Why thank you, thank you. Thanks for that introduction, Spencer. About the only nice thing you've done for me... uhh... maybe.... well that's about the only thing for me. Anyway, in this blog post we will cruise down the legendary Sunset Blvd., see the homes of some of the most famous, and the most unknown to the 12 year old. Places where famous actors resided, got drunk, and then died from some overdose. Hollywood, the place that I so wanted to go even from early childhood of wanting to a be director and actor, but not as a tourist, as an actor. I had done some acting before our visit there, you know, starring in a church play, or doing small videos of written scripts I did at a small playhouse, getting some understanding of how the showbiz was, but basically no major motion picture or a ticket winning sold out Broadway. My friend Henry has, having a couple of minor roles and a few large roles in films done in Atlanta or the Southeast, not even away from home on the West Coast. Atlanta is getting a lot of film stuff now, from gangster movies (we held the cars of that in our warehouse while they edited and saw if they had to use them again) to Ben Ten and the Walking Dead. So maybe I could just stay here and get famous.
But back to the blog. We were going to be in Hollywood, and there was just a sliver of a chance,
but still a chance anyway, that I could be chosen as an extra or even audition, meet a star, and then stay there for a few months, get a movie, become a star myself, then become a real star, planted in the ground, on Mans Theatre. It was the smallest sliver of a chance or hope, like a nanobot or gene firmly in my system, but everyone needs hopes, right? I know I sound just like a wanna-be right now, but I have had this for all my life and am certainly a "going-to-be." Just wait, please just wait.
Just so you know all these events took place on the 14th of March.
Online we looked at which ones were the best tours to see the homes of stars and of different things like that, securing our last name in the tickets. All we had to go was to go up to the very very famous Mans Chinese Theatre, and then find a ticket person and walk to the big vans. Down from Anaheim, onto highways and into and out of the city of Los Angeles (oh and two days before we went and in the Korean district got Dad's computer fixed and then went up to the Hollywood sign past rattlesnakes and trees, looked at a few messed up homes, hilly with short impossible to get up to driveways, also taking pics with tripod of the smudgy and smoggy L.A., and across a few hills from the Hollywood sign. We were high up, and then went back down. Sorry I forgot to mention it, but it wasn't worth having a whole blog post about it, if you know what I mean.) and then into the brick and metal buildings of Hollywood, palm trees like large giants towering above, with a few skyscrapers here and there and hotels with big names and long histories. Sunset Boulevard was very old looking, or the oldest section, despite the people's efforts to make little boutiques with their modern looking glass and fine dresses. I gasped, in disbelief, as we slowly etched down the street in the black jeep.
Online we looked at which ones were the best tours to see the homes of stars and of different things like that, securing our last name in the tickets. All we had to go was to go up to the very very famous Mans Chinese Theatre, and then find a ticket person and walk to the big vans. Down from Anaheim, onto highways and into and out of the city of Los Angeles (oh and two days before we went and in the Korean district got Dad's computer fixed and then went up to the Hollywood sign past rattlesnakes and trees, looked at a few messed up homes, hilly with short impossible to get up to driveways, also taking pics with tripod of the smudgy and smoggy L.A., and across a few hills from the Hollywood sign. We were high up, and then went back down. Sorry I forgot to mention it, but it wasn't worth having a whole blog post about it, if you know what I mean.) and then into the brick and metal buildings of Hollywood, palm trees like large giants towering above, with a few skyscrapers here and there and hotels with big names and long histories. Sunset Boulevard was very old looking, or the oldest section, despite the people's efforts to make little boutiques with their modern looking glass and fine dresses. I gasped, in disbelief, as we slowly etched down the street in the black jeep.
It was too much to digest, with the Theodore Hotel across the street, in old colors and made of fading brick, little light bulbs still clinging to the ancient letters. We zoomed down into a black hole, also known as a parking garage, among the grey dark pillars, smell of smoke, graffiti everywhere. We got out, going up to an elevator, that was going to go up into Whole Foods, where we would wait until it was time to search out the ticket masters. Up with all the bings and flashing lights, we then went up a small escalator (I had trouble doing this for I am terribly afraid of escalators) and came out into a little exit and enter area, then to outside. Here was staircases on either side and high walls of a boxed in outdoor area, lower than the road and accessible by stairs walking down. There was in the back a glass sliding door building, Whole Foods grocery. We saw people all on their computers and eating vegetables, a sheer ironic scene if you ask me. Needing to go to the restroom we asked people inside, and one guy said that we needed a token, supplying a quarter to us. It cost a quarter to go to the restroom, but they were giving us it and then getting it back? I believe they do that because they know who's trying to get into the restroom, and when they go up asking, they can say no or deny (example suspicious hobo).
