffic Congestion, Parking Problems.

Let us pray for progress. In addition to problems of pollution and other inefficiencies, there’s the visual vexation of blight. I moved here from Boston and the better aesthetics of driving around most larger streets there is something I haven’t forgotten yet.

I remember a sense of bewilderment when I went to my first Trader Joe’s many years ago — somewhere north of San Diego, maybe in Poway or Rancho Bernardo? It seemed like a place for twig-munching, wine-sipping hippies, and I wasn’t any of those things. My view of food has shifted a lot since then. The shift is a familiar path you might have taken, too: less and less McDonald’s, more and more twigs. But for the first time ever, I’m cursing TJ’s all week long. Gasp! I know! “Gasp!” is the right reaction to the headline of this post. But … it’s not really Joe’s fault, it’s more about carbonation.

Here’s the thing. Due to my unpredictable, voice-oriented career, I’ve kept bottles of water in my trunk for a long time now — not to use all the time, but when I forget to hydrate and I need a backup stat! Tuesday, I happened by a TJ’s as I hurried, parched, to a commercial audition, so I ran in and grabbed the first thing I could find: a case of Trader Joe’s Sparkling Mineral Water. Bad move. Every single one of these large bottles makes an enormous mess whenever I open it, no matter how cautious I am — and no matter how long my car has been stationary. Yup, I even tried opening one first thing in the AM. And the “lime” taste is only meh, anyway. So, back to plain bottled water. And back to Trader Joe’s … I have a long, long grocery list of many favorites I’m out of!

As of this week, I am now driving a new car (new to me). It’s called Al. It’s a Nissan Altima, and although the official color is gray, it’s kind of a bluish gray, so Al is “blue steel.”

Anyway, Al has a keyless entry thing. If my fob is on my person, I can get in or open the trunk or start the car, just by pushing a button. You cannot. The button is just sitting there, but if you walk up to it and push it, nothing happens. If I walk up to it and push it, I’m in. You push it, you are zapped dead.

I feel like a member of a secret society! And yes, I just said, “If my fob is on my person.”

As you may recall, I turned in my old car on Monday. I’m getting another car Saturday morning, leaving me with five days of carlessness in between. In LA.

A few observations:

1. It’s been pretty damn hot this week. Much sweating, much swearing.
2. I’m glad I had a free 5-day pass, one that they give out pretty liberally to people new to town.
3. Boardings: subway, 2; bus, 17.
4. Walking: too much given No. 1 above. But it’s good for me, so no biggie.
5. Rides mooched: 1.
6. Meetings late to: 1. Meetings missed: 2.

It’s the last one that’s the killer. And ultimately unacceptable. You have to allot too much time for early or late buses, is what it comes down to. And sometimes you have to wait in full sun. And those GD motorcycle drivers are such D-bags. And you have to pay close attention the entire time you’re waiting for a bus, keeping an eye for the next bus; those MFers will drive right past you otherwise. It’s just not right.

Sure, some routes are easy-peasy, maybe even easier than riding a car, especially if it involves only the subway, but the pricing scheme in LA is too steep — transfers are not free! Too steep except for long-term passes, so the system discourages casual use. Another huge problem. If I could change the world….

“Some people need to learn how to park.” That was the relatively polite commentary I made early this morning as I walked up my street, passing a young woman trying to fit her small car into a large space. The space was plenty big enough, so her friend jumped out to help guide her. Aargh! If I couldn’t parallel park worth beans, I’d practice. That’s all I’m saying.

That experience was on my mind as I pulled into the lot of the Starbucks in Los Feliz a few hours later. I took the back way, and was pleased with myself for knowing where that alley led, but the one empty spot was next to an atrociously parked Prius. I’m having a good day, so it set me off only just a little. The owner was coming out just as I was exiting my car and she immediately fessed up to a bad parking job. This is the right behavior to make me not care any more. I made a joke back to her, it’s all good, I’m on my way. And then I looked a second time, as she seemed familiar. “I know you, don’t I?” Now, besides fessing up to her bad parking, she also didn’t pretend to be nobody. Two for two. (Two for three, I should say. She missed one point for the crappy parking job.) A little conversation ensued with Annabelle Gurwitch. You remember her from “Dinner and a Movie” on TBS. I remember her from a podcast on Fired! that I listened to a few months ago.

I’m not used to having conversations with people I recognize, but that’s two days in a row. (Yesterday’s will remain un-blogged.) Conversations are not always appropriate, but they’re better than “I love [insert favorite show here]!” Annabelle and I agreed that times are tough. She’s into writing exclusively these days, so even though the timing is better than ever to revive Fired!, it ain’t gonna happen. Too busy writing to revive Fired! … or to park well, wink wink. And when I said I was an actor, she said gloomily, “How’s that going?” Since I’m still on the six-month upbeat kick, I was all “Great!” … but eventually I did agree that the numbers are not good. No worries, though. I feel better about life because of all the savings I have in the stock market.

In brief: it was nice chatting, Annabelle!

When I came out of the Starbucks, her small grey Prius that had been parked at a horrible angle was gone. In its place was a small yellow Honda Fit — parked at a horrible angle. Aargh! You small-car drivers need to learn to park!