Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Jane, Stop This Crazy Thing

Earlier this year, I was at my local gym on a gorgeous Los Angeles day. This was the kind of day you call your friends and family back east and brag about.

LA BRAGGER: You shoveled snow today? That’s too bad. It’s picture perfect here. I’m in shorts and a tank top and a butterfly landed on my hand just as 8 supermodels came up and asked me for directions. They thought the butterfly was sooo cute...or was that me they said was cute? I can’t remember but I’m hanging with them later so I’ll ask them then….Did I mention the smell of Lilac wafting through the air?

The weather is Los Angeles’ ace in the hole. It’s the one thing that almost offsets the traffic, earthquakes, mudslides, fires and flakes.

I completed my light-weight but high rep circuit training and was about to leave and soak up some LA rays. On my way out I noticed a long line for the treadmills. On a picture perfect day people were waiting in line to run in place. When I say perfect, I don’t mean hot. I mean perfect, 72 and sunny with a warm breeze. These people are akin to the mice that won’t leave their cage even when it’s open.

I didn’t even have a gym membership my first 5 years in LA. I only got one to get my light-weight pump on when I’m on the road.

These are the same people who go to a gallery to look at pictures of the landscape they just drove through to get to the gallery.

Please, no comments about impact on the knees. So Cal has more parks than you can shake a Red Vine at.

At least George Jetson had the whole no atmosphere excuse for his treadmill escapades. *

*Pic of George Jetson on the treadmill:

Monday, April 28, 2008

Pretty Crazy in Pink

You can file this under “Only in LA.” I recently saw a woman wearing all pink at a commercial audition. (We weren’t going in for the same thing) Everything was pink: her outfit, accessories and even her dog. Yes, she had a Pink dog. My uncanny ability to ease drop on nearby conversations was not well served. With no headphones or way to stop my brain and ears from teaming up, I was at their mercy to capture then process the Lady in Pink’s conversation. Without a hint of irony Ms Pink told another lady waiting that she dyes her dog with Beet juice once a month to achieve the Pink coat.

The really sad part: the other woman was intrigued and I’m pretty sure was making a mental note of the beet brew. So Ms Pink is spreading her gospel. I guess I’m spreading her gospel too. I trust none of my readers are going to use this beet juice knowledge for evil.

This is a clear case of style gone wild. There’s simply not enough hugging in this world. Please hug someone today. You might save a dog from a beet juice baptism and a doggie sweater. Now you know why the dog is Man’s best friend.

QSN: The dog was a poodle. But you knew that. I wrote a blog about beets a while back. It’s actually good to see someone find some use for beets, aka the most disgusting food known to man. **

**Blog Warp to my previous post on beets.

Friday, April 11, 2008

Trans Trucker

Last week I saw a guy in Starbucks in LA, a normal trucker looking guy with a beard, gray shirt and jeans on. What’s so odd about that you ask? Well, on top of what I already described this guy also had on a long brown wig and he had boobs. Is he butch or just the laziest transvestite in the history of men dressing fabulous? Other than the boobs and wig he was as normal and guy acting as a guy can be. It was like The Cable guy meets Rupaul. At one point he asked someone to watch his laptop while he went to the restroom, but without a hint of acknowledging his freakish appearance. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he had boobs. He even had a deep man voice he wasn’t trying to hide. There was nothing feminine about him other than, well…the boobage and wig. I felt like telling him he had boobs the same way you tell a friend they’ve got mustard on their cheek.

ME: Dude you got a little boob stuff going on right there….No, it’s still there…to the just let me get it…

The best part of living in LA and being from New York...not only did people not care they didn’t even acknowledge him. Trucker guy with boobs? Outstanding. Now back to my Rooibos tea.

Now contrast this guy with the things that make you self conscious. Not even close.