Over at the Rainbow

 The Legendary Rainbow Bar and Grill on Sunset Strip is known by select few and loved by... ME!  

  When I first got to LA I was sorely disappointed. I had heard that LA's club scene was, well, cool. From what I had seen, that was a big fat LIE! After I got dragged to a few of the most trendy bars and clubs I came to the conclusion that all LAers do when they go out is rag on each other and try to look important. Sad....sad. Where was the refuge where artists could be themselves? Isn't that why people move to this crazy city? "If you don't fit in anywhere else then you fit in here...." Hmmm, really?

 I was lucky, I found a wonderful vintage house, last on the cul-de-sac, in Beverly Hills. Trees, the occasional fox, Chubby and the Fatty family of raccoons, silence in a noisy city, oh yeah that was the spot! Unfortunately that spot also came with four crazy-ass roommates... Eh! I'll spare you the details but take this into consideration, a former model with serious self esteem problems and dreams of being a singer (dreams she practiced everyday at 9 am), a hippy who had a penchant for nudity, painting at 3am but hated working, a former Soap Opera Star who spent his days getting drunk and talking about when he was somebody, and a truly psychotic burlesque dancer who loved to practice her tap routine on the hardwood right above the other two's bedroom. So yeah, these roommates NEVER got along and what's even more fun, they tried to bring me into the middle of all of their drama. From day one I awoke to screaming echoing out of our giant "Chef's Dream Kitchen" and into my bedroom. I signed a lease... I was stuck. My saving graces, the gigantic wrap around porch, and the fact I was rarely home thanks to production. 

  Film slumps hit me after month two in the house. My film wrapped, and I hadn't been booked for anything else, that meant full time at the crazy house. I started spending more and more time outside, swinging in the hammock, working on my first screen play. After a couple weeks and tons of offers to "table read" what I had already written,(former Soap) co-write(crazy hippy) write the soundtrack (diluted singer) and choreograph the dancing part (psycho burlesque) I couldn't take it anymore! (Did I mention it was a horror film and...um yeah there were no dancing parts) I decided it was time to find somewhere I could go to write in peace. This is how I found The "Bow".

  I lived five minutes from Sunset Strip and didn't much like driving (I had been hit by a Saab, a BMW and a freaking Bentley in my first two months) and liked parking even less. So, I decided to walk... I walked down the Strip and ran across the Rainbow Bar and Grill. Even from the outside I could see the long haired rocker boys, the older and scantily clad "Experienced Band-Aids," a plethora of people who looked like they were just out to have some fun, and hear the pulsing throb of true vintage METAL. I was intrigued. Notebook in hand I walked to the front, gave the door guy 5 bucks and he gave me a free drink ticket! Sweet!  Walking into the back patio I noticed something, something I hadn't seen anywhere else in the city.... People were smoking BY THE BAR! (yeah I know, for all you non-smokers that would be a deal breaker, but guess what, the smoking area is only on the patio, the rest of the building is up to LA's yuppie code) For me this meant a place I could write, smoke and listen to some great music. The vibe was exactly what I needed to spur along the tedious writing process. I found a table at the very back of the patio and set up shop in the interior seat, facing the rest of the eclectic room. Almost giddy with my discovery I flipped open my notebook, gave my pen a good lick, lit my A-Spirit, and delved into the world of a crazed serial killer.

  I had almost made it to page two before I realized the problem with writing at a bar... I was in my world, totally oblivious to the happenings around me when all of a sudden the pristine white and blue lined sheets of my notebook were stained red. My eyes flashed up and fell upon the face of a leather-clad, perfect haired, guy-lined rocker with an embarrassed smile distorting his handsome face. He held a tall glass with a sad but telling two inches of red still lingering at the bottom. He didn't say anything but ran to the bar and came back with the entire reserve of the "Bow's" napkins and sloppily began mopping up the table, my book, and then he attempted to mop up me. Enter Thomas, the bouncer. 

