Memory Lane

Last week, SD and I were in California. He had a conference in LA, so I accompanied him. While he was meeting in Century City, I drove around my old stomping grounds. Rather than shop on Rodeo Drive (as if I could afford it anyway), I drove east on Sunset Blvd., through West Hollywood and Hollywood.

I grew up in the shadow of Universal City and throughout my teenage years I couldn't wait to turn 18 so that I could do whatever I wanted. What I wanted and what my parents expected didn't jive so shortly after my 18th birthday I moved into my first apartment. It was in Hollywood and the building had seen its heyday about four decades prior to my moving in. The rent was $84 a month and came furnished. It was a studio apartment and had a Murphy bed--it folded up into the wall when not in use. The curtains were made of plastic and the other tenants in the building were of questionable character.

But it had high ceilings and built-in woodwork. I once stayed at the Mark Hopkins in San Francisco for a business trip and after several days realized how comfortable I felt in the room. Then it struck me--it was just like my first apartment in Hollywood.

I only lived there for a few months, and never went back after I moved away, even when I've been in the area. Until now. The building is still standing, but is undergoing a major renovation. I don't know what they plan to do with it--make condos, probably. It's in a great location--near the Hollywood Bowl and around the corner from Hollywood Blvd. I'll have to check on it the next time I'm in town.

The East Side

The West Side

Front Door

Window