We bought some bananas that we ate, after a really small breakfast of yogurt in the R.V., and we sat (Dad and I) with the stuff until the ladies came back from their laboratory. Then we proceeded to walk up the street. I struggled to keep up with my fam as the video camera moved to and fro, capturing what I saw. Beneath my feet in what looked to be black or grey granite were red and pink stars! People's names, and symbols (like microphone if singer, record if musician, camera if actor, that kind of thing) and took hold of everyone from Will Smith to Larry King, and back again. Some of them we posed or took pictures by, and I was amazed to see this landmark that everyone had been talking about. We weren't even in the best part yet. Still to come as we etched by it and passed a little building and entryway, was the Mans Theatre. A big Shrek in costume by his star was on my right, and smiled and took pictures on a big platform. Then I saw it. It was red and gold, with various chinese architecture points, a glorious and very elaborate design. It was tall and with golden trim going all around, ticket booths on each side and a black entrance with Chinese symbols. There was several movie stands, and little places where they sold food. And, then, I saw it.
Those hand prints, those famous hand prints, when in movies of someone no name getting famous, they dream or actually place their hands in the gross wet cement, an eerie foreshadowing of one's career and a stepping stone in every thespian's life. Placing their petite little fingers into the grey mud or their huge palms, basking in the glory and the flashes of the cameras. This is the dream of many, but the accomplishment of few. A dream is an unconscious want, but a goal is an alive active thinking, a plan and resolution, solution, for any problem. Twas was one of the great thinkers that proclaimed, "A goal is just a dream with a deadline." But anyway, we saw those famous names sketched out along side their hand prints, and pondered while looking at the scantily un printed places, spying the remnants of the hands of John Wayne, John Travolta, and Lucille Ball, among several others. I pretended to talk to some of the characters after looking at the prints. Like for instance for Darth Vader, "Darth, your in my picture."(like "Luke, I am your father) or for Elvis, "Your costume wants me to go to the Heartbreak Hotel."(But I never really said it to them) Or instead of laughing or taking pictures, I would just pretend like they were the most normal dressing people in the whole world, passing by and saying "Hello it's a great day, isn't it?" I have loved traveling, just being able to look at all these different people from different places.
Mom and Dad at this point were getting tickets that they had reservations for and selecting the "Hollywood Home of Stars Tour" while guides in blue shirts called out names and took people all the way to their buses. They informed us, as I drifted around looking at the stars to the prints to the people in costume who won't take a picture with you unless you pay money, that the tour was in about an hour and that we could take a tour of the theater or the wax museum, whatever we wanted. Mom and Dad chose the wax museum, where we could speed on at our own time and not really learn anything, just look at waxes of famous people. It was called "Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum." Madame was someone in France who moved to escape the French Revolution and took a few busts with her. The people in New Mexico from Britain told me that on Baker Street, where Sherlock Holmes was supposed to live, there was the first Madame T. Wax Museum, and so I already had a little bit of info on the subject. Anyhow, it was on the left side, the entrance, and we had to pay a little bit of money to get in. There was a large counter in the outdoor area and of course the red little rope thing. A green screen with camera was provided, and a long carpeted ramp with posters and ads congesting the halls, as I then proceeded up as Mom and Rebecca went to the restroom. I then saw the first wax.
It was a blonde headed lady, with a lot of makeup, who tried to look pretty but age was against her on this note. She had this big scarf on or something like that, and was on a red carpet with microphone. She must be some host or something. I forgot her name because I had no reason I wanted to remember it, besides she was a crazy looking star who's life in this world does not probably tamper with anything besides tabloids and entertainment. We passed on from her and went up an elevator, the top level (it goes from 4 to 3 to 2 down to one where it ends) which detailed a traveling exhibit of people famous in the present. In that large room with little white paneling flat columns, electrons in spotlights and LED projections, also an array of clear panels telling the people's names and black radio speakers booming in sound waves like the oceans of Oregon, were many stars. Not literal, however. Justin Bieber, blond hair, bangs, Canadian charm and all, stood in stylish jeans and vest with hands in pockets. I've played the guy in a skit before. George Lopez, tan and black haired and pretty chubby appearance, stood off to the side with a few lesser knowners, including the notorious Simon Cowell, that slick haired mongrel who feasts on the talents of others, and the faults and openings of their singing abilities. Will Smith, with glasses and muscles of African origin, stood with swag and interesting clothing, short and cut up, rough and very casual. They were all very lifelike, in realistic stances according to their personalities.
