Pushed to the Edge of the Continent

We've all seen her - the aging Marilyn Monroe with the lopsided wig on Hollywood Boulevard. She charges a dollar for tourists to take a photo with her, and they do. But she makes a killing not for the costume, but the kitschy sadness of it; she's got wrinkles in her face deep enough to be a standing card catalogue, bless her heart.

Hollywood is filled with audition rejects, the almost famous, the almost has-beens and all sorts of delusional and dejected souls in between. Rejection wears on you, and as you continually get beaten down by casting directors or the open guitar case that never seems to collect any change, you start inching away from Hollywood. You start to believe that Hugh Grant is sneering down at you from his lofty perch on the billboard in the sky. You back up further and further west, all the way to the edge of the continent. Last stop? Venice Beach.

The acts in Venice Beach have quit Hollywood and the idea of being discovered altogether. Once you're in Venice, you'll settle for any attention whatsoever. And if you retreat any further West, you'll simply drown in the Pacific. The streets teem with gang members, aging ex-hippies, freeloading kids on semi-vacay from their privileged homes, white trash and out-of-towners.

There's the dude in a thong who stands on a bucket and holds a fake wooden snake. Or the guy who outlines giant butterflies on the sidewalk with pennies. Or the singers who screech into microphones, blaring feedback into an annoyed audience. The beach-side hippie drum circles with vegans that reek of vegetables and sweat. The really bad breakdancers who always seem on the verge of spinal injuries as they spin atop flattened and ratted up cardboard boxes.

Some acts do pretty well. The dude (pictured top) with the swami headgear is showcased in many movies, including Casey Niccoli's cult classic, Gift. The guy gets so much cash, that he literally skates around with an ATM machine strapped to him, in case you'd like to make a donation but lack the immediate funds. At this point, he's getting paid for being famous. And within the Venice community of cut-throat-yet-lazily-stoned street performers, he's famous for getting paid.

Fringe Binge! Show #7: White Trash Wedding and a Funeral

You have to give these guys props for the name. The cast of White Trash Wedding and a Funeral  looked like they had a lot of fun doing the show, and the feeling was contagious. They would randomly break out into the song Motorin'. Actors Jacob Smith and Phil Kelly perfected their roles as a borderline-special-needs Wayne and Garth. The tempo was fast-paced and jokes were sprinkled in everywhere.

The play was not without some anomalies. All of the characters sported a deep Southern twang, though the setting was in Illinois. The poor South - people always inherit Southern accents when imitating stupid people. We also had trouble understanding what the character Shirley was saying at times.

But all in all, it was a visual blast of caffeine, and a dern tootin' good time.

Fringe Binge! Show #6: Orange Flower Water

Orange Flower Water is the best show at Fringe I've seen so far. Even before the play started, you were sucked in from the chaos of L.A. to a warm, quiet ambiance. It was as if the director and producer were fattening us for the kill, since the play was going to hurt. Orange Flower Water provides a brutally honest snapshot of two marriages unraveling in real time. We were welcomed by dim lights and a long staircase lined with flickering candles. We were brought to a bar where I was poured a glass of red wine. And it was good wine. Finally, we settled into plush seats, and as indie rock played in the background, I noticed that the stage had a full-on set. It was a breath of fresh air after the minimalist black boxes at Fringe. Granted, I know that most Fringe shows don't have time to deck out their stage due to quick-turnover productions, but it was a welcome change nonetheless.

This show had so much going for it, it was bound to be a success. The play's Emmy-nominated writer Craig Wright also wrote for the show Six Feet Under, a series that certainly knew its way around dysfunctional marriage. Director Stephnie Feury has much experience under her belt (she's been an acting coach for 17 years), and the cast was phenomenal. None more so than Mick Thyer, whose character goes from lion to lamb in a matter of minutes, as his wife packs her bags to leave him. The transition from cocky bastard to pitiful cuckold is heart-wrenching. This guy is going places.

Leslie Liberman's character surprises the audience with her goodness, giving an almost hopeful spin to the whole thing. Actors Jeff Denton and Sarah Ann Schultz (who struck me as a brunette Gwenyth Paltrow) are also strong actors in their own right. It takes a certain kind of talent to be able to tease laughs out of a dramatic situation, and yet in the midst of a fight, the audience would break into laughter over slights. Perhaps because the subject matter is familiar, but definitely due in part to this top-notch production.  

Abusive!

