Hooray for Hollywood

The middle of March was "Family Reunion Fortnight" in Paradise, Nevada.  The Danish student was visiting America, four years after he lived in my home.  And the German-Siberian student will still be living here for another few months.  So what is one to do when one's house is full?

Road trip!

Road trip to where?  Hollywood.  Actually, to a California beach with a stop in Hollywood en route.  Based on which beach had a hotel room available on a Saturday night for a not-totally-outrageous price, and which would be not-ridiculously-far from L.A., the elected beach was Redondo Beach.  This is a little overview of the California Road Trip 2017 posted to keep my vacation blogging chops intact until Portugal 2017.

We left Paradise early Saturday morning, as soon as Norm The Dog could be boarded for the weekend.  The drive to L.A. was easy, until L.A. traffic made it not-so-easy.  And it was surprisingly hard to find Hollywood based on memory and my book of Rand McNally roadmaps.  Yes, Rand McNally roadmaps.  In 2017.  How retro!  It was like we were going to visit the Hollywood of the Studio System and the Three Broadcast Networks.

We finally found Hollywood.  We parked the car and got out to soak in all the Hollywood.  The Danish student wanted to tour the Dolby Theater.  I wanted to find a few particular "stars" in the Hollywood Walk of Fame.  This was the first one I saw.

I love Terry Bradshaw.  But does he really rate a "star" on the Walk of Fame?  Maybe a hypocycloid on the Pittsburgh Walk of Football Fame.  But "Hollywood"?  It's kind of debasing the currency, no?

And right next to Bradshaw was the star for Earth Wind & Fire.  An excellent R&B/disco band.  Consummate entertainers.  But "Hollywood" stars?  I would've thought their cameo in Sgt. Pepper The Movie would have forever disqualified them from Hollywood star status.  Got to get them into my life.

And here we come to legit Hollywood star.

No no no.  Not the German-Siberian student.  His idol.  The one.  The only.  The irreplaceable.  Bruce Lee.  Yes, that is the level of star power that should be on the Walk of Fame.

Yes.  And Mary, too.  Major star power there.  Looks like she made it after all.

Selfie with the Hollywood sign in the background.  Deep background.

PS.  I need to get my new glasses adjusted.  They keep sliding down my nose giving me the full "Chuck Schumer" effect where the tops of my lenses are completely below my eyes.  Stylish and intellectual-looking, I know.  But not useful for things like, say, vision enhancement.

We next went looking for the Dolby Theater.  It was buried within this giant shopping and restaurant megalopolis.  So L.A.

The Dolby is open for tours,  But not when we were there.  It was closed to the public because of a show being booked in it.  So we had no choice but to use the Dolby doors as a backdrop for a photo of the distraught students.

Also part of this giant shopping and restaurant megalopolis containing the Dolby was the famous Chinese Theater.  Once known as Grauman's Chinese Theater.  Then Mann's Chinese Theater.  Now it's called Somebody-Else's Chinese Theater (but surprisingly not some corporate-sponsorship-deal sort of name).

Lots of Faux Oriental decorative touches.

Here's a nice selfie of me that makes me look like I weigh less than Dom DeLuise after he ate a meal consisting of James Coco and the kid that played Rerun on that's "What's Happenin'" sitcom from the late 70s.

The Chinese Theater is best known for the handprints and footprints in the concrete right outside.  Here I am at the Bette Davis display.

I'm looking for the prints of those famous "Bette Davis Eyes."  Actually, I'm funning around with her handprints.  I can't fit my giant paws inside her handprints.  Bette Davis had tiny hands.  Just like Trump's!

Trump's star is supposed to be in this neighborhood, but I can't find it.  But we did find one of the Danish student's favorite non-Jennifer Aniston stars:  Michael Jackson.  So what was the plan?  Tonight.  We're gonna leave that 9-to-5 up on the shelf.

No. Actually, the plan was next to go into a gift shop.  While the displays were certainly gaudy, nothing was sufficiently tacky as to be worth buying.  So we piled back into the car and headed off into L.A. traffic.  Beach bound.