My buddy Maxx was in town from the East coast and requested the “Chops Tour of LA”. Of course, I happily obliged. I absolutely love this city, and love to show off its landmarks and hidden treasures to visitors. Unfortunately, our time was limited to one Friday evening, so I had to truncate my list of “LA points of interest” down quite a bit. However, both LA and I kept it interesting.
When friends visit, there are 3 main things they usually insist on seeing while here in Southern California; the beach, Hollywood proper with a view of the sign, and downtown Los Angeles. Everything else they may get a chance to see is “bonus”.
Stop 1: Venice Beach
Of all the beaches here, I usually recommend Venice beach boardwalk. It’s sort of a “Cliff’s Notes” area of LA that offers a huge cross section of the SoCal beach cities hotties, weirdos, the rich, vagrants, surfers, and with both cheap and expensive shopping. It is quite famous for, and because of, all these converging scenes and demographics, actually.
It’s also been a muse for generations of writers and musicians. Books and songs have referenced it countless times, and the genesis of The Doors began there. The boardwalk is also featured in decades of movies and TV shows, usually showcasing an array of strolling citizens, street vendors, artists of all kinds from fine to graffiti, and street performers. Of course there are also the countless bodybuilders of Muscle Beach. Arguably the most famous locale in Venice.
Stop 2: Hollywood
When in Hollywood, visitors want to be able to see the Hollywood sign. So, I take them down to the intersection of Hollywood & Highland where the 5 story high white bold letters are clearly visible and easily photographed. Plus they get to see another famous monument at the same time, the Hollywood Walk of Fame. The only place to really see any stars in Hollywood.
Unless celebrities are walking into Jimmy Kimmel’s backstage door, or going to a premier at the TCL Chinese theater (formerly Grauman’s Chinese theater), you won’t see anyone famous. Julia Roberts and Tom Hardy aren’t strolling that area of Hollywood on a Wednesday looking for bargain 3 for $10 “I HEART LA” shirts, grabbing a bucket of wings at Hooters, or getting photos with the mix-bag “character carnivale” in front of the theater.
I couldn’t meet up with Maxx on his beach adventure earlier that day, but caught up with him after work in the evening. I took him to one of my favorite historic Hollywood locations; Hollywood Blvd’s last dive bar, The Frolic Room. A former speakeasy ginn mill from the days of Hollywood noir, that secretly provided illegal libations to the film industry’s golden era of actors from Gable to Garland within its long but narrow walls.
We walked through the doorway vestibule, passing under the neon sign installed in the late 40’s by then owner Howard Hughes, walking over the rubber floor mat covering where an unsolved doorman murder took place a little over 10 years ago. The atmosphere in the bar is still thick with ghosts and stale nicotine from when smokers could actually light up in bars.
We ordered a couple beers and planted ourselves on bar stools in front of the famous Al Hirschfeld mural depicting Golden Hollywood that has papered the wall since 1963. Of course, it is now preserved behind clear wall length plastic to shield it from vandalism and vomit.
Because of the confluence of its location, seedy east end Hollywood Blvd, yet the opulent Pantages theater is right next door, also once owned by Hughes, the crowd in the Frolic Room ranges from shabby to chic. A cliched and tired description at best I know, but also extremely accurate.
Maxx and I downed our cheap happy hour PBR’s as we caught up on each others’ lives, his trip to the beach earlier, and discussed Hollywood and some of its history.
The small bar we were sitting in, a true hole in the wall, has seen every incarnation of Hollywood since it opened its doors in 1930, from prohibition, to glamour, to the era of sleaze, to modern day as Hollywood is receiving a gentrified facelift and renaissance to spackle the cracks plastering over the crimes of its past in hopes of attracting modern tourists who represent little more than dollar signs to this city. It is even rumored to be the last place the Black Dahlia was seen alive. (NOTE: In all honesty, there are several bars in the LA area that claim to be the last place the Black Dahlia was seen. However, the honor most likely goes to the bar at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles.)
Stop 3: Downtown LA
Next, he wanted to head downtown, so we walked across the street to the underground train station and cruised the Metro into the City of Angels.
We took the elevator at the famous Ace Hotel for a great (and free) view of DTLA from it’s rooftop bar. From 14 floors above the city we could see the 110 traffic flowing, the Griffith Observatory perched small in the distance opaquely obscured behind a layer of smog, and no less than 9 cranes hovering over the skeletons of lofts and apartments being built for future residents. A testament to the rebirth and growth downtown Los Angeles is experiencing, disguising the grit that once was. However, we decided to skip the $14 cocktail offerings, and go for a less pricey beer in a different location.
I suggested we head over to Clifton’s Cafeteria in LA’s Historic Core for cheaper suds. When I mention “Clifton’s Cafeteria” to visitors, or even almost anyone from LA, people always pause with a questioning look on their faces that seems to convey the sentiment, “We’re in LA and you’re taking me to a cafeteria?”. Hold on, let me explain. It’s not mac n’cheese, Salisbury steak, and a variety of Jell-O cubes with suspended pineapple shavings.
Clifton’s is multilevel and eclectic. The bottom floor is an actual cafeteria, but with professional chef prepared food that includes a prime rib carving station, and made to order omelets. Above that are three floors of bars. One like a redwood forest and the other has a very dark classic gothic feel to it. Plus the hidden tiki “speakeasy” called Pacific Seas that had recently opened on the 4th floor.
We walked into Clifton’s and the first floor cafeteria area was closed, so we explored the two levels above. On the “forest level”, a giant Redwood tree is the centerpiece and looks as if it’s holding the building up with its thick trunk and ages old branches. There are also large, life size dioramas of taxidermy lions, a buffalo, a bear, and an assortment of other woodland creatures.
The goal though, was to show Maxx Clifton’s latest attraction, the new speakeasy tiki bar Pacific Seas Tiki Room.
I led him over to a giant full length mirror whose only tell that it’s actually a door are the smudges of handprints on one side left by patrons in the know. Otherwise, the mirror-door blends with the rest of the decor.
I pushed the mirror open, feeling somewhat like Willy Wonka opening the chocolate factory vault for my visiting buddy, to reveal the hostess behind a dais with a reading light illuminating the nights’ guest list, and a very large security guard standing hulkishly to the side.
She greeted us and asked how she could help. I told her we were there to go to the new tiki bar to have a drink. She informed us we would not be permitted to go up the stairs to the new 4th floor bar since it is Friday night. The reason? Because on Fridays and Saturdays, the Pacific Seas Tiki Room hosts their “elevated look” nights. I had my suspicions, but asked her to define the term “elevated look” for us anyway.
Somewhat sheepishly, almost embarrassed, she told us that “elevated look” meant a classier dress than “baseball caps and logo printed t-shirts”, which is what we were wearing. She was extremely kind and apologetic though. It wasn’t like in the movies where the grungy are looked up and down with condescending side-eye, then denied entry into the party. We were actually a little surprised by how gracious she was.
We told her not to worry about it. We were, after all, dressed like typical dudes, and would not have been comfortable in a fancier “elevated” environment. Plus, the legendary “LA rejection” based on location and dress code made a much more interesting story for Maxx to tell when he got home (and me for this blog post). By no means were we offended.
So we went to one of the other levels with lower dress code standards, and had a $6 beer to laugh it off.
Cheers!
