Tecate Mexican Beer: Light hop bitterness. Bread and malts are present. Straw color appearance. Has a lager taste. Not too carbonated, goes down easy. Nice on a hot day like today then a nap.
Cheetos Crunchy Cheese Flavored Puffed Cornmeal: When cheesecake is not available Cheetos hits the spot. It has just enough spice (jalapeno) to be flavorful but not too hot. Not for folks who like Pringles…and you won’t emit flames from the nether region either!
While flipping burgers at McDonald’s in the early 90’s, Edward Moss was repeatedly told by co-workers and customers of his strong resemblance to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. Edward likeness became his asset leading him from the business of cardboard hamburgers to show business on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. One of Edward’s first appearances as “The Gloved One” was at the old Hollywood Wax Museum. Standing at the entrance of the museum as living statue of Michael Jackson. Curious tourist would stop to take a gander at what they thought was a wax figure. As the vacationers gather for a closer look on cue a track of music would blast from the museum speakers. Startled by the music and movement, Edward would start dancing across the polished entrance of the museum to the surprise and amusement of his audience. For the Hollywood Wax Museum they sold tickets and for Edward it was the beginning to a career as a Michael Jackson impersonator.Music is a safe kind of high -Jimi Hendrix
It is my favorite assignment, photographing musicians while in rehearsal or in a recording studios. It is the moment that the musicians delve deeply into the musical notes on a sheet of paper and give birth to a sound that becomes airborne with an arsenal of emotions. Like a still image, music can act as a synthetic acid which enhances flashbacks to a moment in time that has been joyful or painful and never forgotten. Music is the needle and thread that sews our humanity together and in spite of being in metal boxes on Golden State 5 you can witness the joy of Angelenos as they boogie, jive and groove to their own soundtrack, it is a collective consciousness of moving forward to the beat of their own music.
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.
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/
April 17, 1993, Saturday, 2:30 a.m. I am fully clothed and laying in bed watching Sting in the science fiction movie “Dune,” while eating Girl Scout peanut butter cookies and drinking coffee. I am in a hotel room at the Wyndham Garden Hotel in Commerce, California along with off-duty San Jose detectives and ex-Navy Seals, all of who have been hired as freelance and assigned to me as bodyguards, and all of who are armed to the teeth. A Seal will drive our bulletproof Crown Victoria that is being rented by the production company for a thousands bucks a day, and one of the detectives will ride “shotgun.” Our team has been issued flak jackets, Kevlar helmets, pepper spray and Israeli gas masks. Ironically, the instructions for the gas masks are in Hebrew and none of us can reads Hebrew. Unlike the first intifada – the L.A. Riots of 1992 – 
I now have an official backstage pass to the “L.A Riots Part 2-1993 Tour.” I’m embedded with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Special Enforcements Bureau, in a platoon made up of thirty-six Sheriffs Deputies traveling in sixteen marked patrol cars and one “armored hostage rescue vehicle.”
The Call…..
3:15 a.m. The call comes in to prep the gear, check out and travel to a new location. Crap! Dune is not over and I will miss the best part where giant sandworms appear out of the desert floor and destroy the Harvesters that mine for the Spice on the planet Arrakis. In the hotel lobby I am informed that the production company has had second thoughts and now feels the thousand-dollar-a-day bulletproof car is too expensive. They do not want to be held responsible for any damage to it. Looks like I will be riding in a Deputy Sheriff’s patrol car.
Platoon Rendezvous…..
8:25 a.m. We have rendezvous with several other platoons of uniformed deputies in what appears to be an abandoned hotel parking lot. Some deputies are relaxing in their vehicles, others are outside, pacing nervously. It is here that I hear the verdict and sentencing of the defendants in the second Rodney King trial as I’m searching for a place to get some coffee. Several of the patrol cars have their trunks open with portable radios tuned to the KFWB all-news station. The newscaster’s flat voice echoes across the parking lot along with news of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, a nuclear accident in Russia, a fire fight with the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas and a nifty review of Billy Crystal hosting the 65th Academy Awards and the shows ratings.
9:20 a.m. The platoon relocates to a substation located at the City Hall Complex in Lynwood. 
Falling Down For A Meal……
11:25 a.m.This is our first sit-down meal since Thursday night the 15th of April. “Today is Saturday the 17th of April” I think. I’m sitting in a chair at a table where both have been bolted to the floor. This is Angelo’s Burgers on Atlantic Boulevard in Lynwood. I am getting ready to eat a breakfast burrito, in the company of fifty deputy sheriffs in this small burger joint. After the meal we talk with the deputies and drink coffee when I notice a homemade sign made of cardboard and a magic marker on the counter where you place your order. “The Movie ‘Falling Down’ with Michael Douglas was filmed here on May 12th, 1992.” It was here at Angelo’s that the famous scene where Michael Douglas’ beleaguered character is trying to order breakfast from a fast-food chain called “Whammy Burgers” was filmed. The menu has changed from breakfast to lunch and Michael wants breakfast not lunch. In short, the movie is about a man in L. A. who goes bonkers. It’s ironic that we are sitting here at Angelo’s with deputy sheriffs having breakfast waiting for a city to go bonkers.
