Nocturnal Admissions by Steve Adelman

Author:Steve Adelman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Santa Monica Press

CHAPTER 11

BEYOND THE HOUSE OF PIES

“I love Los Angeles.

I love Hollywood.

They’re beautiful.

Everybody’s plastic, but I love plastic.”

—ANDY WARHOL

In 2003, the city of Hollywood (not to be confused with the “Hollywood” that serves as a moniker for the entertainment industry) fit into the “seen better days” category. It had become widely known for its crime, cheap celebrity trinket shops, and sightseeing destinations, such as the Walk of Fame with its sidewalk-engraved stars (“fame” meaning willing to write a $40,000 check). Few hearty souls ventured into Hollywood after dark, unless they were there to meet their favorite hooker or dealer. It was explained to me that nobody seeking a decent social outing was going to go there in the foreseeable future. Perfect. While others envisioned scenes out of the movie Escape from L.A., I saw something else entirely: opportunity.

I was sure of two things that formed this go-it-alone confidence. Tastemakers (people who had considerable influence over others) actually preferred to venture into unexplored and “dangerous” areas for nightlife; they just needed the right reason to. It gave them a sense of adventure and the feeling of being the “first in.” I initially encountered this phenomenon in New York City’s Meatpacking District, which was characterized by its “tranny” hookers and their truck-driver companions. Lotus, the first club to set up shop there (with Donald Trump as one of the investors, allowing John Miller to “drop it” as Trump’s club for his ladies-man narrative), became an overnight success, leading to the area becoming a nightlife hub.

Mankind has been dancing since the beginning of time, and we aren’t about to stop. Growing up, my family’s business was in wholesale groceries, and Mel would always tell me: “No matter what happens in the world, people will keep on eating.” He just forgot to add, “ … and dancing.”

However, this wasn’t the widely held view of Angelenos, who were quick to point out that no one went out dancing in Los Angeles, and they barely ate, for that matter. Only two things mattered: making movies and producing records. There just wasn’t time for anything else. Everyone had to look their best and rise early for casting calls (or the potential for one) and spend their time writing lyrics in Laurel Canyon before heading to band practice. It was all about being healthy, and nightclubs were viewed as the opposite.

What a bunch of bullshit that turned out to be.

With this viewpoint being generally accepted, the best entertainment option after midnight, besides a weekly party thrown by Brent Bolthouse and his partner, Jen Rosario, was the House of Pies.

After listening to these well-intended lectures about nightlife in L.A.—and remembering my father’s words—my newly informed opinion became: you don’t know what you don’t know. It seemed ridiculous that, somehow, dancing was reserved for the LGBTQ community, as if straight people in L.A. were strictly governed by the Beaumont town charter.

The venue at 1735 Vine Street had now taken on two new names, one of which was an homage to its haunted history: Spider Club and Avalon Hollywood.

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