Heroes

In case you haven't heard, NBC has seen fit to release the first season of its runaway hit Heroes on DVD. The late summer release, will of course, give viewers just enough time to get through the dvds before the second season premieres in October. I've yet to see an episode of the show, although I hear from a number of people I trust that it's very well done.

Moving further down the dial, I have seen several episodes of Sci-Fi Channel's reality train wreck, Who Wants to Be A Superhero?, and while it is without question one of the stupidest things to ever see the light of day, for some reason I keep watching it. This is the brainchild of Spider-Man creator and all around Marvel Comics god Stan Lee, who has apparently run out of ideas of his own and has turned to the great unwashed masses to provide them for him. A coast to coast "talent" search brings out a group of hopefuls who vie to become one of Lee's comic book creations. Pictured above is Hygena, whose superpower is that...she likes everything to be really clean. When I say that one of the other contenders, Mr. Mitzvah, begged off of one of the challenges due to a pulled hamstring, you'll understand what sort of high octane television we're dealing with here.

What does this have to do with living in Hollywood? While the winner of Stan Lee's competition gets to star in both their own comic book and a purported Sci-Fi Channel original movie, other heroes have to scrape together a more hardscrabble existence. Last night on Hollywood Blvd, across from the Chinese Theatre, I saw Spider-Man, and well, he's looked better. He was waiting for the light to change, pulling an overloaded black suitcase on wheels behind him. His Spider costume was dirty and faded, fastened at the back by a safety pin, and he seemed to have high red socks pulled on over his shoes instead of the requisite boots. Spidey is one of many "heroes" who hang out and pose for pictures with tourists on the block between Highland and Orange. Whether they hope to be discovered or just make a quick buck off of gullible visitors, the overall effect is pretty depressing. There's another guy in a Chewbacca suit who's been busted TWICE by the LAPD in recent months for decidedly unheroic activities. I mean if you're going to get busted by the cops, do it with style, which brings me, last but not least, to my new favorite superhero, Naked Leopard Man:

I believe I also was fortunate enough to see Naked Leopard Man's spiritual twin as I walked into the Virgin Megastore at Hollywood and Highland. Standing right outside the store was a shirtless man, wearing a leopard print loincloth and matching leopard print sandals. Sadly he skulked off into the night before he could be photographed, but I have no doubt that if Naked Leopard Man should ever need a sidekick, Shirtless Leopard Loincloth Man will provide.

A Midsummer Night's E! ve

So Last night was the Comcast Entertainment Summer courtyard party, which is one of two the loving corporate parent throws every year to placate their disgruntled work force. One employee, when asked if they were looking forward to this year's event replied, "Yeah, I finally get to drink what I'm worth." In addition to the copious amounts of free booze, the company also brings in a big name entertainer to do a brief set. The set is filmed, then hastily cut together as a one-off "summer concert special." This was my third Summer Courtyard Party, having had the good fortune to start my tenure at the company the week before it was going down in August of 2005. That was the year they brought in red hot Kanye West, who gave new meaning to the term "phoning it in." I don't think he even managed twenty minutes. This was mere weeks before his post-Katrina statement that "George Bush doesn't care about Black people" brought him even more notoriety. Last year's event was perhaps the best of the three. New E! golden boy Ryan Seacrest kicked off the event with a shockingly naughty "Fuck work!", and headliner Ludacris actually came to play and delivered a full 45 minute set. Which brings us back to this year's event. Sadly, Mr Seacrest seemed to have other obligations this year, so the big introduction was left to E! movie critic Ben Lyons, who apparently had decided that a grey sweater vest was the appropriate fashion choice for this occasion. I was pretty well lit by this point, so I don't really remember what he said, but eventually Lyons gave way to this year's headliner, hip hop diva and ex UPN star Eve. Sadly, her Summer Courtyard style was more Kanye than Ludacris, and I'm sure she didn't stay on stage for a minute longer than her contract required. She did, however, say 'fuck' a lot. The end of the evening's entertainment means the clock is ticking, as the company only allows the booze to flow for another thirty minutes before they send everyone home. Then the serious drinkers move on to the "afterparty" where they can set about the real business of the evening; hooking up with co-workers and then figuring out how to avoid same when they see them in the halls the next day. Unless, of course, you're like me, in which case you watch the games unfold for about an hour, and then use a company issued cab voucher to speed happily home to your fiancee.

Unholy Trinity

Now playing or coming soon from loving corporate parent Comcast Entertainment Group:

After a brief flash of sanity where it was decided that the hard hitting insights of Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie on the Simple Life may have run their course, E! has decided to give Hilton sidekick and fellow attention whore Kim Kardashian her own reality show. This clip touches briefly on the show, as well as other pithy topics such as Playboy TV and Jessica Simpson's boobs:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=7tUs38o-nzY

If the affection shown to Ms Kardashian here by her interviewers is any indication, E! may have a runaway hit on their hands. That being said, even if the show beats the odds and lasts more than a season, it would be hard to imagine it topping this little clip from C.E.G.'s latest upstart, G4:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIY20nIUZjE

G4 enjoyed their best ratings month ever in July, and if they continue to cook up great TV like this, I'd say the sky's the limit.

