romance – Page 16 – Hopeful Romantics

New Meaning to the Term, Cheap Date

Time was when someone told you they were a cheap date, it was regarded with humor. It was cute, something that was enticing, sweet, and implied that your prospective paramour was a person of simpler tastes. Of course, this wasn’t always the case, or even often the case, and a few dates into the relationship and those simpler tastes ratcheted up to more expensive forays around the town.

Then we had a couple, few decades of excess, spelled out perhaps by the more austere nineties and early twenty first century. Then happy days were here again. People dined, parties, bought custom clothes and borrowed heavily with equity loans on their properties that they believed would never stop appreciating. Many lived deep in debt but didn’t worry about it, since there was always more money from somewhere. And besides, living large was so much fun.

And then came reality. The economy went into a stall, housing prices plummeted and the sub-prime mortgage fiasco, hey, you too can buy a million dollar house for only $3,000 a month, knocked the proverbial wind out of our economic sails. Then came the insane increase in the prise of fuel, and the even more insane increase in the price of everything else.

So here we are, instead of the premium vodka and caviar weekends, the frequent trips to wherever we wanted to go, and even the eating out at Applebee’s three times a week, are becoming for most of us a fading memory. Even the rich feel the pinch and are complaining. I guess when your investment portfolio takes a 25% hit and your developing nations stocks fail to develop, it’s time to tighten the belt somewhat.

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Who knows? For dates, couple may start going for walks and packing picnic baskets. In time they may discover that at least half the food you eat in restaurants, while convenient, is often pretty lousy. It is actually fun to make food in your own kitchen, talking while preparing. If you are a new couple, it is a good way to really get to know each other without having to go through the usual rote speech questionnaire.

Perhaps, as the old song mistakenly attests, not all the best things in life are free. But some of the things can prove inexpensive. Hey, sex can be cost effective. And unlike most of the movies we see and meals we eat, you may even remember it a couple of days after you did it. Cap it off with more modest romantic gestures. They are appreciated, endearing and it shows you are making an effort to trasncend the usual doldrums of the economic downturn.

In times when just buying gasoline and basic groceries is putting a dent in the budget, perhaps the simpler lifestyle may be a necessity. But then it may also be desirable. Less pressure and fewer hoops to jump through to impress someone in ways that often don’t matter anyway. I mean, what woman really wants expensive jewelry? just kidding. All right, some of the better things in life definitely do cost money.

But who knows? With fewer nights out and fewer distractions, maybe you’ll even have to talk to each other.

The Paparazzi Go Surfing

Last Thursday, several performers, testified at Los Angeles City Hall about the tribulations of the dreaded Paparazzi. Dutifully, the performers pronounced to City Councilman Dennis P. Zine’s stalwart task force how they were put upon, set upon and otherwise infringed upon by an uncaring, avaricious bunch of tabloid journalists who make their living following celebrities around. Of course no one offered how the Paparazzi could boost careers as well as hinder personal lives.

Sometimes getting photographed or getting written up in the tabloids is a trade off. You are annoyed, even hounded. Your business, as they say, it out on the street. But in return you receive more public exposure. It’s fair to say career have never really been made or broken by the Paparazzi. But careers have been boosted and lives have been damaged. The recent romp through the Beverly Hilton hotel and the subsequent cornering of former Senator and Vice Presidential Candidate, John Edwards, who had allegedly been visiting his mistress and love child, I’m sure did little to boost his chances for a cabinet position.

Then there is the recent situation up in Malibu where some of the youthful denizens decided to experiment with some notion of honor by intimidating the Paparazzi who were there to take photos of Matthew McConaughey who was surfing. I can well understand that McConaughey wanted his privacy but the notion of nobility among the privileged Malibu surfer dudes is about as laughable as another Brittany Spears beaver shot.

I remember when celebrities and aspiring performers had their publicists and managers tip the Paparazzi to ensure the tabloid media was present for whatever was deemed a seminal event. Like when dinner that night at Spago with a new love interest that would attract a lot more coverage than a mere dinner with friends. There was always some tipoff, some tempest in a teapot that could play out like scandal that the tabloids could embrace and for which the celebrity would benefit.
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I also remember hanging out for an hour or so with one famed Paparazzi photographer. He and his sometime partner were considered gruff and callous. They were infamous for taking photos in the most unusual ways, like one burying the other in sand and cover him with a newspaper, the popping out when the target strode past. Or using a really long lens to snare a shot of a really famous political personality who was topless on her private beach.

