Los Angeles, California

We landed at LAX about 8:45, a few minutes early. Pushed and shoved to get our bags. There were at least 3 major flights using one baggage carousel, which made for a crazy experience. We also waited for what felt like ages to get a cab, and wound up with a driver who either didn’t speak much English or didn’t hear all that well. One way or the other, we drove 20 minutes or so in the wrong direction before LVL figured out that we were going the wrong way. The driver apologized profusely (several times) and gave us a huge discount. I think he was more embarrassed than anything.

Said a quick hi to Adam and Amber before picking up our car. Can’t thank them enough for keeping such a close eye on the Subaru. Thanks to their diligence, we found the car in one piece. Hallelujah.

Found a decent Mexican place, Tlapazola, for a quick bite to eat. Carnitas and a Pacifico for me; Veggie Enchiladas and sangria for LVL.* The food was pretty good, but could have arrived a bit hotter and with a touch more seasoning, at least based on what I ordered. For a late-night stop [Ed. note: …and one not at all researched on Yelp or otherwise], not bad at all.

30 or so minutes later, we arrived at our spot for the weekend, a beautiful 2BR apt in West Hollywood on Huntley just off of Melrose. Couldn’t ask for a better hook-up. Vacationing-friend-of-Spence’s: you are the man.

Still very much on Hawaiian time, we stayed up until 3:30 or so watching, of all things, NBC’s new show, “Parenthood.”

*The alcohol – hibiscus infused tequila – was served separately from the drink and arrived in a little shot glass. When I first sat down after a trip to the john I thought LVL had ordered a drink and a shot. Par-tay.

Going to bed at 3:30 am almost necessarily means waking up a bit later than usual. Owing mostly to jet lag, we spent much of the morning in bed. We managed to get up and out of the house by about 1, heading straight for Santa Monica Blvd, about 10 minutes on foot from where we’re staying.

We sat down outside at basically the first place we saw, a French-run crepe place. On one hand, bad move. The food was pretty bad, the service was slow, and mostly in broken Frenglish. We both had versions of the same thing: a brie/mushroom/egg crepe (mine had bacon; LVL’s came with spinach), and were mostly disappointed. Maybe we should have taken as a sign the fact that our waiter, a wispy, p-tailed French dude, almost forgot to tell us that the restaurant was out of brie, and then offered to substitute some other cheese he could barely enunciate. We agreed, only to find that the cheese-that-could-not-be-pronounced tasted like sour toe jam.

On the other hand, we had a great time drinking coffee and people watching. Of the several great sights, our favorites included the supermodel-sporto lesbian couple wearing day-glo shoes/bathing suits; the nerdy out-of-towner who probably needed a make-over before getting the kind of attention he wanted [Ed. note: He made himself over a bit during his run to put money in the meter; he returned with about five more buttons undone on his shirt than when he left.]; the several beefy/steroidy [Ed. note: presumably] gay dudes walking to and from a nearby gym, most of whom wore tank tops; and the oddball valet guy who seemed to be absent when anyone wanted to get her or his car back.

Not our finest culinary hour, but an early afternoon of good cheer. A short walk back to our place and a few hours of much needed “work.” We washed our tent/rainfly/tarp and hung them each on the railing attached to the deck toward the back of the apt. We unpacked and repacked the car top carrier and much of the car, throwing away a bunch of stuff and preparing for three more weeks of driving.

About 6:30 or so, Spence picked us up and together we drove through Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and Bel Air, past UCLA and several “maps of the stars” spots on our way to the Getty Museum, which offered free admission (always) and free parking (on Sat after 5 pm).

The museum, set above the city on an expansive, gorgeous piece of property, is visually arresting. The museum’s several buildings (all of which are of unique and interesting architectural style), courtyards, fountains, gardens, vistas, etc. are spectacular in and of themselves. The collection is enormous and very diverse, from what I could tell. We spent our rapid-fire 90 minutes split between a photography exhibit* and the impressionist collection. Won’t soon forget the guy taking self-portraits in front of Van Gogh’s “Irises,” our own self-portrait in front of the creepy Goya painting, and the hilarious scene on the balcony overlooking the city skyline.

After the museum, we drove back to West Hollywood for Sushi at Ari-Ya. We started with ono sashimi served with a very flavorful but not at all spicy jalapeno sauce and moved from there to several sushi rolls. All really fresh and flavorful. As per usual, I was on clean-up duty, gluttonously shoveling in the last several pieces as we chatted about Keith Menig, Entourage, and the livability of Portland, OR.

* Which included pieces from Sebastiao Salgado’s “Migration” collection, shots of the civil rights era, Vietnam, fat camp, medical procedures related to the Iraq war, and an environmental tragedy in Japan, among several others. Light and fluffy, not so much.

Another jet lagged morning that doesn’t begin before 11. Running late (again), we head to Santa Monica to meet Adam* and Amber for brunch. Meet-up scheduled for 12; we arrive at 12:30, stressed and completely over LA traffic. Thankfully, A/A were able to secure a table at Jack and Jill’s and maintain their seemingly always-cheery dispositions.

Jack and Jill’s was the perfect choice. A small, sunny cafe with good food and frequent coffee refills. LVL got a veggie egg dish, which she reported loving. I also really liked my bacon-egg-tomato-avo-cheese on sourdough. Not sure I’d feel this way if asked about it tomorrow, but I think right now, my favorite part of the meal was the blueberry muffin we shared as an appetizer. Adam was right, the muffins do taste like angel food cake. So good. We chatted about their baby (due Sept. 1, 2010), our wedding, life in LA, and lots more. Great to get some time with them. Hope they don’t hate us (me) for showing up late.

