Life in the City of Angels: Hollywood
Category: People
Cue The Camels Book Signing at Vroman’s Bookstore, Pasadena, California
Part One
Dave Banks discusses and signs Cue the Camels
Jay Leno says, “Within these pages Dave has written gung-ho, self-deprecating, wildly engaging accounts of his exploits, with all the behind-the-scene high-jinks that go into shooting news and documentaries across the world.” In Cue the Camels, Dave shares his misadventures in a comedic style that is sure to entertain.
Vroman’s Bookstore Link: http://www.vromansbookstore.com/local629
Cue The Camels available at: www.cuethecamels.com, www.oodlebooks.com, Also available at: Vroman’s Bookstore in Pasadena, California www.vromansbookstore.com/book/9780957438385, , Book Soup in Hollywood, California, booksoup.com/book/9780957438385 , Amazon Kindle Edition: http://www.amazon.com/Cue-Camels-three-time-award-winning-film-maker-ebook/dp/B00IA10Z88/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1403461103&sr=1-1&keywords=cue+the+camels
It’s A Potpourri of Images!
Rucksack Essentials: La Musica, Kabul Afghanistan
Cue The Camels, Chapter Six
It’s not that I’m a snob about music but any world traveler will tell you that one of the most essential items in your rucksack is your music. My choice of tunes has become the soundtrack for many of my journeys, often saving my sanity. I can attest that there is nothing better then listening to your iPod on a transatlantic flight, it evokes a wonderful state of being that takes you away from the crying babies and exasperated mothers. Music has protected me from exasperation when Egyptian wedding parties have still been going strong at two o’clock in the morning, as well as helping me pass days (not hours) while once waiting for a flight out of Kabul.
For me, Justin Bieber’s mindless pop just doesn’t lend itself to the experience of tearing across sun-bleached sands in the Sahara desert in a Toyota Land Cruiser. The Clash’s ‘Rock the Casbah’, however, does a terrific job and always sets the mood.
In Kabul, Afghanistan, I spent an afternoon eating lunch that had been cooked on the sidewalk, in front of a carpet store on Chicken Street. The owner and his son stayed and had lunch with me so that they could practice their English. When Kabul was under Taliban control, paper bags, white socks, kite-flying and music were forbidden. This was serious oppression; for instance, possession of a paper bag constituted the death penalty. If they viewed that so severely, imagine what they’d have done if a flash mob broke out to Survivor’s ‘Eye of the Tiger’ – the Taliban would have nuked all of Chicken Street.
To celebrate my host’s and his son’s newfound freedom we played ‘Jump Around’ by House of Pain on his chrome-trimmed ghetto blaster that he’d kept hidden from the Taliban. It must have been very amusing for the ISAF (International Security Assistance Force) troops to see a couple of Afghans and one big white guy jumping to the beat of the music in front of the old carpet store. To this day, when I hear ‘Jump Around’ I can smell the pilaf cooking, feel the heat of the day and, in my mind’s eye, see the physical expression of freedom on the owner’s face and that of his son’s, as they danced with sheer joy.
Cue The Camels available at: www.cuethecamels.com, www.oodlebooks.com, Also available at: Vromans Bookstore in Pasadena, California www.vromansbookstore.com/book/9780957438385, and Book Soup in Hollywood, California, booksoup.com/book/9780957438385
Life in the City of Angels: Jesus of Hollywood
Kevin Short, aka West Hollywood Jesus died December 13, 2017, at age 57. Kevin was a mainstay up and down Hollywood Boulevard, and famously posed for pics with countless tourists over the years. He had a positive effect on anyone who came in contact with him. Rest In Peace Kevin.
Life in the City of Angels: Jesus of Hollywood originally posted October, 2009.
It is the Mecca of their religion with 10 million followers annually making the pilgrimage to this sacred site. This is the biggest religion in America. No spiritual following receives more airtime and print space. It is Celebritism. And the holy of holies even has an address: 6925 Hollywood Boulevard, Hollywood, California.There you will find an archeological site full of artifacts – a temple, footprints, hand impressions and a sequence of letters, words and symbols etched in concrete. Beyond the grid of this archeological site is a walk-way that the locals refer to as the “Walk of Fame.” It is a three-and-a-half-mile (5.6 km) round-trip journey much akin to the Stations of the Cross in Jerusalem.
Above the strata is rock art embedded with more than 2,000 stars featuring the names of not only human celebrities but also fictional characters and even animals. Each emblem is a pink terrazzo five-pointed star rimmed with bronze and inlaid into a charcoal square. Inside it you’ll find a revered name inlaid in bronze, below which is a round emblem indicating the category for which the honoree received the star. Even those of blind faith cherish these artifacts. 