The day I sat with this photographer he showed me photographs he had taken not for the tabloids but for himself. They were photographs of famous people, of course. But the photos were sensitive and captured aspects of personality I hadn’t seen in other photos. There was one particular photo of the Kennedy matriarchy that was taken back when Rose Kennedy was still alive. The photographer had struck a bargain and offered that if the Kennedy women would pose for the photo, he would leave them alone. Well at least for the rest of the day. He took the photo and kept his word. They went on their way. The photo remains, and I still think about that photo from time to time. For the supposed gruff guy, the crass Paparazzi, there was artistic sensitivity working underneath.

But let’s face it, the world has changed and its hunger for photos and information about famous people defies all logic. I mean how much can you really care about someone else life? But more on that some other time. It is sufficient here to remark that celebrities have been hounded beyond any common dignity. Princess Diana was the most notable instance, and all conspiracy theories aside, what went on that fateful night in Paris’ Pont d’Alma Tunnel may have well been caused by an overzealous tabloid media.

The media can be ruthless. The path to celebrity can also be ruthless. When you sign aboard, you may get more than you bargained for. So at the end of the day, if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the restaurant.

Federal Agents Have Mistaken Osama Bin Laden for a Pot Plant

I feel safer this week than I did last. Much safer. Why? Not because the intrepid strategists of our federal government arrested Osama Bin Laden. Not because they have vanquished the Taliban in Afghanistan. And certainly not because they arrested every violent street gang member in Los Angeles and shipped back the illegal gangsters to wherever it was that they came from.

Instead of all that, Drug Enforcement Agents raided a medical marijuana dispensary in Culver City. According to the Los Angeles Times, they arrested a single employee, a disabled former Marine. This daring raid occurred the same day the Appellate State Court in San Diego ruled that federal law does not preempt California’s Medical Marijuana Laws.

Now everybody knows there are two types that visit the medical marijuana dispensaries around California. There are the people who are genuinely ill or even terminal, who use it to relieve the ailments and side effects caused by any number of diseases and their associative treatments. And then there is everyone else.

Dispensaries are not hard to find. Often the big green neon marijuana leaf in the window serves as a definite giveaway. And their patrons are not hard to spot. Drive down any major street during the weekend and you will find pot customers patiently standing outside their favorite dispensaries, waiting for the place to open its doors. And getting the card that will give you legal permission to buy marijuana, from what I have been told, is not hard to obtain. You just talk to the doctor about your ailments, fork over some money, and here’s your card.

Now Culver City has a history. Many of the great and formerly great film studios are and have been located there. The old MGM, with its two Leo Lions at the entrance graced one part of Culver City. The studio’s famous musicals were all shot there, including “The Wizard of Oz,” where the Munchkins allegedly cavorted with sexual rhapsody, not having never before seen so many of their own kind in one place at one time. This tale is part of Hollywood myth or legend, depending on which you prefer.

Now that great MGM lot is part of Sony Entertainment. The old back lots, with all of the sets, from Andy Hardy to Biblical Epics, were long ago sold of for condominiums. The old Culver Studios enjoys yet another incarnation. And the curious can see the main building, which served as the exterior for Tara in “Gone With the Wind.” That Battle of Atlanta, Daryl Zanuck style, he being the producer of “Gone With the Wind,” was fought in Culver City. The famous train station sequence, with all the Confederate wounded lying in wait for the evacuating locomotives was shot on that land. Today the wounded could slake their thirst with a quick stop at Trader Joe’s.
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Other than action films, Culver City’s history is not particularly violent. It is not a dangerous community. In fact, it is anything but, since Culver City is enjoying a comprehensive rejuvenation. It is now a destination where film studios, old and new, coexist with trendy restaurants, movies theaters, the Kirk Douglas legitimate theater, boutiques, home furnishings outlets, and, apparently, a marijuana dispensary. The biggest danger is perhaps getting run over by a stroller, or clobbered by a hand holding couple too ensconced in romance to notice you walking in front of them. You may also suffer a seizure when you read the prices at some of the more trendy restaurants, or see how long the waiting line is for anything, anywhere.

But you won’t be mugged, chances are. And you wouldn’t notice the pot dispensary and the people buying their weed to either alleviate the pain or provide entertainment. But the Feds did notice. On the day the California Appeals Court ruled that the Federal agencies should concentrate on other things, like the rampant smuggling and the incumbent violence on the border. But that may prove a challenge.

Now it has been a long time since marijuana was any kind of issue to me. Age and responsibility has a way of supplanting certain desires. But if I was truly ill, or suffered the side effects I know friends of mine have suffered from, I would be thinking about something, anything, that would ease the pain and discomfort. If you are really sick or terminal you aren’t worried about dying from marijuana. If if it’d just to enjoy yourself, then arguments can be made for against its use or, more directly, adult use.