The little bios, even though we were going quick to get done with this museum, were read by me a lot. I found the shady and unknown backgrounds of many of the stars interesting. The cheesy Canadian with bangs of shaggy proportions actually got famous from Usher (who was right by him in silver bling) looking at him singing on YouTube. George Lopez was very poor in the Mexico area, or the American Southwest. Will Smith wasn't too rich either. They all have something in common though. They all chased their dreams, overcoming diversity and maybe even prejudice, and succeeded, even if it meant dancing and dressing up like a big wolf (Simon Cowell's past).
Of course, we took pictures with all of them, even Lady Gaga, who was scantily clad in silver and black with a feather and white makeup, a ghost like figure that is so unique, that people want her to be a little more normal. I only took a picture with the freak (I'm sorry, no offense for Gaga fans, but in America I can call anyone anything I want as long as I don't threaten them) because my friend Henry likes her, so I was showing him that I met her(even though she was an inanimate object. George Clooney sat at a table reading a script, a clear silver table, and I looked at the silver haired actor talked about so much in all the world that is going on in entertainment. I haven't really followed him too much. Johnny Deep, big long hair and glasses, tan look and the whispy mustache, looked a lot (but not too much) different from the Pirates movie he was featured in. Here he was definitely 21st century, stylish according to modern day's society's definition of it. There were several other famous people in the room, but I don't really want to talk about them. We went down a couple of stairs while looking at some movie posters, and came to the next floor. This was going to be very interesting, I presumed, and I presumed correctly.
Now, before I introduce the next character down on the floor, let ask you who was the best silent film actor and then I'll give you a few hints. Alright, this is your guessing time. Feel free to pause a few moments. Alright, he has a small boulder hat and a cane.... and his initials are CC. Thinking...?
His name is Charlie Chaplain! As we went into the next little section from down the stairs I giggled like a schoolgirl at the sight of one of my favorite actors. This guy portrayed deep and hilarious emotions in the silent movies of the 30's, and was one of the first actor's in the new movies, which Incorporated talking, called the Talkies. He was always acting like a tramp in need of money, with his black suit and tie and then his cane, black and the one he always danced with. I learned a little about him by reading his panel and looking at the small mustache and the lifelike replica of him, and found out his dad was a preacher and he was born in England, plus a good many other things I didn't know about his life.
We passed few a few people from "Gone with the Wind" all the Scarlett O'Hara business and all, and then a few older movies, after seeing all the ones I didn't know. But eventually, through a few rooms and up a little slant, we came from the other room, with the cut out walls, and partook upon an evidence that was evidently shocking. After I posed with Charlie Chaplain I greatly wanted to pose with this one too. Outstretched hands, in red robe, old countenance, big beard.... Moses with staff in the all-so famous scene of Charleston Heston playing the leader of the jews from the Holy Land. Mom and Dad said that it was supposed to be a really famous movie but I hadn't really heard of it before. But I'm not well informed, you know.
Mom shrieked in delight as she saw her film heroes.... the male ones. It was Paul Newman and Robert Redford, dressed in their cowboy attire, on hay bales and in a shack with push in doors with John Wayne behind them, holding his long rifle with a cloak over his neck and most of his body, Hispanic sombrero situated on his head. Redford was more flashy and sparkly, a sliver pistol, nice hat, and interesting vest, blazing with different colors. While Newman was in black boots, a blue shirt, black vest, and a black hat. He looked the most clean and if you will sophisticated of cowboys. I don't know if they really can entitle that word but whatever. Mom loved posing by them, and Dad did too as he probably loved John Wayne's acting skills as much as Americans loved apple pie, or Spencer loved Veronica Jemmings.
Many gunslinger action poses were required for the ops of ops, and luckily the three desperado's were very photogenic, or fotogenica, en Espanol. Oh gosh I'm speaking Spanish again. Ever since I started taking that world language in Middle School I've been calling a t-shirt a camiseta and my sister la hermana.
Anyway, or changing the subject, or even back to the blog, we passed on from them folks, after seeing the legends of film as the sign suggests. Charlie Chaplin, a pioneer of the movies, Charles Heston, Moses awesomeness, and the three cowboy heroes. Well, the country retarded kid from Alabama with the white feathers and the story of Vietnam and the Hippie era was next. You guessed it... Elmo... I mean Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks, skinny and with black short hair, sat on this bench with a box of chocolates that he thinks life relates too. He had a white feather close by. I didn't know who Gump was and hadn't really heard much about the movie, but later on in the trip I'd watch the movie and discover his life story. Mom related to me that he was the symbol of a generation, of idiot innocence and pureness or something like that. Honestly, I'll I saw was an actor on a bench with a box and a suit and a feather, no symbol or giant realization moment of maximum proportions that was stunning. Nah, just an actor on a bench with a box and a suit and feather.