After brunch we fed the meter and took a walk down Santa Monica’s Third Street Promenade. Great people watching, beautiful weather, and nice to have the time/energy to spend a few hours walking around. One of the best things seen all day: A girl, probably about 10, spies her youngish mother violently kissing someone (someone she knows? her boyfriend? no way to really know.). The girl does the ‘two fingers to her eyes/two fingers pointed toward her mother’ and says in an aggressive, unhappy, almost menacing tone, “I see you. I SEE you.” Classic.

From Third St to the Santa Monica Pier, where we did more people watching, marveled at how anyone is willing to submit to such a cramped/crowded beach experience, and took a bunch of pictures of the ferris wheel, the rollercoaster, and the natives. Just before leaving, I gave myself over to a gymnastics/breakdancing street show while LVL checked out some really awesome store.

Another loooong drive down Santa Monica Blvd back to West Hollywood, where we showered and chilled for a minute or two before heading back out onto LA highway system headed for Manhattan Beach to hang out with Kyle** and Catherine. Surprisingly, little to no traffic and a very quick drive.

Met at the door by K/C’s three beagles, Miles, Bodie, and Tex. Lots of barking, but more excitement than alarm. Took a quick tour of their house, man cave, and back yard. Incredible, all of it. The decor was cool, the kitchen was expansive and smartly done, and the amount of outdoor space was absolutely enviable, especially given the premium on real estate in their part of the world. Would love to have options to pick from when deciding where to spend an evening outdoors. Tonight, honey, I’m feeling like the hot tub. Does that work for you? I’d also be remiss if I neglected to mention Kyle’s “man cave,” formerly the garage, now an ode to jam bands, football, and lazy Sunday afternoons. Um, enviable.

Final note on the house: If given the choice, LVL and I would both also live among the “trees,” who sacrifice a view of the water for lot space and a yard, rather than with the “sands,” who opt for ocean views instead of any sort of land.

After a glass of wine on their back patio, we hopped in Kyle’s Prius (!!!!!!) for a quick ride “downtown.” Manhattan Beach doesn’t really feel like LA so much as it does a wealthy, mostly white surf town. No real complaints here, especially given the beach, the sunset, and the weather perfection. Fun to walk by “Bella Beach Kids” – a kids' clothing store for which LVL’s friend from high school is the buyer/creative mastermind – on our way to and from dinner at Rock’n Fish.

While waiting to sit down, the four of us took a short stroll from the restaurant to the pier, where we watched the sun set and the surfers and body boarders negotiate the pretty decent sized surf. Among the crowd on the pier, I think both Kyle and I preferred the dude who had “Lopez” tattooed in 8 inch block letters across his shoulder blades. An interesting concept.

As far as the scenery goes, Manhattan Beach Pier – and the city in general – is hard to beat. Though not exactly the same type of quiet, idyllic scene as we had in Kailua, the deep white sand beach, which stretched from the road to the water (complete with tons of volleyball courts) and completely unobstructed views of the ocean is the stuff of postcards. Hard to even compare the scene here with the one was saw earlier in the day in Santa Monica. I also really liked the view of town from the water, with the houses piled on top of one another, seemingly in an effort to give as many people as possible a view of the water from their homes.

The meal itself was really nice.*** We started with grilled artichokes and then moved on to various seafood dishes. LVL and Catherine ordered the crab cake sandwich; for me the grilled Ahi sandwhich; Kyle had a piece of fish as well. On top of the seafood, it is very much worth mentioning the high quality of the "Rock’n sides," especially the mac and cheese.

All in all, a great way to cap our short stay in LA. So much fun seeing Kyle and Catherine, and to be able to check out Manhattan Beach with them. They seem happier than ever and enjoying life in a beautiful setting. Wish we lived closer so that we could spend more time with the two of them, Spence, Adam and Amber, and the several other friends we have in the area.

* A high school friend of LVL’s.

** A college friend of mine.

*** Curiously, our evening also provided LVL and me with our second close encounter with the NBA. This time, we were seated right next to the coach of the Miami Heat, Erik Spoelstra, a fact confirmed by some dude asking to have a picture taken with him.

Started the day packing up and loading the car while LVL went for a run through West Hollywood. With laundry done, car packed, and everything in place, Spence, LVL, and I walked to lunch at Le Pain Quotidian on Melrose. A nice, quick, meal on the patio overlooking the street, and a final hour or so with Spence. Great to be able to spend so much time with him, and can’t thank him enough for making arrangements with his friend Mike to let us stay in the apartment. We really couldn’t have asked for a better set-up.

About 2 pm or so, we set out for Palm Springs, about 2 hours way, under the best of circumstances. We hit traffic as soon as we got on to the highway. For almost three hours, we alternated between bumper-to-bumper and busy-but-steady traffic, arriving in PS about 5.

LA is an interesting place, a city that I had a great time visiting, and enjoy in short spurts. The weather is incredible, and we have a lot of good friends that have relocated there, but I’m not sure I could handle full-time residency. The “business” and all of its trappings conflict with many (most?) of my core sensibilities. It’s cliché to complain about how superficial people are in LA, but there seems to be some truth to it. I’m not sure I’m cut out for life among models, actors, and behind-the-scenes jerks.