Us East Coasters can get a bit nostalgic for Waffle House, the chain of breakfast restaurants off of southern highways. The warm orange and yellow glow of the sign is a shining beacon for weary travelers everywhere. Families with children take over the more upscale Cracker Barrels of the south, but Waffle House is a house of worship for truck drivers, traveling rock bands, drunk college kids and fans of hash browns that are as addictive as crack. 

I think this is why they built The Waffle here in Hollywood. It's decor gives a playful wink to the familiar browns, oranges and yellows from old truck stops. But the menu is an out-of-control Waffle House menu on steroids and psychedelics! 

Who needs Roscoes for chicken and waffles? If the hip hop crowd doesn't know, they'd better ask somebody! This is fried chicken, greens with bacon bits, white sausage gravy, and jalapeno cornmeal waffles smothered in maple syrup, fool!

 Of course with all these carbs, we responsibly ordered some healthy green vegetables. 

Well sweet home Alabama! Biscuits and gravy! 

Onion rings. Nom nom nom nom nom...

Happy ending: Red velvet waffle with cream cheese sauce

Baconfest: Ignore the hipsters and enjoy the meat!

Angelenos, don't let the hipster fascination with bacon get in the way of you enjoying this salty treat. Ignore the hoards of bearded men in flannels learning to cure meat and stuff sausages as they sip their homemade craft beer. They can't take bacon away from you!

To call Baconfest a celebration of all things swine is an understatement. Held at the San Diego County Fair, I can assure all that it is most certainly worth the drive. But don't take my word for it. I will let the photos do the talking. This is a MUST DO for Southern Californians, no matter the city.

bacon cotton candy - salty and umami-licious!

bacon-wrapped BBQ chicken, honey ham, pulled pork and spicy mac & cheese

deep-fried bacon-wrapped pickle - mmmmmm

bearded hipster selling cured meat? surprise, surprise, surprise

fluffy bacon waffles

bacon pie!

bacon jerky 

bacon sweets made to order 

great displays

bacon ice cream

Fringe Binge! Show #5: It's Important to Leave, As Well

If you think a play called It's Important to Leave, As Well sounds out of left field, wait until you see the show. The frazzled stage manager storms in front of the house, threatening suicide. The actors come and go as they please, completely absorbed in their own personal dramas as they rehearse scenes. The writer/directer interrupts often, calling everyone out on their agendas.  

In this fast-paced play within a play, viewers are treated to an inside look of the human condition that is so prevalent in stage productions. Actors falling for one another in real life after faking intimacy on stage, female frenemies in competition with one another, and yet another whining man-child who makes selfish decisions.  In fact, I believe one of his excuses for infidelity was, "I kissed her so I could experience the reality of your reaction to it." Yep. It was so pathetic and yet so familiar, the audience burst out laughing.

While the gratuitous stretching on stage in short shorts was a bit confusing, I'm sure the boys appreciated it. In all, Joshua Morrison's play was clever. The actors were very talented. The sexual tension between Marisa Persson and Mikie Beatty was palpable. Director Scott Marden helped exacerbate the unpredictable twists, and the bits of sadness that were interspersed with humor. The highs and lows made the production feel real, and touch close to home.

Fringe Binge! Show #4: Rodeo Town

David Lynch called. He wants his play back.

For anyone who craves that eerie noir feel and the relief that comes at the end when they are brought back to real life, this is their play. It didn't take long to get sucked into the lonely desert enclave of Rodeo Town. The acting was impeccable. Combine that with a few bottles of whiskey, a wood fence and a picnic table and within minutes, you were a million miles from The Beverly Center.

The darkness in this play is hidden at first, slowly unfurling in layers until your skin crawls. When the character Richard (played by Dustin Gooch) accidentally stumbles into this forgotten place, it was almost a sigh of relief to see someone with a Smart phone and pressed khakis. He reminded us of a more secure, familiar place, if only for a few minutes. It didn't take long for Garth (played by Eric Cire) to work on deconstructing Richard, and sucking him into his deranged web at Rodeo Town. Cowboys within Garth's web struggle against the control he has over them, including Lonnie, played by actor Harry Beer. Beer seems to be another character straight out of a Lynch story, (specifically Bob from Twin Peaks). Weakened by alcohol, his attempts to rise above the cult of personality dissolve before good is done.

Tension mounts as the cowboys (and their new guest) prepare for the biggest night of the year; a whiskey-soaked party where women (who only visit once a year) are expected to attend. But all the hootin' and hollerin' in the world won't prepare them for the one single woman who does show up. After this night, Rodeo Town will never be the same.