June 21, 2006
Every so often I run into a friend in Los Angeles who was originally from New York on the streets of West Hollywood. I say, why does he seem so different here? Then I get it. This rather glum, shy fellow with a former anger in the eyes is now smiling.
"How you doing?" he grins and then he kisses me on both cheeks.
"Oh," I say to myself, "this person had been in West Hollywood long enough to absorb California friendliness — galore!"
What else? This fellow was reclusive and now he's running from party to party, openings, weddings, you name it, he wants to be there, Mr. Social. If it's not social, he gallops to the gym and walks on the treadmill, bikes, anything that moves.
And women? You might ask, does he play around? In New York he was married to a Brooks Brothers suit and shoes, thick glasses, a beehive haircut and she also bore his children, none of whom he really liked very much. In those days he didn't smile, remember?
Today, he sports a California so-called singer with streaked hair, dark sunglasses, big boobs and silver shoes, even if they are sneakers. She is also not into making children, and is he ever grateful for that one.
Finally, what now matters to this reborn fellow? What do you think? Take a guess. West Hollywood, celebrities, of course. If he can say that he went to a well-known actor's house, what do you think he does next? California style? Smile, of course. Then he calls them on the cell phone.