  He appeared out of no where and somehow got between me and Rocker Dude. He looked right at me and asked "You okay? You want me to get rid of this guy?" Oooh! So much power! Muahahaha! But, no, it was accidental and I write with scrap-booking pens so they don't bleed... no harm, no foul. Thomas looked at Guy and said, "I suggest you buy this lady a drink and then get the hell out of my sight." Guy turned bright red asked me what I wanted and then disappeared into the masses. I looked at Thomas, a smile toying at the edge of my mouth, I thanked him, but I told him it really wasn't that big of a deal.  He laughed and told me that Guy was in a band who just went platinum, and thus they thought they were bad-ass. It was his immense pleasure to bust Guy's balls. I couldn't help but laugh! After that, when someone tried to interrupt my writing, Thomas flanked them before I even noticed. I had found the ideal situation!

  I went every night, after scouring the listings for film jobs all day, and immersed myself in the inspirational vibe that penetrated the "Bow". I made quick progress on my film and unbeknownst to me, gained a mysterious reputation. I was treated like a VIP by the people that worked there, getting access to the "Back Entrance" where I could sneak in unnoticed, and I could sit for hours even if I wasn't drinking that night. As money got tighter this became even more comforting as I couldn't justify buying even one drink a night. The bartenders sometimes sent me over plates of food, or brought me drinks that "secret admires" would buy me. Then, as my first month there came to a close, the strangest thing happened.

  The night started off normal enough, I walked to my table, opened my notebook and began writing. Totally immersed in a scene of intense gore and havoc I was pulled from my revelry by the sharp sound of a deliberate cough. I looked up and my eyes settled on two very well dressed rockers sitting at my table. I looked over at Thomas, he smiled and slightly nodded his head. What the hell? The guys introduced themselves and then asked me a series of questions, all very friendly, but hintingly prying. I laughed and turned them around on the guys. We were soon involved in a great conversation. Finally, after they bought me a drink, and tried to buy me two more, they said they had to take their leave, but that I should come to their after party. After party....Like we were at some kind of concert!? They were both really nice and I was happy to meet them, even if it had been a bit strange. I started back to work, writing with renewed vigor when all of a sudden another forced cough, this one a bit more obvious, tore me away once again. 

   This time a couple sat across from me, both blond and beautiful in the way only metal heads can pull off. The same kinda thing happened, they asked questions, we started talking, then after about a half an hour, they took their leave. I was trying to wrap my head around what was going on when I was quickly joined by three other Rocker types. I looked over at Thomas, he was positively beaming, all I could think was "What the HELL is going on? Did I take crazy pills?" from my experience there were very few people who would make the first move to meet someone in LA, (it's not because they're ALL douches it's mostly because everyone is insecure) and I had already been greeted by 7 new people. Cool, I knew I liked this place. The night continued like this, after a group would leave another group would quickly take their place at my table, and talk to me. By the time the lights turned on, I had met something like 20 new people! I tried to ask Thomas what had just happened, but he told me simply not to worry about it. Okay, people, really? I went home smiling, but still a little unsure of the events of the strange night.

  The next day I showed up at the Rainbow and the VIP entrance was closed, I walked through the front where the Door guy "Moose" greeted me with a big smile ( the first I'd ever seen him wear) and told me my table was ready. I smiled back and began walking toward my sanctuary. I hadn't made it five steps before I was intercepted by a recognizable face. One of the girls that had come to talk to me the night before. She gave me a big hug and told me to come hang when I was done writing for the night. I smiled and said I would. I continued walking and every single one of the people from the night before made a huge show of saying hi to me. Wow, was it possible I had found a place where, not only could I find refuge, but I was also being welcomed into the community? That night I wrapped up my writing by midnight and then decided to socialize a bit. Thomas took my script into the back room so I wouldn't have to carry it and I hung out with all my new acquaintances, getting to know bits about them, and sharing bits about me. It was so refreshing to find such a genuine group of people who weren't trying to prove anything, and the only thing they wanted from me was to hang! I found out later, that this group of people are the "locals," all of them well known musicians who found the Rainbow to be exactly what I did, sanctuary, and though I was not a record wielding artist, I had been welcomed into this crew.  

  Iv'e been frequenting the Rainbow since, less now that I've moved into a one bedroom (away from crazy roommates) in the Hollywood Hills, but no matter how long I stay away, I always get the same treatment, like family. It's comforting in this big city to have somewhere where I know I'll see familiar faces, not have to worry about putting on airs, enjoy the music, and yes, even the mostly foreign tourists. The Rainbow has been around for 38 years, and though small changes have occurred through its' history, one thing remains... It's the closest thing LA will ever have to the Small Town Feeling of the favorite local bar back at home...... Plus Rockstars.