Not a whole lot to report on in the macro "whats going on in LA". I continue to go on a few commercial auditions a month, a number I'd like to see go up. My agent can't really drop me for another year, but I'd like to book something so he doesn't feel like he should. Also, because I'd like the money. I've been looking to move apartments now that my lease is month-to-month. Ideally, I'd like to find something geographically close to where I am, but for a little cheaper and with a window I can look out of without an intimate view of neighbors' pets using the patch of grass. Also, being able to see sky would be dope. I just finished working on a play as a stage manager, something I don't really have a whole lot of interest in, but was asked to do, so of course I said yes. It has helped my "Mack is great to have around on productions" reputation; we'll see if that leads to jobs that, you know, pay. I've committed to writing more, for the [number too high to count]th time. I'm sure this new notebook I bought from my neighborhood book store is the key to overcoming all the obstacles involved, like actually stringing words together in a manner so as to form coherent sentences layered on top of one another. Socially, things are going fairly well, though I still feel as if I have to say yes to everything because who knows if saying no to a particular event will be the one that bars me from ever being invited to anything else ever again by anyone. I mean, I still watch plenty of Netflix alone, so I could lean more into that if need be.
Recently, I had a day that encapsulated a good part of the things that happen to me / I do on a semi-regular basis in LA, so I will recreate it here for you.
[To the tune of "I love LA" by Randy Newman]
Earlier in the week, Whit Watson (or as Mom referred to him since I started working in the booth in 2004 "Walt Whitman") texted me that he was going to be in LA and asked if I wanted to meet up for dinner. Sure, I said. I made the drive west to Santa Monica to meet him and Todd Lewis, another Golf Channel personality, for dinner and drinks. It was lovely. They offered to get me tickets to a day of golf. Great, I said. Thursday, I don't have anything going on that day. They forgot. Whit got me a ticket for Saturday. Clubhouse access. I'd make it work.
I set my alarm for 6:00am. I was a little surprised my phone allowed me to set it that early, as I didn't know that was possible. There are very few things that get me out of bed with zero snoozes. Golf related activities being the only one that comes to mind at the moment. I need to make the drive to Santa Monica to pick up my credential from Whit's hotel. So I can at least get on the course for a few hours. I have plans today.
I'm the first in line for coffee at my go-to coffee spot. I find this a little odd, shouldn't a coffee place open earlier? Anyway, yeah I'll have a pastry too. It's early, plenty of time to work it off. I'll be walking around the course, I need some energy. You know what, make it a chocolate croissant. Why don't they take better care to get the chocolate more evenly spread throughout the dough? The type of person ordering a chocolate croissant would enjoy getting chocolate in most every bite, I would think.
The valet asks if I'm checking in, I'm not, I'm picking up something from the front desk, I'll just be 2 minutes.
"Hi, I'm Mack Dalton. I'm picking something up that one of your guests, Whit Watson, left for me."
"Of course," the woman at the front desk says. She'll just need a photo ID. "It says Charles."
"I know, I go by Mack. It's short for Malcolm, sorta."
The drive from Santa Monica to the golf course is not far. Though, my planning takes a bit of a hit when I realize that the Clubhouse Pass does not get me any sort of preferential parking. There is not a public lot. The streets all say 'NO GOLF PARKING'. I wonder if they really mean it. Whoops, this street made a mistake. Instead of 'No Parking Anytime' temporary signs, they have '2 hour parking' temporary signs. I wonder if they ran out of the 'No Parking' ones. I have to leave in about two hours anyway. It's early, they aren't awake to yell at me for parking on their street.
I enter the course as a man is being kicked out for scalping tickets. Who is buying a ticket from a scalper at 7:00am? Apparently no one, even if they wanted to.
"Sir, you can come right through here with that pass."
"Oh, thank you."
The woman checking badges gives me a wristband, tells me I don't need the pass anymore, if I don't want. I tell her I'll keep it just in case I start to scrapbook.
She laughs.
I take about two-and-a-half steps into the clubhouse before I see Don Emery, the former Interlachen GM and current Riviera GM. It takes me introducing myself for him to recognize me, but then he does immediately. We chat about California, and he remembers all the reasons I came out there before as well as every one of the Interlachen member's names. He tells me to wait right there, he'll bring something for me. A Riviera member's badge. I can go anywhere. Probably could even rip one off the first tee if I had my clubs. We part, and I begin to walk the course. The only error I've made is forgetting about a gap in play due to the second round bleeding into Saturday. So, no golf yet. But I see the course, then go watch my close, personal friend Dustin Johnson hit some balls on the range. You know what? I am feeling a little peckish. Member's Only dining room? No problem, here's my badge.
"Good morning sir, can I get you a cup of coffee? How about a seat by the window?" That'd be great, thanks. Sure, it's cutting into my course time, but I can't remember a time I've turned down a luxury that was made available to me. I'll go ahead and pay up front, Justin Thomas is putting a few feet away and I'd like to see him before heading out.
I grab a couple of pictures so I can post them later, and head back out of the gates. I have plans.
--
9:45am
"Hey man, I saw your insta story, are you still coming over?"
"Yes, on my way to yours now."
