Yesterday, I decided to spend most of my time wandering through the streets of Hollywood. As someone with an east coast perspective, I saw walking down Hollywood Blvd as equivalent to taking a stroll through Times Square in New York City.
In some ways the two largest cities in America are very similar to each other. There are plenty of pizza joints, tattoo parlors, strip clubs and city tours available. Crowds of tourists from all walks of life roam the city streets (the size of which much less in LA than in NYC), and costumed people and unknown rap artists peddle their wares to those who inevitably cross their paths.
Side note: — I can’t tell you how many times I refused a picture with Catwoman and Spiderman or turned down the next Jay Z’s CD that was offered to me free of charge.
My day began as they normally do whenever I visit a new town – by seeking out the nearest Starbucks. While sitting there drinking my morning java this attractive blonde walks in, orders some sort of high-tech drink and sits down at the table next to me where a gentleman is already seated.
Unaware of my nosiness, the woman proceeds to pull out a portfolio and begins chatting with this fellow about all of the things she’s involved with. In this impromptu meeting session she tells him about her artwork, the photographs she’s taken for local magazines, how she’s in the process of making a video for some musical group I’ve never heard of, but one which made the dude sitting across from her sit up straight with curiosity.
Before long the two of them are exchanging email addresses and Facebook account information with the promise of connecting again soon. It felt like a twenty-first century version of “have your people call my people”.
That’s when it hit me. There is so much creativity in this town.
I know. I know. This sort of thing happens in every town all across America. But there’s something about it happening in Hollywood that feels different.
There’s no doubt that Hollywood is one of the hardest places in the world to make your dreams come true. And yet, that’s where thousands of amazing artists, musicians and actors continue to pound the pavement every day trying to make it happen.
I liken it to winning the lottery. There’s a million to one chance that you’ll succeed. So much riding against you that it makes it easy to just give up. But the people here seem to take the “if you don’t play, you can’t win” attitude very seriously, and it’s inspiring to be around.
The rest of my day was spent wandering the streets in search of a little fame and fortune of my own. I made it a point to look down at the stars on The Walk of Fame as much as possible. What I discovered was: A) There are a lot of people who made significant contributions to radio, television and film whose names I didn’t recognize and B) About 80% of the names I did recognize were people who were long dead.
The Chinese Theatre was another interesting place to visit – if only briefly. I loved seeing all of the hands and footprints that were left in the cement. Seeing dates as far back as 1928 was surreal and I pictured what life must have been like in this town nearly a century before Hollywood became “Hollywood”.
Then there was the a-ha moment on the walk back to my hotel.
In my touristy slowness, this dude with shoulder length blond hair passes by with a Gibson hardshell guitar case in his hands. He’s wearing a denim jean jacket and ball cap along with a pair of bright red Chuck Taylor converse sneakers. No doubt he is either en route to band practice or just coming from a rehearsal.
I imagined the backpack he was also carrying over his shoulder contained cables, picks and guitar strings as well as the chord changes and secret lyrics to the next big radio hit.
I quickly fumbled for my camera to capture the moment. Not because taking a picture of just another kid with rock star dreams would be so typical of Hollywood. No, my intention was much more selfish.
Thirty years ago, that dude would have been me.