Friday, July 28, 2006

LA Times Calendar, "Get Past First Stop" Dec. 23, 2004 article





I started writing for the LA Times back in September 2000 after a horrible stint editing websites for a major studio in town (you know the one). This story is one of the last articles i turned in to my editor, a piece for the Calendar section's 'Tell' (LA Times' version of a "Sex and the City"-ish column). I'm proud of this story---it was 'effortless'---not an ounce of deadline panic, worry, writer's block or pressure to produce for a major daily with little time for perfectionist tendencies--it came as easily as the conversation I had with Vivian that day back in December.

The story details how I met John (aka "Josh"), but really, it's an ode to the wisdom and wealth of hilarious material my girlfriends bring to my life. Vivian (whom I've nicknamed Bibimbap, pictured here) in real life is as cheeky and wizened as she seems in the story below; yes, she is ravishing, delightful, talented, intelligent, stylish, child-like and also laugh-out-loud funny. I owe this story to her. Thanks Viv!



December 23, 2004

Get past 'First Stop'
First Stop is the pseudo-campus for scores of the post-college actor, comedian, model, Midwestern set, who arrive in the city not knowing any better.

By Heseon Park, Special to The Times

Sitting under the hazy West Hollywood sunlight, my Italian friend Michaela, a well-traveled expatriate, broke out the reason for our meeting under the soft filter of cafe umbrellas and the glints reflecting off everyone's dark Pradas: "You have to meet Josh," she said, stirring her café au lait.

"Well," I replied — sipping my soy chai and looking at the parade of hip-hugged, spiky-haired, denim-clad Eurocentric types (Valley residents, for all I knew) — "describe him."

"Josh is not your typical L.A. guy," she said in her ennui-inflected European accent, "but he is not a nerd, either."

Meaning: Josh didn't have a screenplay, novel or film in the works, nor was he in a band, AA or Scientology, nor did he regularly employ an agent, manager, publicist, hairstylist or yoga instructor. He had neither head shots stashed in his trunk nor five new premises for the next reality show. Josh, according to Michaela, didn't seem to be suffering from any of the neuroses afflicting residents of this helium-filled "America's Next Top Model" episode of a city.

What sold me, though, was that Josh was not a resident of "First Stop, L.A."

My friend Vivian, herself a First Stop resident, was the first to coin this term. It refers to the area bordered by Santa Monica Boulevard to the north, Wilshire Boulevard to the south, La Brea Avenue to the East and La Cienega Boulevard to the west, populated by industry types and first-time Angelenos.

First Stop, L.A. is the pseudo-campus for scores of the post-college actor, comedian, model, Midwestern set, who arrive in the city not knowing any better. I myself was a victim of First Stop, L.A. After graduating from UCLA, my first real place was a chockablock rental located squarely off Melrose. The area is hip, young, fun. With its revolving door of new entrants and streets teeming with car washes, coffee bars and trendy urbanized joints, First Stop, L.A. represents not only the hopes and aspirations of a legion of transplants but also a segment of dating that gives L.A. a bona fide bad-hussy reputation.

"The area around Urth Cafe is First Stop, L.A.," Vivian says. The Coffee Bean at Fairfax and Sunset is, according to Vivian, "Sooooooo First Stop, L.A.! That whole Virgin Megastore/Crunch area too."

Dating in these parts is all about "eye candy, all image and 'what you can do for me,' " says Vivian, a transplanted New Yorker who aspires to move out of First Stop. "Dating revolves around career. You're either hot and young and look good or a studio executive."

Most people who come to L.A. aren't focused on settling down, says Vivian. "Either you're a writer who's developing a sitcom or you're a producer, director, actor; it's all about what you do." If L.A. is such a toxic dating vending machine full of quick snacks, a city that exists more in the pages of InStyle magazine's list of ins and outs, I took the idea of area and identity into consideration.

