12/11/22
Newsletter #185
The Crack of Dawn
Back in 1977 when I was 18 years old and first lived in L.A. I would frequently wander around Hollywood late at night. I felt like Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, thinking, “I’m God’s lonely man.” I kept a Buck knife (that I had gotten for my Bar-mitzvah) in the pocket of my green army jacket. Only the weirdest of the weird came out at 3:00 AM. At that time Hollywood was loaded with hookers wearing Danskin one-piece bathing suits, stockings and high heels. It was also teeming with transvestite hookers, and boy hustlers. So, I went into the Howard Johnson’s on Sunset Blvd., across from Hollywood High, which was one of the few places open 24-hours. The place was jammed with hookers – perhaps 40 – both female and transvestite and the two groups did not like each other. I sat down, got coffee and pancakes, and read my book.
Soon a commotion started. A black hooker and a black transvestite got into a yelling and pushing match, with each side loudly cheering them on. The hooker kept yelling, “At least I got a pussy.” In response, the transvestite picked up a bottle of maple syrup and broke it over the hooker’s head. Then a general melee broke out. Plates, silverware, and bottles of syrup went flying through the air, smashing on the walls and floor. I don’t know what I was actually reading, but in retrospect I feel like it should have been Heidi. Soon the supremely bored Hollywood cops showed up and began hustling the hookers out of the restaurant. Finally, all that remained was the initial black hooker, now standing on a table, waving around a plastic coffee jug as a weapon. A cop said, “Come down off of there.” The hooker continued with her assertion that, “At least I got a pussy.” The cop repeated his order three more times and was ignored. Very casually, the cop took his nightstick from his belt and jabbed the end of it hard into the hooker’s bare midriff, which doubled her over. He then grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.
Now, all that remained were about ten cops, the waiters, and me. All the cops came to my table, surrounded me, and began questioning me. I said, “I was reading my book – Heidi – and didn’t really see what happened.” An Israeli waiter stepped in to give the cops a detailed account of what happened, and I slipped away before being dragged into court as a witness.
My buddy John thought this was interesting, so I’ll put it in. I got back here to the hotel the other night and Mogambo (1953) was on, so I watched it for a while. It’s an OK remake of the 1932 film, Red Dust. In the 1932 version the bad party girl is Jean Harlow, and the pretty, married, good girl is Myrna Loy. In Mogambo the bad girl is Ava Gardner, and the good girl is the astounding, transcendently beautiful, Grace Kelly. Both versions star Clark Gable. He managed to remain a sex symbol for 20 years, and may be the only actor to star in the remake of his own film.
And with that I wish a very good day.