Category Archives: Hollywood
J.A.M. Sessions began in 2008 at the John Anson Ford Amphitheatre. The idea is that these events are both free and participatory. The Ford’s summer series is put on by the Los Angeles County Arts Commission, which has an entire program called “Free Concerts in Public Sites.”
These free concerts have expanded in the last 5 years and now there are free J.A.M. Sessions in 5 locations throughout the county, from Newhall to Watts.
On the steps of the venue was a jam session lead by Ben Guzman of Triple Chicken Foot, and on the stage of the Egyptian influenced deco stage was a square dance called by Susan Michaels. Though the 1200 seats were mostly empty, there were over 50 dancers hooping and hollering around the 93-year-old theatre’s stage.
For more about J.A.M. Sessions check here: http://www.fordtheatres.org/en/events/category/id/37
Whether or not you believe in the practice of people with no artistic ability scraping money away from those who do have ability, you can at least commend these record promoters for their fine taste. Over the years, Capitol Records has been at least partially responsible for delivering Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, Garth Brooks, and Radiohead. They also had the good sense to hire Welton Becket, famed Los Angeles architect, whose 13-story design resembles a stack of records.
For those of you Jet Rag Dollar Sale virgins out there, I’ve crafted a “How-To” guide because if you don’t know what you’re doing, well, you’re simply not going to have a very good time. But when executed properly, one can spend virtually no money and score several gems digging through these parking lot piles on Sunday mornings.
What to bring: Water, Small Blanket, Several $1 bills, A friend
Arrive between 10:15-10:30 am. There’s no sense in getting there any earlier. You’ll simply wear yourself out. (Don’t forget to put money in the meter because this part of Los Angeles doesn’t believe in the rule of Sundays.)
Lay out your small blanket anywhere you can. This is now your home base.
Peruse the piles, but don’t sell yourself short- the real goods are in the plastic wrapped bundles. Around 10:45, meander over to the bundles. Hover, get close, and don’t let anybody else push in front of you.
The man with the cutters will appear. He will announce the rules… something along the lines of “You must wait until the last bundle has been opened.” He will reprimand you if you break the rules. Your fellow vultures will also yell, point, laugh, and you will become a dollar sale enemy. But, a slight lunge is highly recommendable.
3, 2, 1, GO!!!!! Grab everything you can. Go Gooo GOOOO.
Drop everything at home base and cover with small blanket. If you’re feeling super motivated, stand behind someone else as they dig through their pile and snag their rejects.
Once you feel your pile is sufficient, start sorting. If you’re with friends, don’t forget to ask them about an item before tossing it back in the big pile because once it’s gone, it’s gone!
Jet Rag is located at
Heading up Beachwood to Sunset Ranch, there are many signs that declare “NO ACCESS TO THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN.” However, the fire road to the summit of 1708 foot Mount Lee gradually rounds its way to the top with incredible views of both the city and the Verdugo Mountains. Once you get to the top, the fences and barbed wire and NO TRESPASSING signs make it inaccessible, but you can still get pretty damn close. This is not to say nobody’s accessed it before… some have even executed alterations like HOLLYWEED and GO UCLA. Go figure.
“We’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow,” is all some might know about the magical land of Kokomo. But, in other circles, Kokomo is a town in Indiana named after the last of the Fighting Miami, “Chief Kokomo.” I speak of this town neither because of its Indian Chief of note, nor because of the 1,500-year-old Sycamore stump on display at its visitor’s center. Rather, I speak of this town because Kent Twitchell painted a monument for one of Kokomo’s natives, Strother Martin. And while “What we’ve got here is…failure to communicate,” might be all we know about Srother Martin, he’s remembered nonetheless.
Just South of Fountain on Kingsley. Kent Twitchell. 1971.
Some architecture buffs gawk at how Italian it is. Others complain this structure solidifies the fact that nobody walks in LA. Others feel creeped out reflecting upon the “The Long Goodbye.” No matter how you feel about it, don’t you wish you had your own private elevator?