But that is not my argument. Mine is to wonder why we are bothering with this nonsense when we have so many other challenges. When we have real crime, and, as I noted earlier, the borders are rife with killing and smuggling. Thousands have died in the Mexican Drug Wars, and that war has spilled over into the States.

And then there is a matter of money. We are broke. We are borrowing money from China. And we are using it for what, exactly? By acting this misdirected, you would think the DEA is high on grass.

In The Future You Might Have To Drive The Car You Can Afford

I was reading in the Los Angeles Times where Chrysler would no longer be leasing cars through its in-house financial service. Wells Fargo, known for its auto leasing loans, among other things is also getting out of the auto leasing business. Ford took a write down on its auto leasing portfolio of over $2 Billion, which is a lot of money, even in this day and age.

The car makers who sell mostly trucks and SUV’s are being hit doubly hard as those that specialize in passenger cars, but with gas prices being what they are, coupled with the devaluation of leased cars, it is only a matter of time before other auto makers pick up their proverbial catcher’s mitts and trundle on out of the car leasing finance business. Tough break.

Once upon a time, the auto dealership could figure with some degree of accuracy the residual value of the car. That means at the inception of your lease the dealer would project the car would be worth a certain percentage of its initial value. Three year old cars in demand, Mercedes, BMW’s, Lexus, Hondas, Toyotas would be worth more, percentage wise, naturally, and the ones in less demand, Hyandai’s, Kias, stuff like that,would be worth less. This residual value was taken into consideration when they wrote up the terms of the lease. You would pay less per month for a car with more residual value, meaning it would be worth more at the end of the lease, and you would pay more per month for the car that nobody wanted.

Well, now every car dealership is getting killed on most lease returns. The Prius and a few others are the exceptions, but now the Blue Book Value, the estimated value of a car and the actual selling price are at odds. The car is worth less than the evaluation. Enough so that you see dealers who bought out the cars at lease closing now desperate to sell and offering the cars at thousands below Blue Book.

In fact, Santa Monica Lexus this weekend had its first ever “blow out” sale, offering its cars a thousands below the Blue Book value. I was struck by the number of Porsches listed in the ad. This is Southern California, after all, and at first glance one would think they were on the Autobahn what with all the German cars. A Porsche around here is like an entry level Lexus in a lot of other parts of the country. Nevertheless, there they were all models, all colors, just make an offer.

So what’s this all mean, besides the obvious? Well, have always been a country in love with its cars. We would joyride; we would watch movies in our cars, eat in them, have sex in them. They were an extension of our ego, a symbol of freedom and a measuring stick for our worth in society. Hundreds of sons were written about our cars and the things we did in our cars. We have auto shows, auto clubs, nostalgic reviews and television shows.

Once upon a time cars were affordable. Relatively speaking. You drove an American car and there were cool American cars and they didn’t empty your lungs just to buy one. And then as the world globalized we were introduced to the really sleek, cool, speedy, better handling foreign models. First they came from Europe, some vroomed and some sputtered, especially in the rain. Anyone who drove an English sports car in the sixties can tell you about his travails with the Jaguars and MG’s.

And then came the Japanese. First there were the cheap, tinny cars that no one wanted, unless you were too broke for the American car. But then the Japanese cars improved, and Toyota, Honda, Nissan, offered quality cars and premium vehicles with names like Infiniti, Accura and Lexus. As for the cheap part, well that went out the electric window.
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So…to have your symbol of freedom and the status and sex appeal it would bring you, you had to spend bucks. Bucks you couldn’t afford. Enter car leasing. For a lot less bucks you could drive the car you couldn’t afford for several years and then turn it in for its residual value. The auto maker would sell it off, make some more money on it, over your initial leasing fee, and the auto makers were happy as clams.

But now it looks like they will soon be getting out of the leasing business. That symbol of freedom will have to be something you can actually afford. Because you will have to actually buy it. Reality will need a radical adjustment. Your symbol of freedom may lack the sex appeal of the car you once leased. Or it may be a lot older than that shiny new car you drove for three years, put on thirty thousand miles, and then turned it.

Your friends may not envy you as much. Women may not swoon. Few men can ask a woman if you wants to go for a ride in a base priced Kia. Okay, then can ask, but who is accepting? So there you are, no longer in dream city but bogged down in the reality of the times. As for joy riding, forget that at $5 bucks a gallon. You ain’t even going to the movies, half the time. Pay per view and a pizza ordered from the shop where the delivery kid has to pay for his gasoline.

Online dating may end up being more “virtual” than first anticipated. Fashion companies could be offering attire and accessories for weekend phone sex. Pajama parties may again become the rage. Why? Because everyone will stay over for days, since they can’t afford the gas to go home. I suppose it is a good thing after all that drive-in theaters have long gone the way of the rumble seat.

