PERSON OF LA 17: The Dream Big

A classic stereotype of the performer is the small town boy or girl who packed up everything they own in a small suitcase, hitchhiked West with a kindly truck drive, to be dropped off on Hollywood Boulevard, where they were quickly discovered and introduced to a life of luxury and fame. This classic stereotype is a great myth of yore.

(Today, the only thing that comes remotely close is the small town boy or girl who is forced to pack up his or her life because they have a parent with a savvy business sense and lack of shame that will drive them to exploit their child for profit. This is the modern version of the myth.)

Yet, people still move to Los Angeles with that mindset. Many become professional extras, some get caught up working in the system behind the scenes, some are derailed from their aspirations and forgot what they even came here for, some move back, some die, and some actually “make it.” These people who do this are the Dream Bigs. They have and know their dream and want so much for it to come true.

However, in an ever changing and greedy industry, a lack of knowledge and prowess leaves these hopefuls washing up before they ever were. They become street performers on Hollywood Boulevard. They become secretaries for production houses. They get caught up in avant gardist theatre when they just want to do film. They cycle through classes upon classes upon classes because their “break is just around the corner.” They have a doggedness that is admirable but an inability to grasp reality that is so big, it proves detrimental.

Dream Bigs are in the pursuit for good. They are here to act or sing or dance or tell jokes. They aren’t going anywhere. Some have been here for twenty, thirty, forty years still trying to stick their square peg in Hollywood’s round hole.

The Dream Big represents the reason why everyone moves to Los Angeles: to follow his or her dreams of success on the big screen. These people are hopeless but also quite the source of inspiration. They are sad but also innocent. They are unfazed and unjaded and unbiased. They still have hope and, because they still believe they can do it, so do others. Their drive is infectious. They are nice, genuine people (albeit mildly stupid).

It’s hard knowing a Dream Big: you just want to help them and, for whatever reason, they won’t take it or they will fuck it up. It’s not that they don’t want the help: they just want that discovery—they want someone to love them for who they are and who wants to turn who they are into a movie star.

TOXICITY LEVEL: 6

These people aren’t mean or rude or disgusting like other sixes. However, they are just so sad and helpless and “self-sufficient” that having relationships with them is extremely difficult. You just will just end up annoyed, depressed, and angry. It is best to keep these people at arms length. That way, you can still find them inspiring and helpful, rather than sad Never Wases.

PERSON OF LA 5: The Worldly Frat Boy

Prepare to be perplexed: this one is a modern anomaly.

The Worldly Frat Boy is a very common type of Person of LA. Obviously, these are men. They range from recent college graduates who are agent’s assistants to fortysomething executive producers in television. They all went to middle-of-the-road schools or party schools and were actual fraternity boys. They don’t hang their Sig Ep paddle in their office, but you will catch them talking to an old bud on the phone talking about the last ASU baseball game. Many times, where they work is inundated with at least four other guys from their school’s frat (all of them from different generations). They all help each other out.

The aforementioned is what the average American views the standard for frat boy behavior to be. The thing that sets apart LA’s own Worldly Frat Boy from your common keg tapping, beer bellied, good old boy is that these guys try their hardest to maintain a façade of empathy, feigning intellectualism. They feel the pressures of Los Angeles weighing down on their small town upbringing and conservative college’s teaching: they feel they have to be “current.”

The best example of this is the recent fight in Los Angeles against Prop 8 and the gay community’s civil rights campaign. Let’s think: how would a frat boy—who was the bullying oaf in elementary school, who called the arty kid a “faggot” in the halls—react to such a movement? If you guessed, “Try their hardest to get Prop 8 repealed,” you would be correct! These guys make it a point to be overly politically correct and savvy on this issue as to seem “on top of things,” so their front of intellectualism will not be destroyed. They were the guys at your 2008 election party who—after Obama won—announced to the crowd, “This was a historic victory, but we have to see what happens with Prop 8. Anyone want some more beer?”

These guys were the first in the office to mention Natasha Richardson’s passing away and noting, “Who the hell was she? This death is probably the most famous thing to happen to her!” These men are a product of Variety.com and the LA Times. They have subscriptions to The New Yorker, but only read the comics. When you go to their houses, it’s decorated as if a La-Z-Boy catalogue fucked an Ikea model. Do not be surprised if the music of choice in the household is Maroon 5 or Jason Mraz (to stay “sensitive”). There will also be a non-sensical vanity purchase somewhere in the house, like a monogrammed pool table or muraled ping-pong table.

