Erik Plambeck

I ended the night saying to the one person I never have to explain myself to, “With all the difficulty of getting it, and living among people that don’t, with all our feelings of madness, being alone, poor, and struggling, at least we have the comfort of knowing that when it’s finally good, it will be good, really fucking good”.

I5 FWY

I took the 5 freeway up from San Diego on Monday, my day off, for a drive away from everything, to find refreshment and understanding in some amazing restaurants and conversation. After a quick stop, I arrived at Spago around one oclock, for a meal I don’t think I will ever forget. In the framework of a nineteen nineties white tablecloth restaurant, that by the end of the meal I was smiling at in endearment, I enjoyed the delightful cuisine of world famous chef Wolfgang Puck, a bottle of Tempier Rose, as well as Massolino Barbera, and remembered that there are others who are in the know, that share the same perspective as I do, towards creativity, life, and utter madness. We began the meal laughing over both of us saying, “were so rich”, and after leaving the esparagus filled shoes by the bathroom, I walked out of the frosted doors of Spago into strange LA weather thinking to myself that I may not be rich in monetary means, but I could live today as everyday, regardless of whether it was set within the framework of a shack in the forest or a house in the hills.

Naturally, I took the opportunity to fall flat on my thoughts over Fleetfoxes on the player and a drive up the hills to Mulholland. The windows down, the back roads of Beverly hills, the welcomed reclusive silence, and stories of stupid parties in the hills led us to Mulholland Drive. We stopped off at the Mulholland drive lookout to take in the view, possibly take a piss, and ponder who owned this amazing modern home on the ridge. I asked an older couple if there was a restroom anywhere near and the man proceeded to point down a trail and respond, “you can go down there, just don’t light a match”.

Almost everyday I have somewhere to go, something to accomplish, or someone to meet, but I found myself careless and rather than go back the way I came, I continued my journey down the backside of the hills, indifferent to the idea of getting completely lost, and ended up at a great little coffee shop on the border of studio city and sherman oaks. My double cappuccino was perfect. The foam was one of the best I have seen in a long time and they had almond, soy, and some other milk that was impressive to my counterpart. We sat outside in the heat and I enjoyed the normalcy of our most common interaction, me silently thinking and her texting away.

After the drive I ended up back where I began, excited about a mission to find sunflower seeds, accompanied by a little rest to the sound of Garden State. Idealism permeates all areas of life. It seemed the topic of the day and it carried right through into the search for sunflower seeds. The first brand we found weren’t up to par and there was no damn way we were about to get seduced into that fifty percent less salt shit.

No Damn Way

Less salt…it’s only good when pertaining to the green bottle of soy sauce rather than the red. It only took two more blocks to find the appropriate brand, harvest, and vintage. I took the opportunity to discuss Jean Luc Godard’s Breathless, its wonderful portrayal of passive and active nihilism, and the so often misunderstood ending.

“I’m ok with being unimpressive, I sleep better.” It had been a while since I had watched Garden State, but I hadn’t forgotten how much I identify, as most kids do, with the movie. I watched the movie drifting in and out of sleep, taken back to old memories of the people and places I had experienced the film with before, occasionally waking to spout off some quote or explain how meaningful some tiny little detail was to me.

I could say so many things about Mozza Pizzeria. The way it looked, what was said, what we were wearing, but I would rather just say we had a bottle of Lini Lambrusco Rosato, caprese salad, ahi stuffed peppers, and hand made pizza.

I had a long drive home ahead of me, plenty of time to contemplate my difficulty with everyday living and the normalcy of being away and with someone who shares a similar perspective. I dropped her off on St. Andrews Street, put on In Rainbows (the best baby making music according to her) and drove away wondering if what I had just said about when it’s good was already now.