This is probably one of the more surreal moments of my young adult life – sitting at the pre-fabbed concrete and glass maw of Rodeo Drive on the patio of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel (can you hear Roy Orbison twitching in his grave…? I thought you could). Currently quaffing an extremely dry martini with oversized mutant olives (when in Rome), waiting for a rendezvous with an old highschool chum (a MAD crush from ’88 – yup, I just buried myself with chronology), and am only now attempting to process all the ‘plastic’ of the past couple of days (miniature pets, eye-job bandages, and multiple Rock sightings).
Still, I needed to get away and focus on that nebulous thing called ‘the future’ for a few days…and this shiny nub of simulation and simulacra certainly lent a much needed assist. Couldn’t have done it without a wicked seat sale and the surprising hospitality of Mr Diamond Dave Kaye and his amazing bonus bed o’ bliss. Of course, ‘work’ still finds a way to insinuate itself into most waking moments…but then, considering the geography, there are worse synchronocities to be had 🙂