Looking for Larry David: On the Road in LA
August 17, 2005
Coming to you from the West Coast, where I discovered a big red cable in our hotel room that had Internet oozing out of it. When I hooked it up to my PortaBlog 2000, well by golly the Internet just oozed right on in.
First of all, Molly the baby was found to be snoozing comfortably in the most adorable Moses basket you ever saw. A five-day-old baby has the power to make grownups stand there slack jawed with awe. So slack jawed, in fact, that I completely forgot to take a picture of her. There are, it turns out, moments so profound that they overtake even the powerful instinct to blog them.
I have to tell you, Los Angeles is a ton of fun. We’re not sipping from the cup that is LA; we’re chugging from the beer bong that is LA. This morning: the King Tut exhibit, La Brea Tar Pits, California Science Center, back at the hotel by 2 o’clock. Do realize how unlike us this amount of activity is? Do you know? Today is one of the few days that I would call Buffy Worthy. Buffy would have a day like this and snipsnap have six more just like it. We, on the other hand, will be watching hotel movies and having the minibar for dinner from here on out.
Of all the sights, it was universally agreed that the highlight of all three museums was
this bubble. Never mind the priceless treasures of ancient Egypt, or Hubbo’s high-wire bicycle ride. We could have watched the methane bubbling up through the tar all day. So. Odd. And to think that they’re still pulling bones out of the tar pits.
Another Pit Stop, at Knit Cafe
At least I had stocked up on knitterly fortitude the night before at Knit Cafe. I managed to sneak away for a little hang-out time with like-minded folk. Among the many highlights:
Julia and Mary Heather made the most cordial of hosts. I was so glad to discover a giant pile of Loop-de-Loop handknits which I’d missed seeing when the trunk show came through Nashville. It gave me the chance to
practice the fine art of suckin’ it in while the clearly-not-needing-to-suck-it-in Julia took a picture of me wearing the Cabled Riding Jacket that I so covet. One conclusion: I’m no Small, people. I’m also not sure there’s a day in the year when Nashville weather would require a handknit so chunky. But how cool to see all those Teva Durham designs in the flesh. I don’t need to do Fair Isle short rows now that I’ve laid eyes on them. Such a relief!
Speaking of relief, I did the grim work of finishing the ends of Fern. The trick is to plan for a four-hour plane ride and bring nothing but the crummy project that has the ends. I finished up at Knit Cafe, sitting in
the very same chair that only moments before had been the seat of a Famous Star of Television and Silver Screen. I am sworn to secrecy, but I’ll give you a clue: her name is _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. If anybody guesses correctly, you’ll get a special surprise. But I’ll have to shoot you first.
I loved meeting Hope, an author of children’s books. Go ahead and buy her award-winning The Way a Door Closes. I know I will.
I limited my yarn grab to
a little Habu snack, a speckly cotton that looks exactly like shredded paper. (Yes, that’s Johnny Depp leering into our windows from the building-sized billboard. Buzz off, ya FREAK.)
We’re off to find sushi. Wish you were here!