LA Tour Diary August 2024
Days of Despair
I won’t go into what it costs to travel round trip from Connecticut to Los Angeles, coast to coast as it were, but even with the most budget of airlines, the most econo of rental cars, and the cheapest Air BnB one can find, it comes to more than the $57 I earned in book sales. Not that I was expecting those to cover any significant part of the trip, but I was hoping that traveling more than 6000 miles would result in selling more than just 5 books. There was also all the people I didn’t get to see. Leaving me, as I write this now, disinclined to return to this city I once loved. But the trip didn’t start out that way. In fact once I got there, after busting my ass all summer to be able to afford this, the first two nights it seemed like it might go rather well..
Wednesday August 14th
Up at 7, again on little sleep. Wish I didn’t worry so much. Feels inevitable when money is the issue. Little sleep and broken at that. But Mercury is in Retrograde and things have been so unlucky lately anyway, there’s no way I’m risking missing my flight. As it is, I grab the 9:06 train and arrive at JFK four hours before departure time. So I sit outside and eat a peach, a nectarine, and a whole carton of blueberries that would’ve gone to waste in my fridge. I do my second TM meditation to clear away the cobwebs in my mind and finish up the latest installment of The Counterforce and publish it. A small plane to Raleigh to catch a connecting flight to LA. Where luckily there’s a BurgerFi with a Beyond burger. Amazingly I hear the women ahead of me in line order the same exact thing I’m going to, so we get to talking, about veganism, LA, and books. I should’ve opted out of the fries but the warm meal did hit home. I read a bit of The King Of Good Intentions II by John Andrew Fredrick, my very talented writer pal who I’ll be ‘in conversation with’ on Saturday and am once again very impressed by the formidable energy with which his writing flows. I listen to a bit of Wodehouse’s Money In The Bank and then it’s time to get my own writing done for the day. And am enjoying it so much, I press on longer than the 1 hour 9 minutes I usually do. And after posting about comics in the last Counterforce, Steve Horry and my The Beekeeper has been on my mind. Would be really nice to get at least the first few scripts into book form, if not the full 15 or whatever it was (read the very first one here). At some point I catch a few minutes of sleep and feel revitalized. And it’s so nice to be back in LA, 70 degrees at night, much cooler than at home.
I get to the rental car place though and I’m gutted to realize the Economy car I’ve rented is no frills whatsoever, not even Bluetooth, and the audiobooks I’ve lined up for the trip will have to go unlistened to through all those long hours driving around LA. Through some money complications with my cards, I’m not able to upgrade. This is genuinely upsetting to me because it will be a lot of time in the car, and while I resolve to make the most of it, and talk writing ideas into my phone if I need to, it would’ve been nice to listen to stuff. Amazingly, they take quite a while to find a car for me, to the point where they eventually apologize and tell me to just take a mid-sized SUV of my choice, a free upgrade. RESULT! I drive to the Air BnB in Alhambra feeling pretty good about things. Drop my stuff off and head out to Atwater Village, where I used to live, to reorient myself and stretch my legs. Feels good. I’m hungry so I use HappyCow for the vegan options and find a diner over by Skylight Books in Hollywood that has a vegan menu. But I’m not really into it and then I remember Thai food is always a safe bet. I head to Pattaya Bay Thai who are open til 2 (it’s now past midnight) and when I walk in there’s some country karaoke going on. I order up my go-to Drunken Noodle and listen to the music shift to Madonna, then, to my most pleasant surprise, a guy gets up and does an old family favourite – Kyu Sakamoto’s Sukiyaki. I’m smiling so big the hostess comes over and asks me if I want to sing. Why not? I’m back in LA and it feels good. So I kick off this adventure with my rendition of Burning Love.
Thursday August 15th
Air BnB is nice and I head to Millie’s in Pasadena, where I used to love getting breakfast. Sure enough, the Vegan Mess is delicious and afterwards I head to a park down the road where I used to enjoy just sitting in. When I get there some butterflies are flitting about. My dear departed friend Andy Shea’s mom believes butterflies are a sign that Andy is with us at that moment. I like this idea. Especially since before this I always associated butterflies with Nabokov, and when Andy and I lived together he quickly devoured the complete works of Vladimir N that was in my bookcase.
