11704 Wilshire Blvd (@ Barrington)
Los Angeles, CA 90025
Whether business or pleasure, there isn’t a whole lot of activity in the week that follows Christmas. People are worn out after two months of furious foreplay. It begins with a trick and a treat, progresses through a series of fall flirtations, advances to holiday cooking, carding, partying, and shopping hell, then finally ends on Christmas morning when a huge, sprawling pile of beautifully, painstakingly, expensively wrapped presents under and around the 9-foot tree that was decorated by (not)Martha is reduced to a tangled heap of torn up gift wrap, shredded curling ribbon, and gift receipts. All that acceleration, all that build-up, all that exponentially increasing intensity leading to an ideal Christmas climax that explodes in a matter of…minutes.
Rather anti-climactic, imho.
So in that week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, people take it easy, and companies have to follow suit. The last few companies for which I’ve worked, the entire office completely shut down. It was a company-mandated, company-wide, week-long holiday. Why pay people to work when there is no work to be done, and whatever little work that might happen to pop up isn’t worth the the overhead to turn the lights and heater on?
Technically, because this is what is commonly known as “dead week,” I should have this time off from work. I should, but I don’t. Two words: Web 2.0 start-up in the consumer products retail space. Sorry. That’s eight words. The two words are: fuckinginsane (one word) work.
If this were a slow week for me, like it is for every other normal person with a normal life out there, I would be taking a break from work and would be spending quality time with my family. I’d be repairing relationships with friends whom I’ve neglected all year. Maybe I’d be resting and relaxing in quiet, curled-up time on my couch with all the books that are petrifying under deeper and deeper layers of archaeological dust on my nightstand. Perhaps I’d be on vacation in some remote area without Internet access.
Remote area? Anywhere by car is not a remote area, and furthermore, I would never go anywhere that didn’t have an Internet connection. What do you think I am? Crazy?
A slow work week also means that I would do one of two things in The Delicious Life. Either, I would finally be able to pay some much needed attention to my favorite pasttime that I have had to relegate to the corner of my laptop for several months, blogging, and catch up on all the old posts that are backing up in my virtual queue or that at go blog-“lite”; OR at the very most I’d post a thought-provoking photo accompanied by a first draft paragraph.
Yes, I’d force myself to relax and publish…without editing.
That’s what I’m doing. This week, don’t expect any of the funny, witty, clever, intelligent, brilliantly engaging well-written writings from me. I am on vacation.
It’s on the southwest corner of Wilshire and Barrington.
When Bandera first opened a really long time ago but not really that long, I used to go there often, even though it is related to the chainful Houstons, because the food is my favorite all-American done in a slightly swanky style. I was bucking fananas for their cornbread. I would order cornbread and a cocktail. It was the best grain-based meal ever.
I stopped going to Bandera because it turned into a mature hipster scene. Hipster scenes are not bad. Mature hipster scenes make me feel sad. They also didn’t take reservations so having to wait 45 minutes in the bar/lounge where I was forced to witness mature hipters hit on each other made me even sadder.
I went back because my favorite Bay Area Boy came to LA for a visit and we wanted to have a drink. We sat at the bar. He had a Manhattan. He spied the piano in the corner where on certain days some unknown musical group plays live background mood music. He walked over and played it.
I fell over.
Too bad he is Pumpkin Pie.
And now I think I am a mature hipster.
** a year ago today, homemade macaroni and cheese had a temper tantrum **