It's NBA All-Star Weekend. Practice starts today at 11:00, but we need to get there early to get the CAA tickets. Although it's clear this is a day that the NBA just opened up to the public to have one more money-making event, it was pretty cool.
Overall, there wasn't really a whole lot going on here. I felt bad for the "hype-people" brought in from three different teams. It's pretty hard to get hype for layup-lines and the three-man-weave. Yes, the best players in the world were running these drills, and yes, it was hilarious -- at least to me. One of the hype-people was from the Magic. It wasn't Scotty B. This joke I told myself made me laugh, also to myself.
The most impressive part of practice was to see these guys talking and doing much more than dribbling.
Let's grab a quick bite, I have plans.
--
2:30pm
"Hey man, I just got out of my interview. I'm going to change at the hotel, then let's meet?"
"Yeah, just finishing up lunch. I'll head that way. Let's do Venice Ale House for a beer on the boardwalk."
I've already driven to the westside, and back, once today. But my friend Karan Desai is in town with his girlfriend. He's here to interview with USC and UCLA for the next phase of his Doctor journey. It's the only time between his interviews and my work schedule that works, so even though Maps says it'll take 45 minutes. I point the nose back in that direction.
At 4:00pm I find nearby parking and walk the few blocks down Rose Ave, past Main Street, past Neilson Way, past Speedway Blvd, and onto the boardwalk. I use to make this walk every day when I lived and worked over here. Somehow it's gotten even more bro-y. I apologize for the crowd, and lament about the number of changes in the area that make it more popular, but less cool than it was before. Snapchat turned my favorite bar into their personal cafeteria. Not to mention they bought the old office and had the audacity to not play beer pong on the balcony with Top Gun playing in the background. I mean, it's Saturday. What are they even doing with beachside property if they aren't going to use it? Maybe it is the same level of bro-y after all. Anyway.
We catch up, have a couple of local beers, watch as the light turns from blue to gold.
I have to be at the theater at 6, and believe it or not, it's 4:45 and I need to go. I know, it's crazy, but it really does take that long. Yeah, I take the 405 up and around to the 101 and come back down that way. It's a little out of the way mileage-wise, but the other options take even longer time-wise and unfortunately, I have plans.
--
6:15pm
"Sorry I'm late. Traffic, ya know?"
I have my duties for the play pretty much down by now, but run through the cues a few times anyway. The last thing I want to do is to screw it up for the actors. They've managed to sell all their shows out, which is pretty impressive.
You know what isn't impressive? Showing up late. Even worse: showing up late and not understanding that it's going to be disruptive to the play for you to walk in after it's started. Really? Parking was tough? I mean, I know it was tough, but it's not 45 minutes late tough. Oh your a family friend just trying to support? Great, get here on time. You had a reserved seat? Yeah we gave that away at the start time. Sure, go on in, whatever. You're going to be embarrassed when you open the door and the whole theater looks at you because the door opens at the front of the stage. Anyway, I have work to do, you aren't going to make me miss my cue.
Great show guys, really well done. Now if everyone could please exit the lobby. Yes, thank you, we appreciate you coming. Please leave something in the donation box. I need to break down the set, and I have plans.
--
11:00pm
"In lieu of gifts, please bring a bottle to share," read the invitation.
I'm excited to get this invitation. This party could be a lot of fun. It's also possible I will know almost no one there, so it's stressful.
When I arrived, I was greeted at the front gate by a doorman with a guest list. I'm on it.
"Would you like a specialty drink as you make your way up the stairs to the party?" Sure, how far could I need to travel?
I don't see anyone I know. Then, thankfully, I see the host. The host is a guy I met through some mutual friends, then became friends with myself. After a few hangs, I discovered he was a writer/producer for the HBO show Veep. His house is, well, it's nice.
He needs to you know, be the host, so we part after pleasantries and I pour myself a drink. I'd finished the other one on the stairs. I take my drink and pretty much just start walking in a circle around the house. On my second lap, I was like, 'hey, that guy looks familiar.' It was Jason Sudeikis. We nod hello as we pass each other. I turn the corner, and there is Olivia Wilde. We don't acknowledge one another. I continue my circle.
I eventually find a few other friends and sort of glue myself there for a bit. Then, a friend's girlfriend shows up, and we begin to chat. She tells me a story about her friend Kelly. She goes on, saying that I should meet her because she is a big golfer. I say okay.
A bit later, on another circle, I find myself in the dance room, a place I don't think I should be without at least another drink. I go to exit, when my friend's girlfriend stops me. She introduces me to her friend Kelly. Kelly Rohrbach. This is not a comfortable place for me to be, at all. But, how can I leave? I stay and dance for a bit. She ends up leaving, so I continue the circle which ends at the bar.
The dj packs up and now I need to decide if it's time for me to go ahead and leave as well. Almost any other time, I'd be last man standing and see if anything interesting happened with the pool situation. But I knew I had to work the next day, so I finish my drink, say goodbye to the host and walk down the stairs to the exit, a few steps behind Joel McHale.
Got in the wrong Uber. Got in the right Uber. Ordered some McDonald's and re-watched an episode of Mad Men before dozing off into a "what world am I living in" sleep.
--
9:30am
I wake up, feeling oddly inspired.
I have plans.
------------------------------
That's all, for now.
Love,
Mack