If there is a silver lining, take stock of the car you will be buying and not leasing. The reason many expensive cars were expensive, besides their performance, sex appeal, and a mark of your status, is because they are made well. They weren’t made initially to be leased for three years and turned back in. They were made to be driven for years and years. They were made to go hundreds of thousands of miles, before dying an honorable death.

So if you buy one and drive it for the five or ten years, like the Europeans usually do, then the price of the luxury vehicle still makes sense. You can enjoy it, retain your symbol of freedom, sex appeal, and status symbol, albeit a little threadbare over time. You can enjoy the better cars for what they were made for–quality and performance. Or you can buy a car you can afford, get rid of it when the loan is paid and buy another, maybe an electric car. In the future.

In any event, your car, after being driven awhile, like quality clothes made from quality fabric, will develop the one thing it doesn’t have now. Character.

Happy motoring.

Johnny Edwards, We Hardly Knew Ya

Okay, so by now unless you were living in a cave in Mynamar you would have read or heard about how the National Enquirer, cornered former Presidential Hopeful and Democratic Vice Presidential nominee, John Edwards in the Beverly Hilton Hotel. Apparently, the media gang from the Enquirer chased poor Johnny around the hotel in some modern version of an old Marx Brothers movie. From the different reports, the very bemused hotel guests watched the impromptu floor show.

John Edwards ran for his life, or, rather, for his career, while the Enquirer gang gave chase. They cornered him in a bathroom, where reports are the ever intimidating hotel security guards–you have seen them–allegedly threatened to break heads and cameras. The Enquirer reporters are said to have filed a criminal complaint with the Beverly Hills Police.

I mean you have to admit this is pretty funny. No matter what side of the aisle you rest your laurels, if you don’t look at this with humor and irony, mixed with the usual disgust and admonition, then you are lulling on the ice floes with respect to the cultural and political zeitgeist of the early 21st Century. When you are worth hundreds of millions and your are a very public figure, in fact one that is being considered for the Vice Presidential role, again, or as a cabinet member, you have to feel pretty stupid when you are cornered in the hotel bathroom by a horde of reporters. The only thing worse would be that while you held the door against the narrow shoulders of the reporters, you discover Senator Larry Craig is tapping his lascivious foot at you from inside a bathroom stall.

You have to be an idiot. I’m sorry, but whether or not you want to wax moral on this, and there is plenty of wax on this one to make enough candles to light a sensual sex scene, the morality to me is not the major issue. The issues is whether you are smart enough to run this country. If you can’t take care of your extramarital affairs without getting caught by the media, then how are you going to outfox the Russians, the Iranians the the lineup of “evil doers” you will be dealing with on a daily basis? I mean, how cool can you be.

All right, so up comes the name of one William Clinton. But with Clinton it was different. The women in one form or another ratted him out. He wasn’t caught near in flagrante as was John Edwards. His girlfriend of the moment either talked to the press or talked to her girlfriend who talked to the press, depending on what girl of the moment we were talking about.
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Look, I’m sure there are good qualities about John Edwards. And I’m sure with his wife, Elizabeth, being so ill, there are pressures most of us can’t imagine. He has had his share of tragedy in his life. It is the kind of tragedy that no money nor political or social status will ever fully surmount. You can’t have a child die and a wife that is dying and not be in the need of some relief. Anywhere.

But not here. Not now. That is, if you really want to be considered for Vice President or a cabinet position. If Edwards is on a secret self-destructive bent for one reason or another, then he is certainly in the groove. But I don’t think that’s the case with Edwards. He is far too ambitious to dwell in the world of secret self-denial and self-destruction.

Look, he is definitely an intelligent man, although I don’t care all that much for his personal style. Between the newscaster’s haircut, circa 1980, and the ersatz folksy, populists jingo he spouts from time to time, He is hard to embrace. I see him more as the calculating “Goober Boy,” than as a viable Presidential candidate. I made up my mind on this when asked during one of the oh so scintillating presidential debates what he considers his personal flaw. In fairness, Barack Obama was the only one who gave an ingenuous answer. The rest decided to shuck and jive. But in Edward’s case he “aw shucks” it for a moment and then announced his flaw was that he cared about America “too much.”

I would rather he would have told us he was haunted by unseen and indeterminate demons who, despite what I believe is his genuine love and concern for his wife, he is forced to go seeking solace in the arms of a Santa Barbara MILF where, together they have produced a love child as a result of their passions. Then I would have thought, okay, it’s an imperfect world and it least he isn’t trying to feed me the kind of line you feed the last drunk at closing time.

It least he wouldn’t be living in denial and forcing us to do the same. He wouldn’t sound like Larry Craig.