I'm changing the font. Can you notice? Alright whatever. So we didn't see many more film legends as we went up one more level. 4 to 1 to 2. Now it was time for the more popular awesome people that everyone knew... and loved. Not to say I don't like John Wayne and Charlie Chaplain. I'm not sure every teenager today knows a John Wayne or a Charlie Chaplain. That's what I'm trying to say.
They were very lifelike, as I stood with the big eared black president, Barack Obama.He looked just like the pictures. It was in front of a guy with a camera. You could take a professional picture with our current president. There was a big line, so I didn't get to tell him all about what he could do with the country, you know. The election is in only two days. But anyhow, also I stood with Captain Kirk in his red clothing!!!! I love Star Trek and so it was very awesome to be standing by him, with the bridge of the enterprise in the background. Patrick Swazey and I stood on opposite ends of a log (don't know where that scene's from) and balanced awesomely. Next was Sylvester Stalone, and he was in boxing gloves, sweat, and shorts. I got a cape on and did a little pose with him too. It was fun to see some of my favorite actor's and famous people portrayed in roles, and I greatly enjoyed the cheesy pictures.
Then I saw him. Steven Spielberg, to the right of Obama and his oval desk, and in a bigger open area. I love so many of the man's movies! Jaws, Jurassic Park, The Gooneys, Indiana Jones, Star Wars,(I don't know if he made this one or not) ET, Tintin, and several others. He was with white beard, vest, jeans, and baseball cap, as is his style. Later in the day I would see this man's big, South Western style of architecture house, on a huge hill. It looked like a hotel, right next to the Hollywood sign. But anyway, I held the horn in his cold, wax fingers, and we moved on to the stars of the Avengers.
I did a yelling face and a clenched fist with the long haired golden colored Thor, all in cape and carrying a hammer. I can't describe to you his clothing... it's all Norse to me (cheesy joke laughing). It had a breastplate though. A long line to stand with Captain Jack Sparrow was behind me, but we didn't go on that as there was a long line and we were about to leave. I left the circle cracked glass where Thor had smashed, walking past all the panels and blue walled break offs, behind a wall in the middle of the room to Iron Man, our red armored friend. He was facing the street of Sunset Boulevard below. Did a pose with him, and we took a picture of Dad with Madonna, and then went in a line for a professional picture taking with Spider Man in a NYC backdrop, and it looked like we were climbing up a building. Pretty cool. We then went down stairs to the lobby, once again waiting outside with the street pretenders (those people who take pictures with you in costumes for money). The wax museum was really fun, and I greatly enjoyed learning about these actors, posing with them, and pretending to see them. Maybe next time I be in Hollywood I'll be meeting those people for real. Perhaps.
"IF YOU'RE DOING THE STAR HOMES TOUR, FOLLOW ME!" Back in front of the Man's theatre, we were following a wreck of a man, ear studs and ear rings, bald, tattoos, with a blue collared shirt with all their company's logos written out. He checked off of the list of people, got out tickets, then handed back the studs all in a good five minutes. We then walked through those sections between the connected buildings, and therefore proceeded to a blue van on a side street, up hill at the back by a parking lot and a few Legoland ads. There was no roof nor seat belts, and the leather seats definitely looked like they had seen better days. We had to go to the back, even though my parents were middle aged and Mom could get claustrophobic in the tight back. At least it was open air, but the bad part was that it was March and so the chill of the morning would make our hair stand. Mom let Rebecca take her coat and I wore the awesome blue hoody I still have to this day. We didn't get the bald mean yell guy, thank goodness, but got a suave, blond haired Cali guy, who we just knew was a native. His long golden locks shone in the sunlight, and if you saw him from a distance you would probably mistake him for Hannah Montana. He addressed us over microphone, saying in a slow, cool voice that we would get to see the Hollywood sign up close (YAY!) and also said to hold on, all hands and feet in, that kind of thing. Before we knew it he was in, addressing us on Sunset Blvd. as we zoomed on to the street, as our un belted bodies shook like bobble heads. Next he went on through the mike that the Theodore Roosevelt Hotel, the brick building with big sign, was constructed in the 20's when this place was a mining town, and therefore served as a lodging. He didn't tell us much old history after that, just stuff about the bars, strip clubs, and all the terrible worldliness, and I could barely hear him as I tried to secure my video camera or capture a shot, but it was terrible as we bounced around, passing all the show signs on the buildings.
My hair covered my eyes half the time, and the coldness was harsh so I had to where the jacket all the time. Plus, the asking of questions, such as why was it called Hollywood, was basically impossible, because of the honking, the tires, the wind, and all the other things. In front of the Mans we learned of it not even being started by anyone Chinese, but as it really being a theatre, where the movies were always first to be displayed. People have to pay thousands of dollars to get their own star, but even so they have to be selected for something they have to pay money for. An interesting system.