The first sacrament dates back to 1960. Who was that lucky first beneficiary? Paul Newman’s wife, Joanne Woodward. (I don’t care if it rains or blows hard – as long as I’ve seen the star of Joanne Woodward). It was on the Walk of Fame that I found Jesus. He was sitting in Baja Fresh, a popular Mexican fast food chain, deep in conversation with a fellow patron.
Jesus was listening intently while nursing a Starbuck’s Espresso Frapuccino Grande. After finishing his taco – I could only speculate it wasn’t pork – he stepped onto the Walk and I began to follow Him.
Immediately, pilgrims of all nationalities and tongues followed Him with their eyes but none were so bold as to either approach him or engage him, so I decided to take the plunge.“Jesus, are you homeless and forced to work as an historical character here in Hollywood to survive ?” He responded by reaching into his plain linen robe and pulling out a set of keys, “No man” he said, “ I drive a Mercedes and I have an apartment.” Many of the pilgrims would smile at Him and point but it seemed as if only the elderly were captivated by the Son of God and would seek his attention. And, as expected, He would listen patiently.
There were impassioned voices calling from passing cars, “Jesus, Jesus”. But interestingly enough I didn’t hear a peep calling for the attention of the other faux celebrities that congregated at the Temple. 
As far as historians can tell, Jesus first appeared on celluloid in 1903, just a few years after the birth of moving pictures. French brothers Auguste and Louis Lumiere produced “La Vie et la Passion du Jesus Christ,” a 44-minute silent film which was one of the earliest feature-length movie and every frame was painstakingly hand painted for color. Riding high on respectability for over one hundred years the subject of Jesus came crashing down in 2001 with the release of “Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter” – a second coming musical complete with kung-fu action. Need I say more?
Located east of the main temple is a second, smaller shrine on the Walk of Fame. This location is for the most devout believers where for $12.95 you can dwell for hours in worship, adoration and photo opportunities. Eerie wax figures of living and dead celebrity are dressed up in costumes so that followers can relive their favorite moments of their deity. In April of 2009, Hollywood auction house Profiles in History sold off “retiring figures.” More than 200 figures were sold online, including the Last Supper and the Beatles. Jesus and His 12 Disciples brought in more than $15,000. The Beatles brought in a mere $13,000. Sorry John, but Jesus is more popular than the Beatles.
Life in the City of Angeles: Social Detective with the Jimmy Legs
Some people call it Attention Deficit Disorder or ADD. I call it the “Jimmy Legs” which seems to take the psychiatric bite out of my condition. For me, sitting is nearly impossible for any length of time and wandering, exploring or just doing something is a great organic treatment. The only drug that seems to help me is called “a camera” (which, by the way I’m sure the pharmaceutical companies would disapprove of). Along with the Jimmy Legs, Road Fever pops up and off I go, wandering the streets, seeking the perfect shot and engaging people for their backstory.
My Jimmy Legs and Road Fever have served me well shooting documentaries around the world. At home in southern California, I fancy myself an amateur anthropologist or a social detective discovering subcultures, from gutter punks to surf Nazis, faux celebrities, old adventurers and even Charreadas. If you don’t know, a Charreada is part rodeo, part fiesta, and one of Mexico’s most revered sporting events on both sides of the border, dating back to the 17th century. With nearly 40% of the population in southern California, the Mexican sport of Charreada is thriving though it is hidden from disapproving eyes. For instance, the competitors are strictly amateurs with occasional members of the cartel competing in the events – they’re the ones in Armani silk shirts. 
To help understand the Mexican culture of Charreada I was able to make contact with a gentleman who provides livestock for the Charreadas. He gave me sketchy directions to his next Charreadas event, which was in the town of Mira Loma (English translation; Look at the Hills). Surrounded by three freeways and north of Norco Hill and south of Fontana (aka, Fontalajara), Mira Loma has a dark history. In 1931, the town voluntarily changed its name from Wineville to Mira Loma. The name change came about as a result of the “Wineville Chicken Coop Murders”. One leading citizen of Wineville was quoted as saying in a local paper: “Wineville was such a nice town until them boys got killed… Let’s rename the town Mira Loma so we can all forget about It”.
With a faint smell of jet fuel and tucked away in a remote labyrinth of industrial parks, warehouses full of used furniture, and on a dirt road, I find the small arena. Charreadas always begins at noon, are entirely in Spanish and unadvertised to the general public for obvious reasons – criticism from animal rights and anti-rodeo activists keeps the events off the public radar.
