The Year of Living Dangerously in LA

In the past several weeks I've had the fortune/misfortune of visiting three of LA's iconic outdoor venues, including last night's live performance by the LA Philarmonic to score the classic and underrated movie Amadeus. 

Maybe you don't picture me a classical music buff or someone given to the antics of one Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but you don't really know me, do you?

It was an incredible evening made even more incredible by the handy dandy shuttle bus which eliminates the need to park (expensive) and gain egress (road rage inducing) of this amphitheater tucked in the narrow canyons of Hollywood.

I have been getting out more, trying to recapture the mojo that had been depleted by the pandemic, the presidential nightmare of 2016-2020, the ups and downs of Cancer, the multiple cases of caregiving, and the mourning that literally had me bouncing, painfully, upon the rocky bottom floor of Life's Marianna Trench.

And while it's been a joy to feel alive again, it's also been eye-opening in less than joyous ways. And by that I mean I'd like to focus on rabid exploitation that would send the average Angeleno running back to the safe and affordable confines of one's living room.

First stop -- Dodger Stadium. After making the 1/2 mile walk from the parking lot to the ballpark, we were told told that no bag bigger than a Kindle would be admitted. That necessitated another walk to the car to deposit the offending and security violating accoutrement. Once in the stadium, it was time to purchase some dinner and adult beverages. I knew it would be expensive, after all we paid $25 just for the privilege of parking the car. 

But I had no idea it would require a home equity loan for a couple of Dodger Dogs, peanuts and two beers. By the way they don't sell small beers, only these mammoth sized cans that resemble pony kegs. And don't even think about adding relish or diced onions or sauerkraut to your $11 encased mystery meat. They've done away with that option. 

Actually, the good folks at Chavez Ravine never offered sauerkraut which always seemed like a crime to a former New Yorker who likes his dogs purchased from a street vendor who carefully boils them in water that came straight from Hudson River.

In addition to the Dodgers losing to the Twins, the $$$ experience left a bad taste in my mouth.

Second Stop -- The Greek Theater. There are very few singers on this planet with a unique and inimitable singing style and distinctive phrasing. Sinatra comes to mind. Neil Young and Sonny Boy Williamson come to mind. And so does Robert Plant. In addition to his stellar work with Led Zepellin, he's made amazing music with the Honeydrippers. And most recently with Alison Krause. 

But it would appear the same folks in charge of the concession stand at Dodger Stadium are also bleeding Southern Californian's of their hard earned (Ok I'm a copywrriter, it's not that hard earned) cash. 

Exhibit A: Bottled water and a double Maker's Mark on ice. Price: $65. That's without the tip.

Here's a tip, next time you go to the Greek, hide a flask of whiskey in your underpants.

Third Stop -- Hollywood Bowl. Here too the unsuspecting entertainment-seeking Angeleno is more likely to be fleeced than the recipient of an email from a wealthy Nigerian Prince. After shelling out the equivalent price of a floor model dishwasher at Best Buy, it turns out the wallet leeching has just begun. Like their counterparts, the Hollywood Bowl concessionaires only serve beer from the Big Big cans. 

If you were to drop one of these $21 adult beverages on your foot, you would likely need a visit to an orthopedic toe surgeon. But, only after you sold a 20 or so shares of Apple Stock to cover the cost.

But there is one saving grace to the HB. In what should be a hospitality lesson to their colleagues at Dodger Stadium and the Greek, they allow concert goers to enter, with minimal search-age, with their own grub and grog. What a concept.

In my humble, but deadly accurate opinion, and I have concurrence from Ms. Muse, the Hollywood Bowl has emerged as the winner in this unofficial comparison "consumer journeys" at SoCal venues.

I like being treated like an adult and given the option to brown bag my own outdoor dining experience. 

And though it's unnecessary at this point, having won the contest, the Hollywood Bowl people could earn serious brownie points if they also offered boiled hot dogs, steamed sauerkraut and spicy Gulden's Brown Mustard.

Oh and it has to be served by a stout guy in a cabbie chomping on a cigar. 

And his name has to be Louie.