Meanwhile, my friends' relationships have migrated eastward. Girlfriends of mine are dating boys who are decidedly outside of First Stop. They reside in the up-and-coming and affordable areas of Lincoln Heights, Highland Park, Eagle Rock, Pasadena and even the South Bay — First Stops for first-time home buyers intent on building nests and not, say, relationships with the doormen at Miyagi's.

"He lives in the 'hood, Lincoln Heights," says my friend Minnie, who's just started seeing a guy named Joe. "He does what he wants, and not just because everyone else is doing it."

That Michaela's available bachelor, Josh, actually lived outside First Stop seemed a refreshing thought. I was curious: He sounded like the kind of guy I'd like to meet. But Michaela warned me, "He is not trying to be cool. He's not trying to look like an actor or anything either."

As in, so Josh probably wasn't the Jude Law look-alike bartender working at Formosa Cafe (a First Stop watering hole), nor was he trying be anything he's not.

Iquickly made a mental log of disasters in my recent dating past: the indie musician living in K-town without health insurance; the artist/painter living in First Stop, L.A.; the aspiring actor from New York City whose greatest role yet has been as a stand-in in a made-for-TV film; the aspiring novelist/barista/future unemployed schmo. Hmm. What did I have to lose?

I guess the parable here is that most guys would score points just by being themselves — to have the courage to live in L.A. and not be sinkholed in someone else's idea of success.

Dating outside of First Stop, L.A., would mean meeting guys who use less product in their hair than I do. Imagine that, a man who doesn't call hair product "product." I told Michaela, "Give the guy my number."

copyright 2004 heseon park

Thursday, July 27, 2006

deniro, my superstar cat

seen on the pages of apartmenttherapy.com is my supercute kitty, deniro. he's the spokespet for a pet decor contest the site is running...if you or anyone has got cool pet digs, enter at the link.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

another obsession

good friend and tastemaker gregory sent this link, and i'm now a big fan.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

my recent obsession

sad to say, this to see what i've been up to at work. this is what happens when you work in 'tween music.

what's become of me. i think i was cool once. not anymore!!! ha ha ha. have a good laugh.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Goal!!!

Another shot of the recipients of John's "Soccer Balls Around the World" project. Larbanga, Northern Ghana. Posted by Picasa

Larabanga Village Kids

John just got a letter in the mail from the teacher we met on our February trip to Ghana. Obusco sent along photos of the kids wearing the t-shirts we sent. One of the kids is holding the soccer ball, in the middle.

He was part of a teaching program that re-integrated kids who had never been in a classroom with English classes so they could start at the official school. Obusco was nice enough to invite us into his classroom. We sat at the desks with the kids in that hot classroom, and we became part of the English lesson. "Nice to meet you, my name is ..." and back and forth. The kids were adorable, and they broke my heart. We wanted to stay longer, but class was getting out and I was getting so hot in that room. But it was good to see what a rural village classroom was like--they didn't have much in the way of school supplies or paper or books. Most of the parents of these kids kept them from going to school and now they were behind. In Obusco's letter, he proudly states that about 50 kids would start at the regular school in August. Calling us the 'mother and father' of the school, he also said that we were the only foreigners to visit the kids at school and that we were the only ones to help sponsor them. That really affected me and made me believe that every little bit helps. Even some school kids in some way-off village in Northern Ghana, in Sub-Saharan Africa. You'd like to believe that somehow it can make a difference in this vast world. And perhaps it did, judging by that letter. We're no Bill and Melinda Gates here, but that care package, which I had thought wouldn't amount to much, with its t-shirts, school supplies, and the soccer balls, did somehow get halfway around the world and it did land, and these kids are somehow benefitting. It somehow takes the edge off the feeling that one gets that the world's problems are immense and the overwhelming 'what can I do' conundrum, every time I read about drought, poverty, civil wars, strife in the news. I'm somehow heartened by the fact that if people need help, one needen't turn a blind eye.

I'm glad we did it and in the future, I'd like to visit the kids again one day. They were truly precious. A big thanks to everyone who participated in John's "Soccer Balls Around the World" t-shirt project: Diana and Sarah (Caro Marketing and Gotcha). Fashionistas unite!