By the time I arrive, the Coleadero or steer tailing is about to begin. A mounted charro (cowboy) grasps the tail of a steer and brings the animal to the ground. A properly tailed steer should end up like this, with all four hooves in the air. 
Winning charros aren’t awarded any money but ribbons and bows are pinned to their sleeves as trophies to their skill and horsemanship. Many of the charros are middle-aged men who struggle to hitch a lavishly embroidered leather belt around their paunches, but this does not hinder or impede their skillful horsemanship or tailing the steer.
Most Californians don’t know that California is the number two rodeo state in the nation, second only to Texas. California hosts about 60 professional rodeos annually. Of these, most are sanctioned by the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA), the largest such organization in the US. There are likely double that number of small rodeo events, plus scores of Charreadas.
Despite being dirty, sweaty and dehydrated the experience of being in the arena with the charro’s was more than I expected. It was a good day for the Jimmy Legs.
For more information regarding the traditions and sport of Charreada follow this link: http://charrosfederationusa.com/
Cue The Camels, Chapter 5, Jerusalem Bed Sheets
After a long day of shooting in Jerusalem I stopped at the Elvis Inn for a bite to eat. As I walked in a short, portly man stood at the souvenir counter waiting to buy a kitschy keepsake. He had greaser sleeves (extreme sideburns) and wore a white polyester jumpsuit with rhinestone shoulders; round his pot-belly was a crudely embroidered American eagle belt. He also had Elvis’ trademark gold-framed sunglasses. I felt I’d discovered a new psychiatric condition: Elvis Syndrome. I saw that another Elvis statue was sat across from me, staring me down as my spicy burger, (kosher beef, of course) French fries and Coca Cola were set down. ‘Thank ‘ya very much,’ I said to the waitress, giving her my best Elvis impression. ‘You don’t think I hear that every day?’ she scowled. ‘Must be the end of her shift,’ I thought.
Life in the City of Angels: Pay-Phones, Superman and Toilets
Recalling an era not so long ago, the cha-ching of quarters feeding the public phone, the chirps and tones of buttons dispatching the number you want to call or the interactions with the operator when your minutes are up. As the old pay-phones fade away and disappear from our urban landscape, where in the world is the mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent to dash to change into his Superman tights or where the bad boy can go to call home on Mother’s Day.
Today it is estimated that out of the world’s estimated 7 billion people, 6 billion have access to mobile phones leaving the outdated phone box to a bygone era. What’s interesting is that only 4.5 billion have access to working toilets. That right, more people have cell phones than toilets.
But wait, there’s still life for the old pay-phones. American Mark Thomas started the Payphone Project, by amassing a database with thousands of public pay phone numbers around the world. Mark, invites us to use the old analog pay-phone for out amusement, “I invite people to pick up the phone and call to see who answered and maybe have a laugh.” These phone numbers can be found on his website at: www.payphone-project.com. So, in spite of the pay-phones reputation as a germ repository there are opportunities to “Reach out and touch someone” you maybe just surprised who answers. For those in Hollywood on last count there are 27 pay-phones located on Hollywood Boulevard.
Life in the City of Angels
After having lunch across the street, Larry and Doug get back to business in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre proselytizing to tourist in Hollywood. I asked Larry, If a woman with large breasts works at Hooters, then where does a woman with one leg work IHOP? Larry refused to acknowledge my question and raised his bullhorn and bellowed out his message. No tourist asked to have their photo taken with Larry and Doug.
A Canadian tourist recounts his experience on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. “The costumed characters are a step below the homeless population in the area. The homeless may be asking for money and wallowing in their own stank but at least they are not confrontational and demanding like the costumed characters in the area. Don’t dare take a photo of a character without remitting payment.They will chase you down.I watched Elmo get crazy backed up by the Cookie Monster. Superman just stood there …doing nothing. It was sad.” On the night of the 83rd Academy Awards, 82,000 people will be sleeping on the streets of Los Angeles.
On a Sunday afternoon Chris takes a break from panhandling and the heat of the day. His favorite spot for shade is at the front entrance of the Capitol Records building where the marble stays cool all day. “The popular belief is that it was designed to resemble a stack of vinyl records topped by a record player’s spindle” Chris tells me. His attention turns to a tourist walking by, “hey buddy! Can you spare some changes ? I like you shoes they match your outfit, nice legs too.”
Exposure and Other Worldly Morsels 
