Real Best L.A.

Downtown
Little Radio
Downtown landmark Little Radio – sometimes home to Sonic Youth or the Beastie Boys, sometimes home to a splashie-pool full of happy shrieking rocker types; it all depends on your timing – has had a heavy virtual presence in L.A. for years, thanks to streaming live DJ sets covering everything between “catchy” and “cosmically obscure.” But any committed L.A. showgoers already cherishing their own private warehouse memories – Dead Meadow? Spoon? Black Rebel Motorcycle Club? – will now swell with joy as Little Radio preps to dramatically expand its practical presence as well. Coming soon (as they say) is Little Radio The Venue: great bands in a great space already known and loved. Could make for a great Christmas present this year. 1218 Long Beach Ave., L.A. littleradio.com. (CZ)

Eagle Rock
Galco’s Old World Grocery
Endless bliss for the fastidious imbibulist. Galco’s offers all good beverages ever made and probably a few known only from legend. Plenty of weird beers for the distinguished types, sure, but the real treats are the aisles of soda-pop oddities: Dad’s, Faygo, Bubble-Up, Moxie, Cheerwine, celery soda, cucumber soda, yerba mate soda (?!) and the special cane-sugar Dr Pepper that comes from and rarely ever leaves one tiny town in Texas, and of course many many many many many many more. Mix and match a six-pack or buy per case or crate, and further goo up your guts with an esoteric selection of candy confections that makes Willy Wonka glow happily in his grave. Loved by Huell Howser and soon too by you. 5702 York Blvd., L.A., (323) 255-7115. sodapopstop.com. (CZ)

East Hollywood
Blacklite and Whitehorse
It’s a one-two punch on a sad stretch of Western: ladies at the Blacklite, and dudes and food at the Whitehorse. Blacklite is scummy, dingy, and filled with people who are utterly friendly and kind – very tall ladies in very small dresses, who it’s possible are open to a transaction or two. (They are ladies, maybe, of the night, but also ladies in the truest sense of the word: They are elegant, sweet-natured, and poised.) Meanwhile, holding up the bar, are men who have labored all day to send money home to villages in Oaxaca, and they will ask you to dance to the cumbia bleating from the box. Put on your biggest smile, prepare to toss compliments around like rice at a wedding, and you will leave with a host of new friends.

Just a block or two up, and across the street, is a cozy watering hole with flattering lights and plenty of room, and a pool table, and an excellent jukebox. Every night at Whitehorse, a small miracle happens: The ladies who run it set out a buffet. There are cookies, and watermelon, and hot dogs – for free! – and say it is 1 a.m. and there is only one hot dog left, and it has been there for a while. If you ask the ladies to make some more? They will make some more! “All you have to do is ask!” the ladies chirp – really chirp, they are so pleased to be able to feed you! It is some sort of Eastern European hospitality or something; if they were Eskimo, you could have slept with their wives. “Thank you, ladies! I was so hungry!” you might respond, and then it is last call, because you have accidentally shut down the Whitehorse. Please, take a cookie for the road! Blacklite, 1159 N. Western Ave., L.A.; Whitehorse Inn, 1532 N. Western Ave., L.A., (323) 462-8088. myspace.com/thewhitehorsehollywood.(RS)

Echo Park
Taix
There are many, many wonderful things in Echo Park. We know this! There is Chango, and Grand Ol’ Echo (usually hosted by our own Chris Morris, with all the croony alt-country so beloved by those of us who were stupid enough to get old), and, you know, other things. But the best – the very best! – is French restaurant Taix, and here is why. First, sometimes King Kukulele plays there, accompanying himself on songs about being his own grandpa. Second, one night many years ago, the manager offered to show me the office, and then offered me cocaine. Third, possibly on the same night, I was in there talking to a couple of sharp-suited Afro-Cubans, and they were bitching about Fidel Castro, and how if you don’t vote for him, he kills you!

“Huh!” I said, rather impressed with the democracy of it all. “I didn’t know he even bothered with elections!” They got mad and left, and then the Salvadorean bartender leaned over and said, “Miami Cubans are bullshit!” and then he bought me a strawberry margarita. And then he bought me another. 1911 W. Sunset Blvd., L.A., (213) 484-1265. taix-french.com. (RS)