Oh, yeah, and there's also the Style Network. Once considered to be the bright future of the company, they'd better watch their back or G4 will turn them into C.E.G's red headed stepchild. Here's a clip from a new Style show featuring Kimora Lee Simmons, who I've never heard of:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=rG9VJB-e3cQ

Oh, she's a Model, Mogul, and a Mom? I had no idea!

Terrazzo and Brass

One of my favorite pastimes during the summer is to look down and see which stars tourists are posing for pictures with. I have no doubt that Michelle Pfeiffer's star (which was installed today) will attract plenty of visitors. Not so Tod Browning, whose star I passed on my way home the other day. A former circus performer who went on to direct other circus performers in the 1932 masterpiece Freaks, his beautiful yet disturbing work endures to this day. Unfortunately, the same can't be said of his star on the Walk of Fame, which has a sizable crack in it. A visit to http://www.hollywoodchamber.net/ revealed the following facts about the Walk of Fame:

1. The stars themselves are made of Terrazzo and brass. For those of you unfamilar with Terrazzo, the always helpful Wikipedia has got the scoop: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terrazzo

2. People can be awarded stars in one or more of the following areas: Film, Television, Radio, Music, and Stage. Gene Autry is the only person with a star in each of the five categoies.

3. There is a "sponsorship fee" of $25,000 that must accompany all sucessful nominations. This pays for the ceremony, the star, and its upkeep.

4. New stars are voted in every June.

5. Posthumous stars may not be awarded until at least 5 years after the nominee's death.

Finally, I sent an e-mail to the chamber about the crack in Tod Browning's star. I have no idea what kind of a response I'll get, if any. Stay tuned. Mr Browning's star can be found at 6225 Hollywood Blvd. Ms Pfeiffer's is at 6801 Hollywood Blvd.

Neighborhood Watch

Yesterday around 8 am, my peaceful Sunday morning slumber was interrupted by the sound of someone screaming at the top of their lungs. A look out my bedroom window revealed a thin woman with long scraggly gray hair marching up the center of the street. (I was unable to get a picture at the time, but I've included a picture of the street for context) She was accompanied by a male escort, who matched her stride for stride, but who seemed to content to remain silent while she screeched her message. Since her back was turned to me by the time I actually looked out to see what was going on, it wasn't easy to make out exactly what that message was. The only sentence I was able to decipher: "I am your goddamn neighborhood watch! Get the fuck out!" About five minutes later, the fearless twosome was joined by both an LAPD squad car and a fire truck, and within the hour, the excitement was over.

Hezekiah Un-Incorporated

As I was waiting for the bus at Hollywood and Gower on Friday, I noticed a sign that stood out from the otherwise nondescript strip mall that occupies that corner. On the second floor, directly above the Subway, sits Hezekiah Incorporated. I'd noticed the sign before, but this time I made a mental note to investigate further. A google search didn't reveal much at first, but eventually I came up with a phone number, which I then called. A male voice answered on the second or third ring:

"Hezekiah." I told them I was wondering what they did. "What do we do?" He asked me. I told him I'd seen their sign while waiting for the bus, and was wondering what they did. After a pause, he told me that they used to be a medical marijuana clinic, that is until DEA agents raided them last week. Further investigation seems to suggest that Hezekiah was likely one of the establishemnts targeted by the feds in a large scale raid throughout the city last week:

http://lacitybeat.com/article.php?id=5913&IssueNum=217

I expressed my sympathies to the voice at the other end of the line, and asked him what they were going to do now.

"I don't know," he told me. "I'm not going to be answering a lot of questions on the phone, I can tell you that.

Hollywood, USA

During the first few decades of the movies, many films would end with the words "Filmed in Hollywood, USA". Tim Burton even used this at the end of his Ed Wood biopic. This started me thinking that Hollywood is not just a myth or an idea or an industry, it's also a place. I should know, because I live there. It's not a real city; technically it's just a neighborhood of Los Angeles. In fact, as many of you are doubtless aware, it began as a real estate development. Eventually, what had started as a hillside billboard was transformed into a cultural icon. The funny thing is, in spite of it's worldwide fame, not that many people live in Hollywood proper, and that's what this whole thing is about. Since I am currently employed by a celebrity obsessed cable network, there will be occasional talk about the "industry", but what I'm really aiming for is to give some idea of what it's like to actually inhabit the streets of "Hollywood, USA". The title of this is a nod to Budd Schulberg, who God bless him, is still alive.