NY Times: The Los Angeles of Ry Cooder and Mister Jalopy
A few months ago, Ry Cooder and I went out to the dry lakes with the Old Crow Speed Shop, the Bobby Green Bellytanker and the New York Times. The article (by Lawrence Downes, and photos by Eric Grigorian) is out tomorrow and it is wonderful.
There is the Los Angeles that people imagine of red carpet premieres, Botox lunches, velvet rope nightclubs, Venice bodybuilders and tony boutiques. It is not a fable. That is real. Or, at least, it physically exists.
Then, there is the Los Angeles that I know. Aerospace surplus hardware stores, smoky and ashtray-less Koreatown English hunt club bars in crumbling hotel basements, perfect beer buzz lunches at the Farmer's Market in filtered sunlight, the wild dogs of Pacoima, sprawling thrift stores, trolling junkyards for old diaries and Polaroids, the drag races at Pomona, chrome plating shops, backyards stacked with 300 bicycles, gold miners eager to show their biggest nuggets, fishing for carp in the Los Angeles River, optimists taking over art museums, the nicad battery selection at Electronic City, the metal patination case at Industrial Metal Supply, Kit Kraft Hobby, the gem vault at the Natural History Museum, the szechuan peppercorns of Alhambra, the churlish bartenders at Hop Louie, the sneaker shops of Little Tokyo, the imported coldcuts at Monte Carlo Deli, the Japanese garden on the roof of the New Otani Hotel, the bicycle swap at the Encino Velodrome, the DDR kids at the Santa Monica Pier, the mustard at Philipes, the dimsum carts of Monterey Park, the carnitas at Carrillos, the buffalo at Hart Park, the Kris Special at the Waystation, the netsuke room at LACMA, the Remington Rolling Block at the Backwoods Inn, the coffee shop at the LA Police Academy, the abandoned restaurant with leather walls at Union Station, the yardage of the Garment District, the abandoned fire station in the Toy District with the quartersawn oak lockers viewable through the crack in the door, the first two rows of lowrider history at the Pomona Auto Swap, Abe Lincoln's hat at the Huntington Library, the camillia forest of Descanso Garden, the bolt room of Roscoe Hardware that is hidden in a kitchen remodeling home center, the genius at the Museum of Jurassic Technology, the chile pepper booth at the Grand Central Market, sneaking to the top balcony of the Bradbury Building, the threadbare and dented Variety Arts Center, the orange groves of the 126 and secret utility salvage yard in the northeast San Fernando Valley.
Ry and I share this Los Angeles and it was fun to show it to Lawrence. He did us proud. Los Angeles tries to throw itself away everyday but we are still gold prospectors, hot rodders and guitarists. Our fundamental awesomeness will not be impinged.
I agree; what Mister Jalopy write above comes closer than anyone to nailing why I love Los Angeles.
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I saw these photos this morning. I can't get them out of my head. It made me realize I need to visit the desert. So amazing.
Conversely, the only thing that can make me think LA is worth two rat twats is you guys.
Everyone should own at least:
Ry Cooder
Chicken Skin Music
Paradise & Lunch
Boomer's Story
Into the Purple Valley
Music by Ry Cooder (soundtracks)
I love how all this new music from Ry Cooder is embedded right in the NYT piece. I just wonder, if they keep making the online version of the newspaper so enticing, who will subscribe to the print edition anymore?
This is why I need to win the lottery. So I can just spend my time visiting neat places.
I was always hesitant to apply to any law schools out in Cali despite the fact that they are the best for what I want to do, probably because of my east coast prejudice, but this article just single-handedly made me decide to shoot for the UC crowd.
"fishing for carp in the Los Angeles River"
Do you mean the carp that swim in water?
Do you mean that big concrete trench that all movie car chases used to end up in?
Who taught the carp to drive?
...and a chili-cheeseburger at Tommy's.
The netsuke room at LACMA is pretty cool.
Mister Jalopy hangs out with Ry Cooder!! Can the man get any cooler?
Damn straight. I've lived in L.A. practically my whole life (I'm 35) and I know maybe 4 people in the entertainment industry, tops. That L.A. you see on TV and in the movies exists, but it's a tiny fraction of the real people here. For the rest of us, L.A. is a big city full of creative, diverse, intelligent people, many of whom came from around the country or around the world to seek a place where the population wasn't afraid of what's new and different. Personally I don't care for the endless sunny weather, but the easy access to beaches, mountains, and deserts make getting away from it all easy here, and some of the world's greatest natural wonders are within a day's drive.
I was born and raised in Los Angeles and think it's the greatest city in the world. It is as diverse, culturally relevant, wild, hip, retro, interesting and cool as any city in the world. It's just fashionable to hate LA because it's easy.
I live in the UK now, have done for the last seven years, and I can't count the times people have told me, "I visited LA for a day or two and I hated it, it was so fake/big/plastic/etc"
I tell them, you didn't visit LA, you just were sightseeing on some movie set. Most never get east of the 405.
What a wonderful article!
That is a very long sentence.
Haven't been to L.A. in seven years, and now I want to go there again, and see this stuff. This is the kind of stuff worth seeing.
Wow: you're right, MightyMouse1584! 323 words!
Ry Cooder! It never ceases to amaze me why they haven't named a city after him...
(Oh.. Oh yeah.. "Cooderville". Forget it.)
Might I add: Evetts Model Shop on Ocean Park, Pacific Radio on La Brea, Necromance on Melrose, Tacos at La Playita on Lincoln and Roscoes House of Chicken and Waffles and the Venice walkstreets
Please help this New Englander out:
What are "hunt clubs"?
This is the L.A. I know. I was born and raised here. I'm 3rd generation. My grandparents and uncles owned a junkyard on Sherman Way back in the 60s and 70s across from Norms. The red carpet may be rolled out in parts of L.A. but the the smells coming from the Michoacan taquerias and night jasmine on the first 80 degree evening in March is what I recognize as my L.A.
Ry Cooder is a national treasure, and my fave guitarist after Clapton and the late Stevie Ray.