HOLLYWOOD KITA
(a rude awakening)!
Egos, mine was doing alright by my standards anyway, , I am living in the Hollywood Hills, age nineteen, living the Mamas and Papas song title California Dreaming of the 1960's. Headed west from NYC only a few months before, transport method hitchhiking.
So to be only a few months later living on Alta Loma Vista Terrace in the Hollywood Hills is to me more or less some sort of miracle.
The house was owned by Phillip Ahn, a Korean character actor, who today is best known for playing Master Kan on the television series “ Kung Fu” My older buddy Boston Bob and roommate was a friend of Phillips, hence the house deal, Phillip had a few to choose from it seems.
Twenty foot ceilings, a staircase that reminded me of the one Vivian Leigh adorns in the film Gone with the Wind,a view that overlooks the Hollywood Bowl, and ?where soon the Beatles are to make their first California appearance on the 23rd of August 1964.We had Big plans for that teen scene. The most outrageous thing about my new home was the mountain top elevator that provided access to this exclusive Hollywood enclave, it sure beat those stoops in front of my house in the Bronx.
Electricity was in the air- that sounds like a clique , but really, you could feel that something was in the air, electricity probably not, but something, hard to define on paper, everyone you met of all ages on Hollywood Boulevard ? their first words were “The Beatles are Coming-The Beatles are coming!!” this went on for weeks, hard to believe but it gives me shivers even today,it was one could say a teeny bopper thing, yet not., it was a big deal in those days, life was different then.
.
We are all set for the Beatles California invasion and show time at the Bowl,we have gathered up several sets of field glasses to lower our ticket price, as the view from the house was directly
above and over looking the Hollywood Bowls main stage.
. Coincidentally several days before my roommate/ buddy Boston Bob and I who are working as salesmen at Saks Fifth Avenue, this one located on Wilshire Blvd in Beverly Hills, have rescued a lost pooch,who was crying like a wounded soul, no identification collar, an Afghan hound it seems,we decide to bring the poor thing home and figure out its return to its owner the next day. That night it howled at the moon shining bright outside our living room window forever, so we are more than keen to find the owner one could say..
We have invited about a dozen friends to come enjoy the Beatles concert with us. The house with the view also has a grand fireplace in the corner of our living room and where our elegant pooch has taken over territorial control of ,the scene to me today is dreamlike.
The guests arrive, all strangers to me as my buddy Boston Bob who had been in town for a few years made the invites.
Among the eclectic guests was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, called herself Kita. I am smitten with this California dreamboat.
We are in our living room, I am now seated next to the fireplace with our new roommate Mr. Afghan, the group conversation is about nothing I can remember, other than Boston and I relating our dog rescue tail/tale from Wilshire Blvd, as I was hypnotized by the dreamboat, whom was I thought hypnotized by me, as she could not keep her beautiful eyes off me, sitting by the fireplace.
Almost eye contact was everything to me in those days, my ego was buffed back then.
But being nineteen and from the Bronx did not cure my innate shyness as the age of innocence overcame the ego, but after a lull in the small talk I pulled Boston aside and told him that I had a feeling that Kita was as interested in me as I was in her, I asked him to find out the veracity of this dream surreptitiously so I would not reach for something I could not grasp.
He takes his sweet time, but finally I see Dreamboat and he in a private conversation, I assumed about me. That ends, and Boston after a few moments alludes to a meeting between he and I in the kitchen.
Excitedly I attend. Then he gives me the good news, seems Kita as I thought was hypnotized!, goody,I am overwhelmed, but chalked it up to my innate charm that seemed to resonate in distance.
Then Boston Bob threw me a curve ball, one that I will never forget, seems that Kita was indeed hypnotized, but not by me, but by Mr. FN Afghan! Seems she was one of those gals that was in the doggy world, turns out she was a dog groomer, beautician, and as a show as coming up and she thought Mr. Afghan would be happier in her care than in the care of two gadabout bachelors, she in reflection was correct,and I must admit if dog grooming is your thing, an Afghan hound is the crème de la creme not some young dude from the Bronx. Poof went my balloonn.
Years later on Miami Beach's Washington Avenue, I would once again have my bubble burst, this time late at night in the foyer of a friends apartment building, where a car is parked outside and in the drivers seat is a drop dead gorgeous babe staring directly towards me, not wanting to be too obvious I am catching this drift out of the corner of my eye, where contact is everything, I say goodbye to my friend and walk outside to say hello to someone who seemed to be an admirer of mine, turns out my admirer is a blow up doll. Took the hot air right out my my sails,seems the boutique next door thought it would be a hoot to leave one in a car parked in front of their business, never taking into consideration my ego, which somehow had survived my Hollywood set back
Taught me something, never assume anything, most especially with the babes..
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