L.A. Ski Snobs Missing Out

A flask of Dewar's and a scenic ski lift - life is good

Snobbery is built into the world of skiing. In the great Aspen vs. Vail debate, where a five-figure amount is needed to make it through the weekend, hordes still flock to the even newer hotspot, wherever it happens to be that winter. Some years it's Sun Valley, others it's Jackson Hole. For Hollywood, it's Park City during Sundance. For old money, it's Switzerland.

In L.A., there's even a local-based hierarchy. It just so happens that the farther a resort is from Los Angeles, the more it's revered.  At the top of the heap is Lake Tahoe, for the jet set who need to be back on Monday morning. And a jet is necessary, since it's an 8-hour drive. Mammoth Lakes is 5 hours from Los Angeles, and skiers who slog north for that weekend trip claim bragging rights over the skiers at Big Bear, which is 2.5 hours from LaLa Land. Scraping the bottom is Mt. Baldy.

that orange glow is the Pacific Ocean

Why are so many Angelenos prone to eye-rolling at the mention of Mt. Baldy? Perhaps because the peak is visible from Los Angeles. After the rains clear, it's the one snow-capped mountain standing majestically to the East. It's only an hour away, so perhaps it feels too accessible, not exclusive enough.

Mrs. Unruh, all 79 years of her, rocking out

Admittedly, the "lodge" served greasy food and had no lounge area. The "bunny slopes" were terrifyingly inappropriate for "bunnies" and a lot of the kids running it had brushed-forward Beiber hair and bad attitudes. But the lift was gorgeous at sunset, where the Pacific Ocean, visible to us, glittered a tangerine reflection of the sun. Our ski instructor was friendly and the fresh air was exhilarating. But the best of Mt. Baldy was not the skiing experience. It was the Buckhorn  Lodge and Motel. Sure, the motel rooms are tiny cinder block squares cluttered with plastic flowers and creepy dolls. But it adds a certain strangeness, as if you were 600 miles from Beverly Hills, rather than 60. And if you want to catch up on your reading, you won't be distracted by the TV because there isn't one. But I should also mention that there weren't trash cans. Doesn't seem important now, but wait until you're standing in the bathroom holding a Q-tip.

the lodge has a roaring fireplace and festive mantle

Nothing beats the Buckhorn Lodge though. Built in 1910, it's a cozy, wood-paneled restaurant that serves killer fried chicken and baked potatoes. A live band plays at night and drink specials abound. You will find yourself surrounded by voluptuous photos and artwork of a young Mrs. Unruh. She's the owner, and while she's on the cusp of  80,  she sings and shimmies on stage with a slit to her thigh and a red feather boa. I love it. I love the fact that she holds onto her old married name from the 1960's, even though she remarried and is twice widowed. She was married to Jessie Unruh, who worked with the Kennedy family. She holds on tight to the glitz of her past, nailing it to the wall and printing it on the menu. I love that she high kicks, and that the wives of her bandmates and townies gossip about her. How many 80 year-olds can rightfully claim that they are still scandalous? It's inspiring.

the creepy doll and plastic flower altar

I like that after a night of lounge-singing and rock-and-rolling, Mrs. Unruh is the maid that comes in the morning, to clean the cinder block rooms cluttered with plastic flowers and creepy dolls. I love all of it, and I will be back.


San Pedro - Not So Scary

Ports O' Call Village - seafood, taffy & galleries
Any town that's emblazoned across T-shirts of guys with their pants hanging below their butts, or on a hat that's turned sideways, is not a town I'd like to live in. And in L.A., that town is San Pedro. Why does the name of this city adorn fools who shift around with that uneven gangster slouch? And with only one free hand, as the other hand must hold up their pants...though they're wearing belts.

The town has been described as "proudly blue collar," and while I have Long Beach friends who say the city is rife with wealthy longshoremen (it's a port town), others say it's a gang-ridden ghetto. Aside from an excursion to see the haunted house of San Pedro, we decided to take a day trip to check it out. Parts of the city were, um, proudly blue collar, but it's rich with history and endless public exhibits:

The Korean Friendship Bell overlooks the sea

Cabrillo Marine Aquarium
nasty, blind deep-sea fish
moon jellies - my favorite
fresh-caught seafood in Ports O'Call Village
The Fort MacArthur Museum - roaming the old miltary base

Red Car Trolley circa 1920's - $1 for the whole day!

San Pedro Maritime Museum
The largest, busiest port in the United States  - if it was made in Asia, it's sent here first!


Kubrick at LACMA

A Clockwork Orange
Stanley Kubrick has always been a winking fixture in my adult life. Old punk rock boyfriends held up A Clockwork Orange in that expected, unoriginal way. My own marriage proposal was a nod to a scene in the film Barry Lyndon. After our parties, whether big blowouts or intimate  dinners, the night always ends with Kubrick. The stragglers who drink too much languish and mumble quietly in the living room holding their final drink, while I shut off the lights, cover everyone with blankets, pop homemade popcorn on the stove and put on The Shining. Reactions range from fear to amusement, but it's electrifying every time. 
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."
It was a no-brainer that I was to see Kubrick's retrospective at LACMA. I was blown away seeing the iconic typewriter that still holds the paper that reads, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Or the baby from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Angry letters from Christian groups about the release of  Lolita, relics from Dr. Strangelove. This is a must-see and will be gone by the end of June.

The Shining
The Shining
Barry Lyndon
2001: A Space Odyssey


Casting...It Isn't Just for Stage & Screen

Los Angeles is rife with issues all around casting. If someone runs into a casting director at a party, they will desperately attempt to bed them. If an actor is typecast, they will desperately attempt to reinvent themselves. If one makes it into a cast, they will desperately attempt to make it past pilot season. If one is never cast, they will desperately moan that they are outcasts.

Well guess what L.A.? There are more to casts than what you see on stage and screen. There are casts that don't fill us with stress, pride or resentment. In fact, they will make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Animals with casts!