There was a reason I flew in early, besides wanting to see friends and get my books into more shops. Stress is still tough post-concussion and I knew such a long, involved trip would wear on me, and boy am I feeling it. Want to be in top shape for the events this weekend so trying to take it easy while still getting stuff done. I head to North Figueroa Bookshop, the site of Saturday’s ‘in conversation’ event, and where I had shipped 30 books ahead of time so as to not have to transport them coast to coast. I want to grab a handful to take to other shops today and tomorrow. One thing I’ve found, that is almost impossible to do when you’re on tour, is to stop into the venue early, ideally days ahead of time, to make sure that your book is visible and the event is being promoted. I was on the calendar board but all my books were in a box in the back. It was easy enough to say ‘can we display this so people know about Saturday?’ and up went a stack of Sporting Moustaches on the front counter.
Plans to see folks today and this evening have fallen through, so I take myself to a cheering-up dinner at another of my favourite LA spots - Grand Central Market’s all-vegan Ramen Hood. And one of my favourite names to boot. I go for the garlic, which contains Black Garlic Oil as well as cloves and more, and it is DELICIOUS.
Then it’s on to the Glendale Tap where Joe Rumrill has told me he’s on a comedy show. Joe’s a very funny man. I first saw him at the punk basement Never Got To Be Cool in New Haven, CT back in 2019 and was so impressed that I asked to be on my show Skintight Buffoonery in Brooklyn a few months later. Skintight Buffoonery was to be an all-absurdist comedy show as opposed to the more varied Bat Soup nights I’d been doing, but we only ended up doing one. When I tried to move back to LA in February 2020, Joe was visiting, and the last time I went out before the world shut down was to catch him do a set in Highland Park. And he ended up staying out west all this time
Tonight he’s hilarious as usual, I love that opening joke “sometimes you’ll find me on a bus…” (see above), and it’s good to hang, something we’ve never done before. He doesn’t drive so - as I state, “I have literally nothing else to do” - I give him a ride back to Hollywood and we chat about comedy and music. Turns out Joe was in 2 Ton Bug, a band I’d always heard about but never actually listened to. As I’m driving a lot on this trip, one day I throw on their record and it is very good energetic garage rock, my favourite being Moon Dater
Friday August 16th
Wake up to some cool news about the Ballad Of Buttery Cake Ass audiobook (OUT NOW, get it wherever you get audiobooks, even your library). Then it’s get on the mission to get it in stores. Vroman’s in Pasadena says they’ll order a couple, then on to the comic shop Secret HQ which is in Atwater Village now. Feeling kinda low as more plans fall through, I hightail it to The Iliad Bookshop in North Hollywood, one of my favourite bookshops in the world, and where the day I left LA in early March 2020 for a safer cheaper place in Idaho I stopped and stocked up on reading material. Then on to Lost Books in Montrose, very nice but don’t take new ones, and finally to Skylight and sign their copy of Cake Ass.
I finish Wodehouse’s Money In The Bank, which was good but not one of my favourites, and the plan is to start Will Self’s autobiography Will. But while it’s extremely well-written, and the subject matter is darkly fascinating, when I’m trying hard to stay positive about things, I’d rather have something that would make me laugh and feel good. So once I’m back home, feeling really low about coming all this way and still not hanging out with anyone I had planned to, I borrow Wodehouse’s The Luck Of The Bodkins from the library, which turns out to be just the ticket, and one of my favourite Wodehouses.
Saturday August 17th
The big day. First event of the trip at 5 o’clock. To Millie’s again, where it’s a 45 minute wait for a table. So I buy two black metal Path water bottles at the Rite Aid across the street (though seems like I’ve walked all the way back to the 1980s) and pass the time in my car rehearsing the story I’m gonna read today. I do some good writing - speaking it into my phone - on the drive back to the Air BnB. En route, I have to fill the tank already after not even three days here. Home, write some more, shower, meditate. Back on the road, the metal on the water bottle has gotten so hot from leaving it in the car, it burns my lips. ‘Instant tea’, someone will later comment. Listening to The Luck Of The Bodkins, much better for the spirit.
To Kitchen Mouse, just down the road from North Figueroa Bookshop. Ask to say hello to the owner, Erica, as she was friends with Andy too and he was the one who told me about this place. She asks how I knew Andy and I get choked up when I reply ‘he was my best friend’.
A delicious banana walnut muffin for the road and on to the bookshop. Great to see John Andrew Fredrick, and we get talking to a passing Brit who is on her way to Burning Man. At 5:05 when no else is there, I feel that familiar sinking into despair as I could very well have flown 3000 miles to again speak to no one.