We went up after going to a few different places to a blue old Southern bay windowed place, with a lot of paint and a huge witch like roof and house. It was on a hill and had a sign, almost surrounded by trees. Our guide, who's name I never got but I'll call him Hans, told us that this was a club with their own little password, and they had many stars in it (and he listed the names of those) also. We kept driving uphill (LA has A LOT of hills) and then held closely on the swirling road upward, with the asphalt beneath us and the motor churning, to the little parking area overlooking a little forested valley with a little view of Hollywood. I could just barely see the Hollywood sign, across, behind a fence, to the right, away in the distance, and felt so cheated that this was our little "awesome view of the Hollywood sign" described online. We fell for the trap.
I slipped past some seats and ungracefully got out, as Hans talked to some people. I had a long conversation with a man who had lived in Britain and we talked of literature and Mark Twain and some other things for a little while, and then I asked my long aching question. "Where did the name Hollywood come from?" I had asked him twice that day, and he finally answered saying it was part of the Christian plan in the 1800's and a realtor was advertising holy land, and made a big sign for it. It was supposed to be a play on words, and forever since it's been in many movies as the iconic land mark of movie central. Holywood. They just added another l accidentally. I found that very interesting.
In part of Hollywood and LA again, we passed by some bars and hang outs where some famous people go to, even to an exclusive club that demands a lot of money and even all this paperwork. Even Ashton Kutcher couldn't get in. It was marked by a large skyscraper. As I chattered my teeth we got in traffic, where some people voluntarily swerved in front, a few times we passed in front and people honked or almost hit us. Nothing like the peaceful Southeast with magnolia trees abound and fried chicken. No, this was crazy Cali, of liberal, weirdo, drunk, and the down right insane. I still love California though. Hans took all this however with an air of nonchalant, and said while chuckling, "LA driver, no survivor!"
Indeed so. After that, we cruised to Beverly Hills, seeing the black and gold sign in the thickly wooded area. We saw a small green area in the round about area into the subdivision, and Hans told us that Elvis used to play there with his sons. It was very cool to see this interesting sights. Up in to the hills once more, we passed by the long driveways, complete with security cameras and barbed wire gates, of some of Hollywood's finest... or worst. Hans told us the stories of how stars through eggs and food and even hair dryers at "us paparazzi" the slime of this world, those dirty dealing mongrels who love a juicy story to ruin the reputation of people, or to get into all their business and follow them all around. Ugh. It must be a terrible and ruthless existence, waging wars against the world's famous faces, and having to expose the underlying stories which go on in their lives. Ugh.
But now to who we passed. We saw Jennifer Annistan's house, which we couldn't see any of, and was very covered in ivy and all that. On the left was Tom Sellec's house, of white brick and pretty quaint and small, and also Shaquille O'Neil's house, which had a pueblo design with a round about and a lot of trees. Then there was Walt Disney's, secluded, very wide, and with black metal gate, with a mouse head on every fence post. None of these houses we could even step foot in, and also not many of them we could see. In addition, he sped right by each of them so getting a long look at them or even taking a video was scarcely possible. Hans said some other cheesy lines, and we partook sight of Indiana Jones's house (Harrison Ford) which wasn't too shabby. Most of these weren't mansion like, but the house where Michael Jackson died in, currently owned by someone else, was in fact very pretty, white columns and an open view, as was Betty White's house. It was very awesome to see where all these people had resided, did their daily things, even if it was only a few areas. Most of them were very abrupt and private households however. Then, we saw one of the most famous houses of one of the most famous people.
Her name is Lucille Ball. It was great to see the pretty old mansion with nice windows and white columns. She is a very famous actress and he talked about her just for a second though. which no one liked. I couldn't really see most of it too. Well, it was another one of those high on a hill, big fenced, ivy houses where he actually stopped and talked. It was Elton John's house, and Hans said that Elton made a second apartment coadjoining with his own for his baby and his uhhh.... partner. He needed more room and he HAD to have his band room! So his baby lives in a different building. A little different, but I'm an open minded fellow so..... never mind. It's just different. End of story.
That was basically the end of our tour, but we saw Brad Pitt's house too, with the basketball court, not concealed at all, but really pretty of adobe brick and with his kids sometimes playing b-ball out front. Then we went down into the city, by all the shops and pretty glass boutiques, then back to the Mans. He gave us some coupons at a store and we bought a shirt for me and Rebecca, and got a free pen there also. It was a little cheap store with a lot of souvenirs and memorabilia. Next we went into the parking garage after I took one more sight of the Mans theatre, wax museum, and street pretenders. We went on the highway back to Anaheim to the R.V. park, the really narrow way in, and our small tiled floor RV, leather couches turning into beds, blasting CNN, with Rebecca in the back as I was on the air mattress and she didn't want to put her bed out. I cosied up and went to bed.
