I MOVED TO L.A.
I moved to L.A. on December 7, 1990. I still don’t take the weather for granted. Everyday I wake up and say thank you. Even if it’s only 50 degrees.
I live near a gelato store, smoothie shop, and three vegan restaurants. I can order a tofu bratwurst at 2 a.m.
I’m too old to be a hipster! I’m 47. I’m more retro. I prefer the beatnik era — the real hipsters! My stereo system is so good it’s like I’m seated in the front row at Shelly’s Manne Hole. That live. The speakers are mounted on maple block.
Shelly’s Manne Hole is gone. It was at Hollywood and Cahuenga.
What do hipsters listen to now? I don’t know. I don’t talk to them. I live across the street from the “Shameless” guys. I’m not sure what that is. A TV show? A band?
Everyone here is in the industry.
Me too. I started off writing celebrity profiles for Us and People. I wrote for Wings. I wrote for Cheers. I wrote for Seinfeld.
After Seinfeld shoots, we would hang at Jerry’s Famous Deli in Studio City. Jerry once told me he liked working in L.A. because, since we had such long hours, he didn’t feel he was missing much, like if we had been in New York.
Most recently I explained the word “ofay” to Josh. Means white guy. Pig Latin for “foe.” I know, my “ofay” etymology is a bubbe-mayse, but I like the idea of blacks speaking Pig Latin. And I like telling Josh what’s what.
Josh calls me Moon (short for Moonbeam). Josh is the only guy who can get away with that. I was the beatnik at Shaker Heights High, 1984. I’m still a little “outside,” but not that much by L.A. standards. I wear Arthur Ashe–era short shorts. Big deal.
My first year here I had a hard time making the rent nut, but I hung in. I played b-ball with other writers. I had slow times. I’ve had fast times.
I just put a half million dollars into a gangster love story. I directed and wrote it. Hopefully, we’ll get it into Sundance. A long shot, I know. Then there’s Toronto. Even if the movie goes nowhere, I’m OK. I didn’t refinance my house for it.
I shot the movie in Cleveland. They love me there. The press I get there. Right now I need about 30,000 Clevelanders to “like” my movie trailer on Facebook. Please search “Bloody Vista Boulevard” on Facebook and “like.”
My steady check is my rental unit. I’ve got two musicians next door. $3,000/month. They sleep till noon and go out from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. They say they “shed” Charlie Parker, but I’ve never heard it. (Josh, “shed” means “woodshed” — to practice.)
I’m going to die in this house.
Cleveland doesn’t have the mountains, the ocean, the sun. Thank God I’m here.
The Seinfeld info is stolen from writer Peter Mehlman. This post is fiction.