Luckily Liz O and her husband show up, followed by Emery sporting a fantastic tashe of his own. Bless them all for coming. Emery, exhausted as he was after work, drove an hour to get here. It’s a funny thing, almost everyone who told me they would ‘definitely be there’ never even bothered to send me a message as to why they didn’t show, whereas those who said they’d try, did text in their regrets. And had perfectly reasonable excuses. And the messages were appreciated. I know it’s a different culture out here but politeness costs nothing.
I read the first half of An Early History Of The Three-Faced Race - like the Three-Legged Race but contestants tie their moustaches together - during which, a few minutes in, the passing Brit leaves, then JAF asks me questions and it’s a lot of fun. By all accounts ‘very funny’ and ‘highly entertaining’.
Lou Mathews - who I’d been hoping to meet this trip, after he was the last guest, along with Jim Gavin, on the Etcetera ETC. With Aug Stone podcast - shows up right when we get to the questions, and he’s told the two people in the audience who I don’t know to come, what a mensch! Lou will later tell me we should’ve filmed this, as it was ‘very funny’.
Everyone has to split afterwards but Lou and co. invite me for Villa Tacos, much appreciated for the company and having something to do. Delicious vegan trio of tacos and we hang for a couple hours as they drink homemade margs Lou brought along. I really enjoyed myself. Though after this I feel very Johnny-No-Mates, on my lonesome on a Saturday evening in Los Angeles. So I put on the new Charly Bliss record and drive around. It’s really good. They always cheer me up. The one time I saw them, I had been having an awful day, wasn’t even gonna go to the show, but within a couple songs I was elated, in love with live music again, and pushing my way up front. Eva is one of the most magnetic performers I’ve ever seen
Suddenly I realize I had left my book at Kitchen Mouse, calling to confirm just as they are closing . Luckily I make it back there in time as that would be the kicker to be alone and not even have my reading material with me. I head back to Atwater Village. At Kava Kulture, where the old Starbucks was, I get a Red Kratom tea and it actually works, I feel much more relaxed. Much needed too as times have been so tough. This year really feels like it’s trying to completely crush me. And it’s done a pretty good job already physically and emotionally. So it’s constant battle stations against the darkness. I do seem to possess a spiritual resilience. Though, given the circumstances, this might very well be misguided.
Sunday August 18th
Up early. To breakfast. Hostess remembers me from 2020. Always nice to be remembered, especially when you’re feeling forgotten.
I honestly thought Sporting Moustaches would be the one to break through. Although it’s my characteristic sense of humor, even ‘normies’ have read it and found it really funny. The only thing to do is press on with the next one. Which, when we’re talking about a book, is at least a year of hard, concentrated work. When Nabokov’s The Original Of Laura was released, I went to a talk about it at the Barbican (I think, somewhere in London anyways) and one of the writers on the panel said ‘a novel requires stamina’. This phrase has always stuck with me, and especially lately. And I’m currently at work on two books, vying for who will be ‘the next one’. As usually happens with me, midway through a book I get a fantastic idea for another one, that I realize I should stop and takes copious notes about.
My brain’s been feeling a little off lately too. Like before the event yesterday I really hoped I would be able to focus and think clearly enough to express everything I wanted to. Cause it very much didn’t seem like this was currently happening. Feeling that today. So I make sure I meditate again before I head over to Echo Park. And leave good and early to get a parking spot. Which I do, right around the corner. Sometimes Life throws you a frickin’ bone. I use the Sage gift certificate my sister got me in April 2020 for my birthday, when I wanted to help keep the businesses I like afloat and was under the impression I’d be back in LA in a few months, not over four years later. Sage has really changed since they started serving meat. It seems like the vegans have spoken. They used to have a long waiting list on weekends, but this summer Sunday afternoon the place isn’t even a quarter full. And they’ve taken my favourites off the menu - The Soul Bowl and the Mac N Cheez balls. But my good friend Joe is waiting outside when I finish and it’s great to see him. We head to Time Travel Mart and my old co-worker Evelyn is there, great to see her too, and she’s brought some friends, always awesome. Evelyn tells me she’s thinking of taking up the bass as being in a band sounds fun. I do my best to encourage this.
