Yesterday I had what could be called an LA moment. I was on the phone to business setting up a lunch meeting while sitting in my car parked on a street about to go into a restaurant for another meeting I was about to have. All music related. As I’m one the phone, I notice a homeless man sitting in the dirt off the sidewalk in the corner of a walled area. He was about 20 yards from me. He sat up, which is what got my attention. Then he looked wearily around like either in a drunk stupor or a sleepy daze. He then proceeded to remove his pants. It was right then that I told the person on the phone “I’ve seen a lot of things in LA, but I’ve never seen this.” They asked me to describe it. Yikes.
The poor soul took his pants off, lifted his legs into the air while on his back and let his junk fly free in the wind. I did not take a picture. I also didn’t think it was a wise idea to confront him about his situation, he did seem like he could fly off the handle at any given moment despite his daze.
I’d liken it to a train wreck. You don’t want to look, but you’re unable to ignore it. Don’t ask if I took pictures. I didn’t. Nor did I take video.
Fortunately he did put his pants back on. Then laid back down to sleep.
The humor I impart today is that there is a song called “Always Something There To Remind Me” – this holds so true for Los Angeles.
LA Moment with Naked Eyes
I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me,
and every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be.
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
As shadows fall, I pass a small cafe where we would dance at night.
And I can’t help recalling how it how it felt to kiss and hold you tight
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
I was born to love her, and I’ll never be free.
You’ll always be a part of me.
If you should find you miss the sweet and tender love we used to share.
Just go back to the places where we used to go, and I’ll be there
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
I was born to love her, and I’ll never be free
You’ll always be a part of me.
’cause there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me.
Enjoy your day and may it be memorable!
It’s getting near that time of year again when there’s a little bit of madness in the air about expressing how you feel to someone else. Some people are really good at it. Others, not so much. I tend to fall in to the not-so-much category, but I do have a bit of a Valentine’s Day adventure that I can share.
A couple of years back I was making a hearty attempt to do something for someone on Valentine’s Day. I went so far as to write a song, as well as create a card for this woman. Attempted to make plans for the 14th and as such got minimal response. The play-it-by-ear response.
That evening came and went to no answer from said woman.
Around 9 p.m. I got a call from a friend inviting me out to watch a live music performance at the Farmer’s Market at the Grove in Los Angeles. Having been soured by earlier events, I agreed to hop in the car and head on out to the show. Of course with such a late start to the show my friend Stew and I got there for the last song. Our musician friends were happy to see a couple of extra faces despite being so late to the show.
As we were helping them pack up, an invitation was extended for us to shoot up to the “hills” for a Valentine’s Day party. Then the side debate started amongst a few of us. Should we, should we not? I was game for it. Eventually those of us who agreed all piled in a car to head to the party.
It started with an address and some poor directions which lead us to a strange road in the hills of Los Angeles above Studio City. Clearly the driver was lost. Out comes the iPhone and looking up the address on the map there took us through some more winding roads until we finally found the true destination. A spot on a very tight section of road where there was difficulty parking. Meaning a need to park a ways away and then walking to the party.
At the front door of the house we’re heading too I’m finally told that the house belongs to Lucinda Williams. I knew about her and her music thanks to my dad. He happens to be a big fan of hers. My friends knock on the door and a moment later it swings open.
My friends filter in first being greeted by Lucinda herself. Turns out several of them already knew her and visa versa. Bringing up the rear of the group I’m eventually greeted by Lucinda who takes me by the hand and looking up at me declares “I know you!” I stood there wondering to myself – really?!? She proceeds to tell me we’ve met before and I have to laugh. Reality was, we had never met until that point. Yet she was convinced that she knew me and I knew her. After a few moments of suspending reason and belief, she let me pass into the party to mingle amongst the other guests.
There were quite a few interesting peeps in attendance, including known rockstars, actors, actresses, and even other people of note. One woman I met happened to be the reason the song Afternoon Delight was written.
I’ll leave the uber juicy details of people there to my biography. Until then, I’m extending an early Happy Valentine’s Day and may it be a cool adventure.
p.s. – more song updates are coming very soon.