Saturday 2:15 p.m. It is not the result of the announcement of the court’s verdict that sends us racing at top speed from Lynwood to an amusement park north of Los Angeles. Apparently a scheduled rap concert has been oversold by a thousand tickets or so. As expected, some of the fans were upset, and out of frustration windows were broken at restaurants across the street from the entrance to the amusement park.
I love Scottish Food……
4:35 p.m. The deputies, our crew and assorted bodyguards are in a holding pattern at the upper entrance to the park. Everyone is hungry. With my supply of Atomic Fireball jawbreakers, Balance Bars and gum gone, the production company finally breaks down and decides to get McDonald’s quarter pounders for everyone. Half way through the order, McDonald’s runs out of quarter pounders and we end up with Happy Meals for most of the crew and seventy plus deputies.
7:46p.m. The sun has set. I tag along with a squad of seven deputies, taking in the sights and sounds of the park. I wonder if we can stop long enough to get a corndog. Occasionally families and kids looking for a way out of the park stop us and ask for directions. None of our group are familiar enough with the park and we are not much help in answering their questions. We have not been in the park longer than fifteen or twenty minutes at the most when there is an atmospheric change in the night.
Jurassic Park…..
There is now a lull in the sounds. The normal sounds of a carnival atmosphere where laughter and excited screams of kids on a wild rides are mixed in the night air have diminished. There is something different happening here. There is a different kind of screaming now. A disconcerted screaming that builds and continues until all laughter has been swallowed by the night. A swelling of emotions rises from my stomach and settles into my chest and heart. My instincts are telling me something that I don’t yet consciously perceive. It is at this point that time becomes a series of different scenarios in slow motion and other craziness in “quick time”.
Like locusts swarming upon a field of grain, kids and families are pouring out of nowhere, surrounding us. The deputies react by creating a circle in the middle of a concrete walkway. If you were to look down from overhead, you would see a circle of tan helmets surrounded by a sea of bodies. A sergeant is in the middle trying to hear the two-way radio above the human sounds. My eye is glued in the Nikon’s viewfinder, and the cameras motor drive whines with click-click-click-click-click. The framed faces are growing with expressions of dread, concern, and confusion as the volume of pandemonium rises to a higher decibel.
Somewhere in the park ahead of us panic strikes like lightning and like the delay of thunder, so is my reaction and that of the seven deputies. We catch the first swell of the crowd seeking safety. It is a stampede of hundreds of people coming right at us, and we are a mere wall of eight people. The noise level of crying, shouting and screaming rise again to a decibel level higher then an AC/DC concert. I hear a deputy shouting ” Was that gunfire ? Was that gunfire?”
The mob recedes and confusion fills the void. Again gunshots or firecrackers are set off somewhere in the park ahead of us and a larger tidal wave of families in sheer panic descend upon us. Unlike the 1992 riots I covered nearly a year ago to the day- this had the element of the vulnerability of families caught in the middle of a total breakdown of civil order. They have become a captive audience for Mad Hatter’s Wild Ride and Freak Show. A group of teenage boys and girls run up to us screaming that a park security guy is getting beat up behind us. We turn but can’t see anything but a wall of humanity one hundred yards deep. 
More deputies arrive out of nowhere and we make our way across a sea of glass shards, white plastic coat hangers, price tags and paper images of cartoon characters. A helicopter flies overhead with its powerful spotlight shining down on the throngs. The beam creates a massive shadow from the tree limbs and scaffolding which slowly crawls over the entire area like a black web.
A Table, Chair and a Chef……
Passing by a restaurant I notice that the doors are cracked I peer into the darkness and silhouetted in the foreground are chairs, tables and serving trays stacked on top of each other. Beyond the barrier, a young man dressed in his chef’s whites stares at me with a dazed and anxious look. I can only assume that he has chosen to stand sentry with fire extinguisher in hand as the world outside goes for a roller coaster ride into a momentary lapse of sanity.
The park is now quieter as the deputies contain and prod the visitors to the main entrance. I pass a long line of kids at a pay phone trying to call their parents to come and get them while near by is a marble statue of a rabbit riding a horse waving goodbye to his guests.
April 19, 1993, Morning Coffee and the Times….
This morning I read in the L A Times, “The park reopened Sunday to an enthusiastic spring break crowd as law enforcement officials, park managers and a music promoter tried to pinpoint blame for two melees that damaged both the park and its reputation as a place for family entertainment. An all-night repair job replaced broken windows and looted merchandise in time for Sunday’s 10 a.m. opening” 
I later learned that the “melees” cost the park an estimated 2 million dollars in damages, 40 people were emergency evacuated and that it took 450 deputies to move 40,000 people out of the park. Urban legend has it that a body was found underneath a roller coaster ride four days after the riot. In ShowBiz news, there is big buzz about the release of Steven Spielberg’s film “Jurassic Park” It’s about a team of genetic engineers creating an amusement park full of cloned dinosaurs – then all hell breaks out.
Exposure and Other Worldly Morsels 