The Hustle
No, not the seventies dance craze, but that classic Southern California interaction wherein an optimistic girl or gent spins their dream and tries to convince you to get on board.
Last night I had dinner at the Soho House, a private club of which I am not a member, speaking to its exclusivity. Upon arrival in L.A. the rooftop joint was seen as a gathering place for the connected, to see and be seen, because L.A. is a visual culture, how you look, showing off, is key.
But now the place has been overrun with wannabes. People strutting around like they’re somebody even though they’re unrecognizable. Yes, that’s one of the Los Angeles sports, we may not have a playing professional football team, but we look for stars every day, and we find them. At the grocery store, the car wash and at dinner. We’re all looky-loos.
And last night I did see someone, it was Miley Cyrus. Didn’t she have somewhere better to go?
It’s one thing to see someone famous at a fine dining establishment. It’s another to be up close and personal with a famous face at a place I can get into. I always thought the rich and famous hung where we did not.
True.
But mostly they’re techies and bankers, people with real money.
Entertainers ain’t got that cash.
But they used to.
Used to be you went to L.A. to make your dream come true. Didn’t matter if you had an Ivy League degree or were a graduate of the school of hard knocks. You shined up your personality and started doing the hustle. The only people who went to the head of the line were those with famous parents. And if you met one, you did your best to attach your star to them.
But most people were nobody from nowhere just like you. And you listened to the stories and had meetings and hung out thinking that you were getting ahead and living the life, that if you just paid enough dues you were gonna make it.
But then the dream changed.
Movies became about comic books. No one even knows who runs the studios anymore, they used to be the most famous people in town.
As for music, the record labels consolidated and the billboards were excised from the Sunset Strip, soon to go are the clubs. All that’s left is condos and restaurants.
And it turns out people have to hang somewhere, I was stunned how crowded the boulevard was at midnight, with lanes blocked off for pedestrians waiting to get in. What is so enticing? What are they trying to achieve? Is this just a second tier tryst for those destined to dash their dreams and end up living in a far-off valley doing day jobs?
That’s another element of Hollywood, it weeds out those not up to par. There’s an endless supply of new faces and if you don’t gain a toehold you’re squeezed out. Some go home, most rationalize their decline. Their day job becomes their real job or they or their significant other gets pregnant and suddenly you’re buying real estate and you find out it’s far from your old haunts.
But until that fall from grace… You go to the gym, a toned body is everything in L.A., you go to the right places and you try to get ahead.
But now if you’re educated, if you’ve paid your dues, you want nothing to do with this game, with its false hopes and culling of the herd.
Used to be doctors and lawyers, professionals around the world, looked with envy at the shenanigans in Los Angeles. They did what their parents told them, they played it safe, they had their nest egg, but they did not have fun, they did not live free and easy, their dreams were things they only thought of at night, when they put their heads on their pillows.
But then something changed. Life became tougher. The bottom was nowhere to reside. Hell, you used to be able to live in L.A. on far less than a grand a month, now that’s a couple of dinners for you and your buddies. So those with brains trained their sights on new locations. Watergate killed the gravitas of attorneys, you refrain from telling people you’re a member of the Bar and law school applications are way down, why spend so much to make so little, if you can make any at all? And the doctors themselves helped kill the status of the medical profession, bitching that they were only making hundreds of thousands instead of millions. And all that science was too hard anyway. So the truly gifted went into tech and the mules, those who know how to jump through hoops but need the hoops laid out for them, went into consulting, or banking, They wanted to make that money.
And there’s a whole hell of a lot more money in those fields than entertainment. And a star ain’t what it used to be. They’re not looked up to and they’re not rich. They’re just striving to eat some of the crumbs falling off of the table of those with the true dough.
And if it’s solely glamour you’re interested in, you can go to Miami, it’s much closer to New York anyway.
And if you just want to spend money and party, nothing is better than Vegas, where you can throw off your inhibitions and nothing is written down, although you may appear on Instagram.
And if you’ve got no education, if you’ve got no CV whatsoever, you come to Hollywood, to try to make it on your wits, charm and good looks. It’s every person for themselves, hustlers abound.
They’ll tell you where they’ve been, who they’ve seen, who they’ve hung with. Locations and personalities are the hustler’s currency. And the great thing is none of this can be checked. There’s no LinkedIn for parties. And Facebook won’t tell you what you want to know. Is this person really engaged to so and so? Do they really have a development deal at the studio? Are they rich or broke and just waiting for you to buy them a drink?
Who the hell knows.
It’s disconcerting. In the old days it was the only way to play. Now it appears to be a complete waste of time. An endless reality show where you lie, cheat and steal for attention, and then are instantly forgotten.
And in today’s world where nothing lasts it’s all about the money. And if they had any would they really be showing up here?