That was a very fun day. I got to see some iconic sights, and waxes of several famous people, got to pose with them, and even though the tour wasn't that great and we didn't see that much of the homes thanks to fences, and the tour guide was weird and cheesy, it was still greatly enjoyable.
You might want to know what TMZ is before you read the next blog post.
Goodbye for now.
Roswell blogger, RV resider,
Andrew.
Now, before I introduce the next character down on the floor, let ask you who was the best silent film actor and then I'll give you a few hints. Alright, this is your guessing time. Feel free to pause a few moments. Alright, he has a small boulder hat and a cane.... and his initials are CC. Thinking...?
His name is Charlie Chaplain! As we went into the next little section from down the stairs I giggled like a schoolgirl at the sight of one of my favorite actors. This guy portrayed deep and hilarious emotions in the silent movies of the 30's, and was one of the first actor's in the new movies, which Incorporated talking, called the Talkies. He was always acting like a tramp in need of money, with his black suit and tie and then his cane, black and the one he always danced with. I learned a little about him by reading his panel and looking at the small mustache and the lifelike replica of him, and found out his dad was a preacher and he was born in England, plus a good many other things I didn't know about his life.
We passed few a few people from "Gone with the Wind" all the Scarlett O'Hara business and all, and then a few older movies, after seeing all the ones I didn't know. But eventually, through a few rooms and up a little slant, we came from the other room, with the cut out walls, and partook upon an evidence that was evidently shocking. After I posed with Charlie Chaplain I greatly wanted to pose with this one too. Outstretched hands, in red robe, old countenance, big beard.... Moses with staff in the all-so famous scene of Charleston Heston playing the leader of the jews from the Holy Land. Mom and Dad said that it was supposed to be a really famous movie but I hadn't really heard of it before. But I'm not well informed, you know.
Mom shrieked in delight as she saw her film heroes.... the male ones. It was Paul Newman and Robert Redford, dressed in their cowboy attire, on hay bales and in a shack with push in doors with John Wayne behind them, holding his long rifle with a cloak over his neck and most of his body, Hispanic sombrero situated on his head. Redford was more flashy and sparkly, a sliver pistol, nice hat, and interesting vest, blazing with different colors. While Newman was in black boots, a blue shirt, black vest, and a black hat. He looked the most clean and if you will sophisticated of cowboys. I don't know if they really can entitle that word but whatever. Mom loved posing by them, and Dad did too as he probably loved John Wayne's acting skills as much as Americans loved apple pie, or Spencer loved Veronica Jemmings.
Many gunslinger action poses were required for the ops of ops, and luckily the three desperado's were very photogenic, or fotogenica, en Espanol. Oh gosh I'm speaking Spanish again. Ever since I started taking that world language in Middle School I've been calling a t-shirt a camiseta and my sister la hermana.
Anyway, or changing the subject, or even back to the blog, we passed on from them folks, after seeing the legends of film as the sign suggests. Charlie Chaplin, a pioneer of the movies, Charles Heston, Moses awesomeness, and the three cowboy heroes. Well, the country retarded kid from Alabama with the white feathers and the story of Vietnam and the Hippie era was next. You guessed it... Elmo... I mean Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks, skinny and with black short hair, sat on this bench with a box of chocolates that he thinks life relates too. He had a white feather close by. I didn't know who Gump was and hadn't really heard much about the movie, but later on in the trip I'd watch the movie and discover his life story. Mom related to me that he was the symbol of a generation, of idiot innocence and pureness or something like that. Honestly, I'll I saw was an actor on a bench with a box and a suit and a feather, no symbol or giant realization moment of maximum proportions that was stunning. Nah, just an actor on a bench with a box and a suit and feather.
I'm changing the font. Can you notice? Alright whatever. So we didn't see many more film legends as we went up one more level. 4 to 1 to 2. Now it was time for the more popular awesome people that everyone knew... and loved. Not to say I don't like John Wayne and Charlie Chaplain. I'm not sure every teenager today knows a John Wayne or a Charlie Chaplain. That's what I'm trying to say.
