2005-04-16

walkin' in LA, part TRES

Day 3, Los Angeles - there were two things that I absolutely HAD to do while in Los Angeles:

• take the Dearly Departed tour.
• Eat at Astroburger.

Today was the day that Paula had arranged for us to take the "death tour," and I was practically incontinent with excitement. I am a big, big Death Hag, and have been since I was but a wee li'l spore, when I much preferred to linger lovingly over images of the Titanic, Lusitania and Hindenburg disasters in my parents' encyclopedia than go outside and mingle with my peers, a fact which probably contributed largely to my difficulties in adolescence.

Boy howdy, I couldn't wait to see the actual locations of the Manson murders, River Phoenix's fatal overdose, and poor Marie Prevost's inauspicious end.

We were greeted cheerily by our able guide, Scott, who looked at me quizzically: "Do I know you? You look really familiar." I get this often, as I apparently have numerous doppelgangers, but I prefer to think of this as his having recognized one of his own kind.

Soon enough, we were off and running. The spot where William Frawley hit the pavement with a fatal heart attack! The cigar shop where Bela Lugosi stopped in every day right up until he died! The Menendez house! And, of course, the sites of the Manson murders (the Tate house has been torn down, replaced by some peachy-colored manse that STILL hasn't sold; the LaBianca's house, creepily, looks almost exactly the same). All along the way, Scott kept us in stitches with his running commentary: "David Spade is an ASS. He throws rocks at tour busses." "Oh, the Lady In Black? When she died, her daughter took over, and let me tell you, I've talked to her, and she is as crazy as a rat in a coffee can."

He also made frequent mention of his "dead friend," talking about what a great guy he was, and showed us a little vial, containing a portion of his ashes, on his keychain.

I turned to Paula. "When I die, I want you to promise me that you will carry my ashes around on your keychain. I'm totally serious."

"I promise you that I will do that. Better yet, I will put you in a big, honking ring."

"Yeah! And the top has to flip open, and there has to be a little mirror inside so you can check if there's LIPSTICK ON YOUR TEETH!"

"YEAH!"

We shook on it. The rest of our fellow travellers looked at us like we were insane.

Midway through, Scott pulled the van up alongside Will Rogers Memorial Park. "What's the saying that Will is famous for?"

"He never met a man he didn't like!" Paula piped up.

"That's right. He never met a man he didn't like....and neither did George Michael. We will now take a 15 minute break, here at the VERY public restroom where George was arrested for indecent exposure."

As we exited the van, Scott handed us each a copy of the ACTUAL ARREST REPORT ("His right buttock had some sort of circular 2 inch Band-Aid type patch attached to it. He was not wearing any sort of underwear.").

Back in the van, where we were taken to the house where one of my all-time favorite movies ever was filmed. This house is not far from the home of Valerie Harper, who, according to Scott (and we have no reason to doubt him), "lets her dogs crap all over her neighbors' lawns."

I met Ms. Harper once, and mentioned that she was very pleasant.

"Well....fine....but she still lets her dogs crap all over her neighbors' lawns."

Awesome.

There is so much more I could say about my experience, but I'll leave it at this: if ever you are in Los Angeles, you MUST go on this tour. Scott Michaels is comprehensively TITS.

to be continued.... NOTE: all photos by Paula Kelley. Happy now, felchtart?

lisamcc at 10:13 p.m.

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