The reading goes well. I hit everything I want to in the story - the first seven minutes of Three-Faced Race and get laughs. Afterwards, two women tell me my writing reminds them of their favourite author, John Kennedy Toole. Which is quite the compliment indeed! I’m thrilled about this. Though it’s only Evelyn who buys a book in the end. I’m the only boy on the bill and - except for opener Kona’s story about buying a ‘titball’ in Japan and trying to bring it back on the plane - the only comedic part. The other ladies are more intense, personal, though very good stuff too. David Rocklin, who runs the show, and seems a helluva good guy, tells a story about having jury duty with Ronnie James Dio, which is one of the best things I’ve ever heard. I pack up my books and Joe and I go on a two hour walk up Sunset Boulevard and back just like the old days, him pointing out historic sites like a bar used in Repo Man, and us talking of the important things in life - our favourite Thai restaurants, the early history of RATT, what British slang I’m using these days…
Monday August 19th
The events themselves were great. And I’m always going to give it my all and entertain no matter how many people are there. One of the best shows I ever did was to six people in an NYC basement on Avenue A. But it would be so nice to have a good-sized crowd. The times I have have felt amazing, like what I should be doing with my life. And I’d love to make it that way all the time. Lord knows I’ve tried. But if Life is teaching us lessons - and I’m not too jazzed about the idea that the purpose of Life is to always be learning lessons - for me recently it’s to appreciate things are they are. I did my best and while the events were happening they were very enjoyable for everyone present. Best not to dwell on the disappointments, huge as they seem. And anyways there’s still work to be done today. Get to all the bookshops on the West Side that people have recommended. And I better be in top form as I’ll have 43 books to carry home if I don’t unload them. Out to The Daily Planet where Nick Cave’s Bar sold pretty well. But Amy’s not in today. Cool to see the place at least. As I’m looking for parking, I spy a space on the opposite side of the road and execute a 19-point turn to take it. The blonde woman in the car going the other way who gets stuck behind me flips me off as she passes by. And rightfully so. Or so I think she does, for she parks too and within a few steps I see her and apologize. She won’t hear of it, lovely woman, and we chat until the end of the block, her even taking a Sporting Moustaches postcard. Then to Chevaliers, where I give a damaged book to the dude behind the counter who seems interested. I can’t sell it, so why not? Another someone at the counter is from CT and I hear about the flooding back home. Continue on to Zibby’s, Diesel, Village Well, all recommended, all without a book buyer in today. I’m so bummed out in Culver City I decide that another bowl of Ramen Hood will soothe my saddened soul. Dial it up on the map to find it closed today. HappyCow what’s near - Monty’s Goodburger, a sort of vegan In N Out. And man is it just what I need. Shirts with their name in classic punk logos. I get to chatting to Briana behind the counter, very nice woman. Feel better as I leave. Head to The Last Bookstore. Where the owner has told me they’ve carried my previous books but no word on Sporting Moustaches. Hoping to change that. But no such luck. No one there to talk to. No one around this Monday night either to hang out with. I head to the all-vegan ice cream shop Dear Bella Creamery for the loneliest single scoop you can imagine. A cup too, as they’d ‘just run out’ of gluten-free cones.
Make it to the new Amoeba before closing. Cool to see The Ballad Of Buttery Cake Ass on the shelf.
I text Emery on the off-chance he’s free this evening, and bless him, he is. We didn’t get much of a chance to catch up on Saturday, though he did buy two books. He also lives pretty close to where I’m staying, so we meet up at another ice cream shop in Alhambra. And this place is hoppin’! 10 pm on a Monday night and they’re pumping club music as a steady stream of people come and go. Great to catch up some more and salvage this most lonely of days.
Tuesday August 20th
When I bought my cheapest-of-the-cheap tickets through Expedia, I had not seen that my JetBlue flight back east did not allow a carry-on bag. And when I go to check in, they try to charge me $70 for this second bag. I’m having none of it. The zipper broken anyways on my carry-on, I decide to leave it behind, and stuff everything in my suitcase. The one already bulging with all the books I have to bring back. Well, I’ll wear a hoodie, cram stuff in the pouch, and fill all my pockets as well. I ain’t payin’ that 70 bucks. I haven’t slept well the whole trip due to an overly large pillow, sleep positioning waking me up every three hours or so. Which happens again. And at 6AM I know I better just roll with it. Mercury still in retrograde and I best be getting to the airport bright and early. Again, no troubles there. Feeling very disappointed about the whole trip but no choice now but to let it go and move on to the next thing. When I go to check my bag, it’s overweight by nine pounds and they want $150 to cover this. I say ‘gimme a minute’, pull out 8 books and just start passing them out. The lovely woman behind the counter asks for one, which starts a domino effect of others hearing this and coming up to me for theirs. Wanting me to sign them. Like I’m some famous author or something. I happily oblige. The whole thing putting me in mind of the ending of Donleavy’s The Ginger Man when he goes to London and is handing out fivers. I feel great after this whole experience
So let’s leave it there