They were very lifelike, as I stood with the big eared black president, Barack Obama.He looked just like the pictures. It was in front of a guy with a camera. You could take a professional picture with our current president. There was a big line, so I didn't get to tell him all about what he could do with the country, you know. The election is in only two days. But anyhow, also I stood with Captain Kirk in his red clothing!!!! I love Star Trek and so it was very awesome to be standing by him, with the bridge of the enterprise in the background. Patrick Swazey and I stood on opposite ends of a log (don't know where that scene's from) and balanced awesomely. Next was Sylvester Stalone, and he was in boxing gloves, sweat, and shorts. I got a cape on and did a little pose with him too. It was fun to see some of my favorite actor's and famous people portrayed in roles, and I greatly enjoyed the cheesy pictures.
Then I saw him. Steven Spielberg, to the right of Obama and his oval desk, and in a bigger open area. I love so many of the man's movies! Jaws, Jurassic Park, The Gooneys, Indiana Jones, Star Wars,(I don't know if he made this one or not) ET, Tintin, and several others. He was with white beard, vest, jeans, and baseball cap, as is his style. Later in the day I would see this man's big, South Western style of architecture house, on a huge hill. It looked like a hotel, right next to the Hollywood sign. But anyway, I held the horn in his cold, wax fingers, and we moved on to the stars of the Avengers.
I did a yelling face and a clenched fist with the long haired golden colored Thor, all in cape and carrying a hammer. I can't describe to you his clothing... it's all Norse to me (cheesy joke laughing). It had a breastplate though. A long line to stand with Captain Jack Sparrow was behind me, but we didn't go on that as there was a long line and we were about to leave. I left the circle cracked glass where Thor had smashed, walking past all the panels and blue walled break offs, behind a wall in the middle of the room to Iron Man, our red armored friend. He was facing the street of Sunset Boulevard below. Did a pose with him, and we took a picture of Dad with Madonna, and then went in a line for a professional picture taking with Spider Man in a NYC backdrop, and it looked like we were climbing up a building. Pretty cool. We then went down stairs to the lobby, once again waiting outside with the street pretenders (those people who take pictures with you in costumes for money). The wax museum was really fun, and I greatly enjoyed learning about these actors, posing with them, and pretending to see them. Maybe next time I be in Hollywood I'll be meeting those people for real. Perhaps.
"IF YOU'RE DOING THE STAR HOMES TOUR, FOLLOW ME!" Back in front of the Man's theatre, we were following a wreck of a man, ear studs and ear rings, bald, tattoos, with a blue collared shirt with all their company's logos written out. He checked off of the list of people, got out tickets, then handed back the studs all in a good five minutes. We then walked through those sections between the connected buildings, and therefore proceeded to a blue van on a side street, up hill at the back by a parking lot and a few Legoland ads. There was no roof nor seat belts, and the leather seats definitely looked like they had seen better days. We had to go to the back, even though my parents were middle aged and Mom could get claustrophobic in the tight back. At least it was open air, but the bad part was that it was March and so the chill of the morning would make our hair stand. Mom let Rebecca take her coat and I wore the awesome blue hoody I still have to this day. We didn't get the bald mean yell guy, thank goodness, but got a suave, blond haired Cali guy, who we just knew was a native. His long golden locks shone in the sunlight, and if you saw him from a distance you would probably mistake him for Hannah Montana. He addressed us over microphone, saying in a slow, cool voice that we would get to see the Hollywood sign up close (YAY!) and also said to hold on, all hands and feet in, that kind of thing. Before we knew it he was in, addressing us on Sunset Blvd. as we zoomed on to the street, as our un belted bodies shook like bobble heads. Next he went on through the mike that the Theodore Roosevelt Hotel, the brick building with big sign, was constructed in the 20's when this place was a mining town, and therefore served as a lodging. He didn't tell us much old history after that, just stuff about the bars, strip clubs, and all the terrible worldliness, and I could barely hear him as I tried to secure my video camera or capture a shot, but it was terrible as we bounced around, passing all the show signs on the buildings.
My hair covered my eyes half the time, and the coldness was harsh so I had to where the jacket all the time. Plus, the asking of questions, such as why was it called Hollywood, was basically impossible, because of the honking, the tires, the wind, and all the other things. In front of the Mans we learned of it not even being started by anyone Chinese, but as it really being a theatre, where the movies were always first to be displayed. People have to pay thousands of dollars to get their own star, but even so they have to be selected for something they have to pay money for. An interesting system.
We went up after going to a few different places to a blue old Southern bay windowed place, with a lot of paint and a huge witch like roof and house. It was on a hill and had a sign, almost surrounded by trees. Our guide, who's name I never got but I'll call him Hans, told us that this was a club with their own little password, and they had many stars in it (and he listed the names of those) also. We kept driving uphill (LA has A LOT of hills) and then held closely on the swirling road upward, with the asphalt beneath us and the motor churning, to the little parking area overlooking a little forested valley with a little view of Hollywood. I could just barely see the Hollywood sign, across, behind a fence, to the right, away in the distance, and felt so cheated that this was our little "awesome view of the Hollywood sign" described online. We fell for the trap.