The Worldly Frat Boy only shops at Whole Foods with his Small Town Airhead (entry coming soon) girlfriend or wife, because they only eat “organic” and “healthy” foods (they’re also too nervous to go the market alone, since the West Hollywood location is full of gay men). They listen to left-of-center music that aren’t left-of-center anymore: they’re just now getting into Modest Mouse, the Postal Service, Feist, etc.—they wear their listening to this as an all access pass to things current. They saw The Hangover and told friends they DIDN’T like it, they only drink Pelligrino (but refer to it as “bubbly water”), and joined the Academy just for the screeners.

The Worldly Frat Boy is an all too common form of man that stems from the more common Douche (entry coming soon). And, from perusing Facebook and tapping the national pulse, it seems the World Frat Boy is catching on, since it is such a great mask to hide any 20 – 50 year old man’s embedded homophobia, racism, sexism, etc.: because they are worldly and “current,” they care.

TOXICITY LEVEL: 6

These guys are just really, really annoying. They can be tolerated, but are best handled in mixed company. A one-on-one with a WFB is asking for an altercation. And, if you work for one, you’re going to lose brain cells. There is no doubt about that.

PERSON(S) OF LA 3: The Church of Perez Hilton

Let’s open this entry with a disclaimer: the writers of this blog do not ascribe or follow The Church of Perez Hilton. We like to keep at arms distance from things too innately Los Angeles.

To greater America, Perez Hilton is a one-man freak show/faggot genius. He has single-handedly reshaped how the world views blogs and how the world views celebrities. He has turned the idea of paparazzi on its head as well as the idea of bottom feeding for fortune. And, he’s done a fine job turning a common Mexican surname into a badge of cultural witticism. You go girl!

In Los Angeles, Perez Hilton is a demigod of sorts. He is a power just as great—if not greater than—Scientology. It is very common for dinner table conversation or tea with a friend to kick off with the “OH MY GAW DID YOU READ PEREZ TODAY.” If you did read Perez, you and your friends will laugh, guffaw, and pat each other on the ass. If you didn’t read Perez, be prepared for the backlash: you are going to be viewed as a crazy person and likely looked down upon by your friends. Just a kind warning, dear reader.

The reason why Perez has such a grip of Los Angelenos kitty cats and cucumbers is because he’s nationally topical and geographically topical, making Los Angelenos feel directly connected to his writings. When Perez posts about a free Mika concert at The Echo (or wherever—this is all hearsay. And, Mika sucks.), expect to get at least five text messages about “PEREZ SAID FREE MIKA CONCERT WE HAVE TO GO!! LOL!!”

Now, we are recessionistas—we understand the value of free concerts, events, etc. However, going to a free Perez endorsed event is asking for trouble. Since most of the city reads the blog with the fervency of a rabid Alexa Chung fan, you are likely to incur swarms of people, zero parking, and hidden fees. It just isn’t worth it.

However, Perez has done some good. As a gay Los Angeleno, he has fought the good fight and has crusaded against Prop 8. He’s listed walks and protests and ways that locals can get into the action. He has pushed gay rights into the minds of Middle America and will probably go down in the history books as the lingering fart of an annoying gay activist. He is even responsible for making Carrie Prejean a superstar.

Yes, this is all well and good and has helped the chosen people. However, most civic minded and intellectual gays have condoned his spirit—but not his actions. He has taken the “MOMMY I WANT MY BLANKETTTT” (well, “MAMA YO QUIERO MI MANTAAAA”) form of protest to heart. He has done a good part of spreading the fight to younger generations but has become a blemish on the gay community’s moisturized and chiseled face. His “whine until you win” activism has made him the face that many Middle Americans view as all gay men. He has become the epitome of why they hate gays: they are annoying, flamboyant, sedentary, and vicious bitches.

Now, let’s digress from politics and move into dealing with followers of the Church of Perez Hilton. Since there are so many followers in Los Angeles, it’s not a good idea to give yourself away as a non-reader unless you want to be greeted by chastisement. However, there is something to be said about the person who stands up and aligns him or herself with the Church of Michael K. of Dlisted.com or Followers of Pink Is the New Blog or even Brothers and Sisters of Scandalist.com: these people are cultural warriors, expanding their minds to other bitchy bloggers.

When caught in the “Did you read Perez?” trap, you have three options:

1. “No, I don’t read Perez Hilton”—this is followed by a barrage of “WHAT YOU DON’T READ PEREZ??” and “WHO ARE YOU??” and likely a bludgeon to the head with a wine bottle.

2. “No, I didn’t catch Perez. Today. What did he say?”—whether your statement is fact or fiction, this is always a good avoid. Remember: lying that you didn’t have a chance to get online is a good exit from anything.