Elysian Heights
Elysian Park
Something isn’t natural about all of these concrete freeways and suntanning salons. There has to be someplace to escape it all without driving four hours on the freeway. Someplace. Someplace. The last remnants of nature can be found at Elysian Park, L.A.’s own piece of green in the smoggy city. Offering a breathtaking view of Chinatown, Dodger Stadium, Echo Park, and Cypress Park, the sight almost makes the 5 Freeway bearable. It’s 600 acres that goes unnoticed by the average person, and this is understandable. Tucked away in brush is the Police Academy, so you can pretend you found the rebel base when you stumble upon it. You’re probably saying, “A park, really?” Yes, really. In an age where everyone wants to go green, Elysian Park was doing it before it was cool. You can’t get any greener than the avocado trees that dot the grounds, and hiking trails zigzag about the hills, and make for amazing mind trips if you’re in the right mood (don’t ask what to take to alter your mood, cause we won’t tell). (Nathan Solis)$newpage

Encino
Brendan Fraser
Encino Man was a very, very funny movie, in 1992, if you were, like, a 19-year-old girl. Even though it had Pauly Shore in it. For serious! (RS)

Fairfax District
Silent Movie Theater
Silence is golden, you know, so please turn off your cell phones and pagers, and don’t spoil this paper by adding your own soundtrack. Charlie Lustman took over the silent movie theater on Fairfax in 1997 after the previous owner, Lawrence Austin, was gunned down by his own projectionist. Lustman renovated and re-conceptualized, adding an art gallery and cafe, and hardly ever showing any silent films until 2006, when the venue was bought by brothers Sammy and Dan Harkhan, and Cinefamily was born.

The brothers have turned the theater into a revival house, showing a variety of films from all eras – including silent films with live music performed by Bob Mitchell, who has been playing organ for silent film since 1924. 611 N. Fairfax Ave., L.A., (323) 655-2510. silentmovietheatre.com. (GP)

Glassell Park
Rambos Taco Truck
In the dark of night, right after we stumble out of the bar, there is a pang in our stomachs that can’t be filled with a stop at the local burger drive-through. But what’s that coming on the horizon, with its bright lights? Is that truck on fire? Nay, wayward traveler, that’s Rambos Taco Truck off of Eagle Rock Boulevard, with its airbrushed art and smoke billowing out of the vents. You’d think that a heavenly chorus would be playing as you approach, but instead the waft of carne asada lures you in with a phantom hand waving come hither. If you’re creative enough, the cooks will put just about anything into a tortilla – from lengua (tongue), cabeza (head), tripa (gut) to sessos (brains). The animals are already dead, so might as well eat the rest of it! Glassell Park and the surrounding neighborhoods offer some of the best food from a truck, but Rambos can turn around a bad night with its salsa roja. Just don’t expect to do jumping jacks the next morning, because you’ll be stuck to the porcelain throne. Rambos parks on Eagle Rock Boulevard, between El Paso and York. (NS)

Griffith Park
Sierra Club Night Hikes
At 7 p.m. at least three nights a week, the Sierra Club conducts free two-hour group hikes in the hills of Griffith Park, relying on moonlight and distant city lights for illumination on the way back down from the overlooks. You don’t have to be a club member, but you do have to sign an insurance-related waiver. Sometimes several hundred hikers gather on summer nights, from a wide cross-section of ages and ethnicities.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, hikes are on a difficulty scale ranging from 6 for the most strenuous to 1 for relatively gentle strolls. I usually pick a 3 or a 4; first-timers are advised to start no higher than a 3. Wednesday hikes offer fewer levels. Hikes also take place on the Fridays closest to the full moon.

Whenever I’ve gone, the aerobic workout is invigorating, the views are often spectacular, and you can choose to socialize or not socialize without feeling weird about either choice (although on the uphill climbs above the 3 level, you might be huffing and puffing too much to talk). The volunteer guides seem to know every nook and cranny, but they seldom pause to point out plants or rocks or anything else instructional. Instead, the emphasis is on letting urbanites get away from city stress, even though we’re still surrounded by the city. The crowd gathers before 7 in the north end of the upper parking lot north of the merry-go-round, on the east side of the park, off Griffith Park Drive, (310) 822-9676. angeles.sierraclub.org/griffith/location.asp. (Don Shirley)

Hancock Park
Norwood Young
Oh, gold record recording artist Norwood Young! With your cheekbones and your chin cleft and your manscaping! Sometimes I look at you on the MySpace, where you sing R&B love songs while holding a rose. Sometimes I look at your reality show about holding tryouts to be your butler. (OK, actually, I don’t, but I have heard about your reality show.) Mostly, I drive by your house, at 304 S. Muirfield, your house with the Davids and such. An architectural tribute to beauty, art, glamour, fantasy, flamboyance, and living out loud. A refusal to stay silent, to hide one’s talents or one’s love for Michelangelo. A disdain for blending in, for conforming. And as to your neighbors, Norwood? Your pissy, haughty neighbors with their piss and their haught? Those angry Hancock Parkers can go to hell, as far as L.A. CityBeat is concerned! You want beige, move to Irvine! myspace.com/norwoodyoung. (RS)