Real Best L.A.
Highland Park
Mr. T’s Bowl
A onetime bowling alley with a decidedly pre-war vibe clinging yet to its noble old fixtures, Mr. T’s is the pride of Highland Park and one of the glories of Clubland L.A. Five bucks (at most) will get you three to five musical acts (many on the hugely entertaining noise-weirdo fringe of the local scene), fine camaraderie from unpretentious locals, and a feeling of cozy well-being afforded by no other L.A. venue. The latter might well be my subjective response to a room so far up in my comfort zone, as I once did a hootchie dance in gold lame hot pants on a rickety runway constructed there to rigorous Cacophony Society safety specs. Give the people what they want, I say, and so the Bowl does, maintaining a cheerful hangout for those on the cult/hardscrabble end of the three-chord biz.
Built in 1929 as a garage, the place was converted into a bowling alley at the height of the sport’s vogue in the early 1940s and was still alive with crashing pins when Joe “Mr. T” Teresa bought the place in 1966. Bowling had had it by the early 1990s when the place was converted to live music, with freaky kids jostling at the bar with neighborhood geezers. It’s been that way since, good years and bad, with waves of trendies from Silver Lake and Echo Park periodically “discovering” the place and, with their sadly gnatlike memories, fading away. A good thing too, lest the place turn into another Tangiers. 5621 1/2 N. Figueroa St., Highland Park, (323) 256-7561. mrtsbowl.tripod.com. (Ron Garmon)
Hollywood
Upright Citizens Brigade
In 2005, they heard the voice of society, begging, and so Antoine, Colby, Trotter and Adair – better known as Upright Citizens Brigade founders Ian Roberts, Amy Poehler, Matt Walsh, and Matt Besser – planted their second comedy academy across from the Scientology Center. From then on, the jokes wrote themselves. (With gentle help from the UCB’s respected improv and sketch-writing instructors, of course.) Now the UCB is an L.A. comedy institution: doting mother to a sharp new breed of comics and home of the mighty ASSSSCAT improv, as well as current shows curated by Jeff Garlin and Judd Apatow. As they wish they could say at other institutes of higher learning: Through these doors pass the most hilarious people in the world. 5919 Franklin Ave., Hollywood, (323) 908-8702. ucbtheatre.com. (CZ)
Koreatown
Miss T’s Barcade
Console yourself at Miss T’s Barcade, where twin torrents of beer and quarters power a selection of adorably classic video games all the way ’til last call. Owners Ricky G (of Very Be Careful, who should be in this Real Best and now are!) and Miss T have created something so pure and good with this Koreatown bar that one day a halo may sprout where the neon Inky currently hovers. But until then, you can bleep your brains out with wild and worthy club nights – including Def Before Disco, the forward-thinking club that smashes Dilla into Dead Kennedys and disco every third grateful Wednesday – and a very hospitable beer/wine selection. And, of course, the games: genre landmarks like Spyhunter, Donkey Kong, Centipede, Rampage – if ever a game lent itself to pounding beers! – and the glorious cocktail-cabinet version of Ms. Pac-Man, restored finally to an environment where you can watch ghosts scuttle by through the bottom of a bottle. 371 N. Western Ave., L.A. (323) 465-5045. myspace.com/miss_ts_barcade. (CZ)
Leimert Park
Griot Workshop
On the second Tuesday evening of every month, storytellers and listeners gather in a storefront space for the Griot Workshop, named after keepers of the oral tradition in West African cultures. Contemporary griots tell tales, from their own lives as well as from history, myth and other sources. If the teller is willing, audience discussion follows – hence the “workshop” in the name. But you don’t have to say a word to enjoy the talk – simply pay your $3 admission charge. Usually presiding is the charismatic, dreadlocked Michael McCarty, who founded the workshop in 1996. After the show, ask to see his collection of more than 300 bumper stickers on his 2001 Nissan Sentra. KAOS Network, 3335 43rd Pl., L.A., (310) 677-8099. havemouthwillrunit.com. (DS)
Lincoln Heights
St. Vincent DePaul’s Thrift Store
This vast, untidy sprawl is the best-kept secret in thriftdom, with hordes of working-class moms jostling with ink-dipped hipsters every weekend scrabbling for low-priced oddments and second-hand treasures. There is 90,000 square feet of appliances, bedding, clothes, furniture, player pianos, sports equipment, and a big haul of dusty books into which I dive every month or so since discovering the place back in ’03. My latest treasure a 1957 Scribner’s hardback edition of Citizen of the Galaxy by Robert A. Heinlein, formerly the property of Long Beach Unified School District and looking fit for another half-century’s wear. Price $2. 210 N. Ave. 21, L.A. (323) 224-6280. svdpla.org. (RG)
Little Tokyo
Usui Restaurant
Thirty years ago, when nothing else mitigated the soul-wrecking bleakness of L.A.’s Civic Center east of the freeway, Little Tokyo lit up many lunch hours. You passed from your bureaucratic warren, whether at City Hall, Parker Center, or the Times, quickly to the tiny, spotless, Asian oasis of your choice, where you settled in for your sashimi, donburi, teriyaki or udon – then exotic fare elsewhere – and a restorative Suntory beer or two. And you’d find that your career treadmill had, just for an hour, become slower and happier.
Nowadays, the same strip on First and Second streets offers sanctuary not just from suited mediocrity but from the clamor of downtown’s artsy residential mecca. Little Tokyo’s acquired some miniature malls, but it retains retail antiquities dating at least to the exiled Nisei return of over 60 years ago. For instance, Anzen Hardware, at 309 E. First – probably both the smallest and oldest hardware store in Midcity, and the only one selling the farm tools you saw the peasants using in The Seven Samurai.
Many First Street restos these days suffer from underachievement and nearly identical menus. Not typical, but perhaps archetypal, is Usui, whose sushi, sashimi, and udons are a good dollop tastier than average, and whose salmon dishes come garnished with translucent coppery spheres of fresh salmon roe. Entrees top out at $9. Your restorative beer bears the 1980s price of $2.50, domestic, or $3.25, Japanese. 323 E. First St., (213) 680-1989. (Marc Haefele)
Los Feliz
Fresh-Pressed
A silk screen shop with the squeaky-clean charm of an In-N-Out Burger, Fresh-Pressed offers packages for customers both casual and committed: press rentals for rootless designers, house-call service for on-the-road screening parties, by-the-batch production for bands or artists (or just someone with a pithy quip too long to fit on a bumper sticker), and even one-of-a-kind T-shirt runs if your idea is just too good to ever share. Use your screens (if you aren’t gonna make a mess) and materials or drop off your art and let them do the work – they stock American Apparel, Alternative, and eConscious; they’re open to working with glass, metal and wood, too. 4646 Hollywood Blvd., L.A., (323) 663-7374. fresh-pressed.com. (CZ)
Published: 09/24/2008
DIGG | del.icio.us | REDDIT
