Hurray for Hollywood

California and I are not friends.

We met face to face for the first time in 1999 when I went to a work conference in San Francisco. I know Tony Bennett left his heart there. I also know he has herpes so it kind of ruins that whole sentiment for me. But I was psyched to see San Francisco for myself regardless of Bennett and his social disease.

The conference was at the end of June and the temperatures in San Francisco, particularly at night, were similar to what one would expect in Alaska. The people I was with from Canada kept saying “We left Canada for this?” because back home they were having a very enjoyable heat wave and they had come to California expecting some of the same.

There were also a lot of birds. I mean, a lot. And me and birds don’t mix. And when our cab pulled up to a fancy restaurant for dinner a rat ran right in front of us. In daylight. On a crowded street. I really didn’t like that. Especially because I was brutally hung over.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time in San Francisco because I was with Holly on the first of many Holly and Molly business conference/crazy hijinks excursions but I knew straight away that California was not for me. I’m Biggie. California is Tupac. Enough said.

In 2002, I went back to California for another work conference, this time in LA. I could not have been more excited about going. Regardless of where I stand in the rap star death war, I love movies. I love celebrities. I love sunshine. So, of course, I was going to love Los Angeles. I was wrong. We stayed in the banking district, which after dark becomes the hookers and pimps district. That was mistake number one.

Our friend April made mistake number two which was going to a strip club with a guy named Favio where her purse was stolen. She was sharing a room with Holly and couldn’t get in because Holly was out partying with a fat guy she picked up (note: the fatness of this guy is debatable since our manorexic friend Mills labeled him that and we were all pretty drunk and just ran with it….for years. In truth he was probably 5 or 10pounds overweight but I will always remember him as morbidly obese).

Holly met the questionable overweight guy at a party we went to in Venice Beach. It was a party sponsored by our conference and hosted by a vendor so we expected to be treated well. We were wrong. Apparently someone had tattooed “East Coast” on our foreheads and no one wanted to talk to us. Mills and I met a girl who asked what we did for a living and when we said we worked for The Discovery Channel she actually laughed in our faces and said “Good one. That’s hilarious”, like we had made up it up and it was the lamest job ever. This from a girl we learned sold jewelry on the pier in Santa Monica. It must have been opposite day because I think we all know who the loser was in that scenario and it sure as hell wasn’t me or Mills. By the end of the week, I was sitting in The Ivy with my boss moaning “I have got to get back to Maryland”. I hated LA.

But in 2003, we had another conference so I had to go back. That time I did it right. We stayed in West Hollywood, and I planned our internal meetings at the House of Blues which was awesome because while we were having a conference call with Asia, Cold Play was playing a free concert for some radio station downstairs and we could hear them through the floor. Chaka Khan was staying in our hotel. We saw celebrities everywhere we went. I spoke at the big conference as the host of a panel that gave out beer. Holly and I got drunk in a van with some randoms and our pregnant friend drove us home while we belted out “I want it that way” by the Backstreet Boys. It was a rocking trip. And LA did me a lot more justice than it had before. But staying in a smooth hotel with your friends and writing off your every drink for a week is going to be fun anywhere. Living there and having to pay for your dinner at Ryan Seacrest’s restaurant is a different story, right?

That same summer, I also went back to San Francisco for my friend Elisa’s wedding. Her wedding was actually in Carmel which is beautiful but we flew into San Francisco for a night because Bobby had never been there. Again, it was freezing (this time in July!) and full of crazy aggressive birds.

We drove from San Francisco to Carmel for the wedding which is a beautiful drive but it does make you wonder why there are so many garlic farms out there. Could it be because of the vampires and not the Rob Patterson kind. The Lost Boys kind. Remember when Jason Patric’s grandfather said “That’s the one thing I never liked about Santa Carla – all the damn vampires.” The line seems suspiciously true after you’ve driven from San Francisco to Carmel.

The day after the wedding, which was beautiful, we then drove to Oakland to fly home. We had to spend a night there. No offense to MC Hammer, but Oaktown sucks. It’s dirty, it’s scary, and it’s full of pigeons. No thanks!

In 2004, Mills and I went back to LA with another colleague to interview a snake guy for some promos. The snake guy was ridiculous, but I have a feeling he would have been like that in any city so I can’t blame that on LA. I can blame LA for getting me hijacked by some insane cab driver who stole my cell phone and crank called all my friends. And I can blame LA for The Dan Band show we went to where Mills got puked on by Boston Rob from Survivor. Yes, I can blame LA for those things and I do.

I haven’t been back to California since 2004, but it looks like I’m going to have to make the trip again because California did the unthinkable today and stole my best friend. Yep, the Holly of Holly and Molly headed West with her husband this morning. And after my experiences out there, you’d think I’d be worried about her. No, I’m not worried about Holly. I’m worried about California. They have no idea what’s about to hit them. If anyone can charm LA into submission it’s Holly. I anticipate when I visit next spring she’ll have sung some sort of Disney Princess song and tamed every bird in the state. All those wannabe actors and models who have cool jobs like selling jewelry on the pier will try to shun her, but her constant smiling and upbeat nature will beat them down and they’ll have to befriend her. It will go against everything they stand for, but they won’t be able to stop themselves. A Los Angeles with Holly in it is maybe a Los Angeles I can get behind. Well, not behind technically because you know out there if you “get behind something” Richard Gere reaches down to stick a gerbil in your butt, but you know what I mean. It’s finally Hollywood. And if Holly would, then so would I.