Live: Here for It, #333

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

I have been in LA for almost a week and now I look like this:

The Griffith Observatory is, I believe, the home that Melanie Griffith bought with the money she made from Working Girl. It's high atop a hill that overlooks LA and gives you a great eye-level view of the Hollywood sign. I'd never been and, as will become obvious, I had done absolutely no research and asked absolutely no questions.

Instead, upon leaving a play in the UCLA area and realizing it was Golden Hour, I decided I wanted to catch the sunset from the Griffith Observatory and so I just typed the address (1 Melanie Way) into my rental's CarPlay, turned the volume up on a podcast about the movie Magnolia, and started driving the hour and 10 minutes it was predicted to take.

This week is my first time driving a car in LA. As you may know, I didn't drive a car until I was 35, mostly because I have a little thing I like to call anxiety. And even though I now know I'm a good drive, there are still some cities that I was too nervous to drive in. LA was at the top of that list.

But, this trip, I had too many meetings and appointments to make Ubering all over the place a workable option. (One of my favorite things to do is terrorize people in LA by telling them I'm just going to walk someplace, but even I knew that that wouldn't work this time.) So, I rented a Malibu that I do not like very much and hoped for the best.

It turned out that everyone in Los Angeles also thought it would be a cute idea to watch Golden Hour from Melanie Griffith's house because I sat in standstill traffic all the way up to the top of the mountain. And then, close to the peak, they directed away and back down the other side. I was getting farther from the Observatory and started taking photos out of my car window because sometimes when you're sightseeing you're just like "Uh, I get the gist. Whatever."

I'm almost certain that I missed someplace where I was supposed to turn or turn around or something but this was a two lane road--one in each direction--and there didn't seem to be anything else to do except keep going until I reached the lower parking lot, which signs told me was a walkable distance to the Observatory.

Now, when I think Lower Parking Lot, I think "Oh, a two-level Target in the suburbs. Oh! An escalator ride." Girl, this lot was so far away! It was all the way back down the mountain! I was like, "Where do I park?" and they were like "Universal Studios."

There is no crosswalk leading from the lower parking lot to the "walking path" up the mountain so I just darted across all "Meep Meep" like the road runner and started hiking a mile back up . Now, mind you, I'd just come from a play so I was still in a cute button down that I did not plan on perspiring in and wearing my "can I see what's happening across the proscenium?" glasses. I wasn't dressed for mall walking, let alone hiking.

But I did it because I love a caper. And because my inspirational quote for the foreseeable future is a line from a Gwendolyn Brooks poem: "This is the urgency:  Live! / and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind."

Lemme tell you, though, this whirlwind got a little noisy, honeyyyyy!

I get to the top after like 30 minutes. I say hello to Melanie and her daughter Dakota Johnson. The sun goes down and I think "I should probably get back while it's still light out."

Apparently, I cannot out-walk the rotation of the Earth. I was walking down, filming what I hoped would be a funny video on the theme "Girl, what am I doing" when it got too dark to even see me (racism).

Look at this Blair Witch-ass screenshot! EMBARASSINGGGG.

And then, in the darkness, I started hearing all these little scritches and scratches in the bushes. I was completely alone, trying to powerwalk quietly so as not to draw the attention of whatever beasties were out there in the dark. And I kept having to restart the video because something would move in the distance and I'd start yelping. And a DM from my friend JJ came in that read "watch out for snakes." And I was like "Gwendolyn Brooks, you got me messed up out here, honey! I'm about to be mugged by Yogi Bear."

It was terrifying lol. I had to duck a BAT! I got bump rushed by a DEER! What is this, The Happening?

I'm like laughing and screaming and perspiring in my little theater shirt. This is what I get for trying to walk someplace in Los Angeles. I was certain I was going to be attacked by something and yet I was still filming drafts of my Instagram Reels, which is the most LA thing I can think of.

At one point, mid-video, I heard someone running up behind me. I turned and saw a jogger and I was like "Oh, good, maybe he will kill me."

I came to a fork in the path that I definitely did not remember before and at that point I was like "Babycakes it is over over." The headline is going to read "VeryOld Man Comes to LA, Meets with Agents, Sees Betty Gilpin Possibly at SoHo House, Dies in Melanie Griffith's Yard." (WHAT NEWSPAPER IS THIS WITH THIS LONG ASS HEADLINE?! HOW DID THEY KNOW THAT THING ABOUT BETTY GILPIN? WHY DIDN'T THEY MENTION I ALSO SAW DANIEL SUNJATA STUDYING THE MENU AT A LUNCH TRUCK WHILE ON A BREAK FROM FILMING HIS NEW SHOW?)

Anyway, stop the presses. Tell Gwendolyn Brooks I lived.

Eric!