In this economy, it appears the Art Walks around town have increased in popularity.
Perhaps it's because it's free.
Or maybe it's because it's good people watching.
In any case, I have been going to a lot of them lately.
Last weekend, Mads and I planned to go to the Miracle Mile Art Walk. If we could have found parking near the Page Museum/La Brea Tar Pits, we would have stopped since I have been wanting to go back there having last stepped foot in there in the 1970's when I remember sommersaulting down the hill.
I didn't want to recreate the sommersault, but since the Art Walk made the museums along Wilshire free, I thought it would be fun.
We didn't, however, find parking so we hauled our artsy selves towards Culver City for yet another Art Walk.
This one was stretched out in a comfortable fashion.
Good people watching and pop up bands in parking lots.
We dallied where there was music.
And we followed crowds into little doors.
As an avid people watcher, I sought out good subjects to focus on.
There was one man, in particular, who caught my eye.
He looked homeless in his suit and flip flops sporting a mountain man beard.
He was handsome but also looked crazy.
Was he homeless?
I tried to snap a photo.
I first saw him on a bridge. He was just staring blankly at the empty river below us.
I couldn't take his pic without being noticed so I forewent the impulse.
But as we art walked, he ended up in several galleries with us.
He was with a woman who looked very hip.
Hmmm...probably not homeless.
Then, a family with a tweenage daughter on a scooter started to embrace him.
"I don't think he is homeless," I said to Mads.
"Maybe they are all homeless," she said giggling.
The man spoke.
He had an accent.
He seemed kind of revered.
I tried to snap his shot again in the gallery.
I missed. But I did get a shot of his beard and the scooter-riding tween.
And as my camera clicked, I realized who he was.
Viggo Mortensen.
Yes, I was mistaking the Blouse Man and Aragorn for a homeless man.
Now I really wanted to get his photo.
But somehow, after that moment, he seemed to disappear from following us into any more galleries.
Pity.
Mads and I walked by a window display of a second hand store.
There was a "Goldfinger" movie poster on the wall.
The song started to weave its way into my brain.
I belted out the only lyric I knew which was "GOLD FINGA"
And as I was about to do it for the 8th time in a row, I sang, "GOLD-" and stopped.
I spotted a man who was approaching us.
He had one hand that was normal and the other hand only had two fingers on it. Like the others had been mangled in an accident.
I don't know if he noticed this but he may have noticed Mads who is not one to sing or belt out lyrics. But she somehow chose that moment to fill in where I left off, "FINGA" she sang.
I couldn't help laughing and telling her as we passed him.
Our laughter, if he could hear it, probably made him nervous like we were laughing at him.
We are probably still going to hell, since that wasn't our intention.
But you know what the road is paved with...
On a futile search for free wine, we went to Royal/T.
The waitresses look like french maids and the japanese art and kitsch factor drew the crowds.
The free wine wouldn't be available for awhile so we parused the shops and partook of the art around us.
After the fun of that ran its course, and seeing as how we were parched for some liquor, we wandered on over to the Culver Hotel.
Apparently, the actors playing the Muchkins stayed there during filming of "The Wizard of Oz".
It was pretty cool in there.
Mads grabbed my camera and snapped several shots of me
And I did of her.
And we came to the conclusion that we both think we look weird in photos (which is why out of respect to her and the cease and desist letter, I haven't posted them of her here).
There was a man waiting by himself at a table.
We watched waiting to see if he was there for an internet date.
We didn't see her arrive, but we did see her behavior shortly after sitting down.
She looked bored.
I have met women like her. Beautiful but lacking in something to say.
She seemed annoyed by him but was giving him weird come-hither looks (which seemed to be her way of coming off as interesting - "eye acting" I like to call it).
But as they sat there, while her wine glass's contents dwindled, her demeanor towards him softened.
And he finally made her laugh.
And just like the social anthropologists we are, Mads and I felt our study of "The Date" had garnered enough information for us to call it complete.
We finished our drinks and headed towards our next adventure on Fairfax.
People watching was free and we had become experts at it.
The night was ours.