I slipped past some seats and ungracefully got out, as Hans talked to some people. I had a long conversation with a man who had lived in Britain and we talked of literature and Mark Twain and some other things for a little while, and then I asked my long aching question. "Where did the name Hollywood come from?" I had asked him twice that day, and he finally answered saying it was part of the Christian plan in the 1800's and a realtor was advertising holy land, and made a big sign for it. It was supposed to be a play on words, and forever since it's been in many movies as the iconic land mark of movie central. Holywood. They just added another l accidentally. I found that very interesting.
In part of Hollywood and LA again, we passed by some bars and hang outs where some famous people go to, even to an exclusive club that demands a lot of money and even all this paperwork. Even Ashton Kutcher couldn't get in. It was marked by a large skyscraper. As I chattered my teeth we got in traffic, where some people voluntarily swerved in front, a few times we passed in front and people honked or almost hit us. Nothing like the peaceful Southeast with magnolia trees abound and fried chicken. No, this was crazy Cali, of liberal, weirdo, drunk, and the down right insane. I still love California though. Hans took all this however with an air of nonchalant, and said while chuckling, "LA driver, no survivor!"
Indeed so. After that, we cruised to Beverly Hills, seeing the black and gold sign in the thickly wooded area. We saw a small green area in the round about area into the subdivision, and Hans told us that Elvis used to play there with his sons. It was very cool to see this interesting sights. Up in to the hills once more, we passed by the long driveways, complete with security cameras and barbed wire gates, of some of Hollywood's finest... or worst. Hans told us the stories of how stars through eggs and food and even hair dryers at "us paparazzi" the slime of this world, those dirty dealing mongrels who love a juicy story to ruin the reputation of people, or to get into all their business and follow them all around. Ugh. It must be a terrible and ruthless existence, waging wars against the world's famous faces, and having to expose the underlying stories which go on in their lives. Ugh.
But now to who we passed. We saw Jennifer Annistan's house, which we couldn't see any of, and was very covered in ivy and all that. On the left was Tom Sellec's house, of white brick and pretty quaint and small, and also Shaquille O'Neil's house, which had a pueblo design with a round about and a lot of trees. Then there was Walt Disney's, secluded, very wide, and with black metal gate, with a mouse head on every fence post. None of these houses we could even step foot in, and also not many of them we could see. In addition, he sped right by each of them so getting a long look at them or even taking a video was scarcely possible. Hans said some other cheesy lines, and we partook sight of Indiana Jones's house (Harrison Ford) which wasn't too shabby. Most of these weren't mansion like, but the house where Michael Jackson died in, currently owned by someone else, was in fact very pretty, white columns and an open view, as was Betty White's house. It was very awesome to see where all these people had resided, did their daily things, even if it was only a few areas. Most of them were very abrupt and private households however. Then, we saw one of the most famous houses of one of the most famous people.
Her name is Lucille Ball. It was great to see the pretty old mansion with nice windows and white columns. She is a very famous actress and he talked about her just for a second though. which no one liked. I couldn't really see most of it too. Well, it was another one of those high on a hill, big fenced, ivy houses where he actually stopped and talked. It was Elton John's house, and Hans said that Elton made a second apartment coadjoining with his own for his baby and his uhhh.... partner. He needed more room and he HAD to have his band room! So his baby lives in a different building. A little different, but I'm an open minded fellow so..... never mind. It's just different. End of story.
That was basically the end of our tour, but we saw Brad Pitt's house too, with the basketball court, not concealed at all, but really pretty of adobe brick and with his kids sometimes playing b-ball out front. Then we went down into the city, by all the shops and pretty glass boutiques, then back to the Mans. He gave us some coupons at a store and we bought a shirt for me and Rebecca, and got a free pen there also. It was a little cheap store with a lot of souvenirs and memorabilia. Next we went into the parking garage after I took one more sight of the Mans theatre, wax museum, and street pretenders. We went on the highway back to Anaheim to the R.V. park, the really narrow way in, and our small tiled floor RV, leather couches turning into beds, blasting CNN, with Rebecca in the back as I was on the air mattress and she didn't want to put her bed out. I cosied up and went to bed.
That was a very fun day. I got to see some iconic sights, and waxes of several famous people, got to pose with them, and even though the tour wasn't that great and we didn't see that much of the homes thanks to fences, and the tour guide was weird and cheesy, it was still greatly enjoyable.
You might want to know what TMZ is before you read the next blog post.
Goodbye for now.
Roswell blogger, RV resider,
Andrew.
No comments:
Post a Comment