LA

Laurie and Ben

It is an LA town, on an LA street, an apartment complex made of masonry and painted gray. There is an ornamental metal gate; ring number seven and the buzzer rattles like an electric chair, and the door pulls open.

Inside the apartment a group of stage and screen actors, musicians, and costume designers have gathered for dinner. The rain falls so hard we talk loud to ignore it, and with red wine and Miller Lite, dinner gets started and we talk louder still. It is fun stuff, songs are broken into like a new Honda in a dark alley. There is so much garlic on the garlic bread it burns the roof of your mouth, and there is just as much in the home made marinera, known as Puttanesca (whore sauce, in Italian, since it attracted men to the bordello). Beets have been sliced and stacked four high, with goat cheese between each layer. Stephanie called it a “beet parfait”, and it was delicious. Bel Gioioso cheese was grated onto a plate, it has the lightest feel, like picking up loose tinsel, but it has no sparkle and it melts on your tongue. Shrimp pesto and Japanese noodles, fresh basil, green salad and spinach rounded out the table. And another Miller Lite for me.

Mark, a dinner guest, was from England, and spoke with an appropriate accent, the kind that adds IQ points if its natural, and takes them away when you try to imitate it.
“I’ve just finished an article that discusses the differences between hero’s and celebrities. Celebrities are celebrated, hero’s are unnoticed. They are schoolteachers, nurses, people that are working to help others, while celebrities are just famous.”

He was nice enough to call me a hero, because I am bringing attention to unknown people and trying to bring good things to light through this project. The British are a classy bunch.