3. “Yes, I ‘did’ read Perez today.”—this is the highest recommended response, by pretending to have read it. The churchgoer is going to divulge the information whether or not you actually read it, so just say yes, let them spill the cultural beans, and then agree with them/match their excitement. (And, nine times out of ten, you probably heard about this cultural tidbit well before it hit Perez because you read better blogs. This option is fool proof.)

Perez Hilton’s site is a lot of good, a lot of bad, and a lot of STFU. Please read with caution. And, if you have an addiction and would like to wean yourself off of it, we can make an entry on how to quit Perez. It won’t be that hard for you (we quit BestWeekEver.tv—it was remarkably eas).

TOXICITY LEVEL: 4 - 6

These people are generally harmless and sometimes go unnoticed. Some are more fervent for others. However, they can all be duped into thinking you are a follower as well. Never forget that information.

PERSON OF LA 1: The “Busy”

Everyone in Hollywood is busy. Some work three different jobs as to stay afloat in this town, some hold such high level jobs that they are just never not busy, some are supporting a family or children and are depended on, and some are just perpetually “busy.” At some point, these busy people untangle themselves from their convoluted web of work and make it out to play and be a normal human being.

However, the “Busy” are an exception to this rule.

This group of people—known as “The Busy”—consists of people who are just a mess. They are the type who hold low-level office jobs (usually an assistant of some sort or low level manager) and are always just “so busy.” Truly, they do work long hours, but not as long as they claim to work. And, their exhaustive boss usually isn’t that exhaustive—just annoying and frustrating.

The “Busy” are a group marked by their discontent from their own lives. They usually function with friends and coworkers in a positive vain. However, if you pay close attention, you can tell these persons are acting: their positivity is a thinly painted gloss of “Pretend to Care,” neatly covering their negative demeanor. They are usually very, very dry and would taste better with a lot of salt.

Obviously, the reason they behave in this manner stems from their job. These people are (or, were) smart, creative, and determined, but were handed great entry level jobs that ended up being their biggest nightmare. And, now, they are plagued by the question “Why did I take this job?” and “How can I quit?” They feel tra[[ed (or just don’t have the balls to quit their jobs). They take this frustration out on everyone they interact with by passive-aggressive means—never actually calling themselves out for creating their own demise.

This passive-aggression manifests itself when the “Busy” is actually out, being social with friends. Here are some examples of interactions with the “Busy”:

FRIEND: “I saw UP recently—talk about a great film. I cried so hard!”

“BUSY”: “Oh, that must be nice to see a movie. I think the last time I saw one was at work, when my boss let me borrow the Milk screener. I think I cried.”

FRIEND: “Oh. Well, um, you should try to see UP if you can…”

“BUSY”: “I won’t be able to. I have to spend my time off doing things I can’t do while at work. Like cash my paycheck.”

FRIEND: “Oh, that sucks—that really—“

“BUSY”: “Yeah. I know. This is my life.”

AUNT OF “BUSY”: “I’m glad you made it over for dinner tonight—I know you sometimes have to be on shoots over the weekend—“

“BUSY”: “Yeah, this is my first day off in three weeks.”

AUNT OF “BUSY”: “I hope you’re getting paid overtime—“

“BUSY”: “Nope: get paid on a weekly flat rate. Doesn’t matter how much I work.”

AUNT PLAYS WITH HER SALAD

“BUSY”: “Could be worse, though: I could have to babysit my boss’ son at work again. And then have to make his wife a Mother’s Day gift on set.”

UNCLE OF “BUSY”: “Why don’t you just get a new job?”

“BUSY”: “Well, you know, I’m just trying to—see—it’s about paying your dues.”

UNCLE OF “BUSY”: “You’ve had this job for two years—I think you can move on.”

AUNT PLAYS WITH HER SALAD

“BUSY”: “I guess, but you really don’t get it. You haven’t met my boss.”

“BUSY” TAKES OUT HER BLACKBERRY

AUNT OF “BUSY”: “Your boss?”

“BUSY”: “I just got a BBM. I may have to go soon.”

“BUSY”: “Sorry I’m late: I brought some leftover hummus and three slices of cake leftover from dinner at work. But, I stopped by a liquor store and picked up a bottle of Pinor Noir.”

PARTY HOST: “Oh, don’t worry about it! You didn’t have to bring anything—I know you just came from work.”

“BUSY” SITS DOWN ON COUCH AND AGGRESSIVELY CHECKS HIS BLACKBERRY

PARTY HOST: “Wow, more work? You just left!”

“BUSY”: “No, I was just on the Facebook. But, I just got an e-mail, so, one sec.”

PARTY HOST PLACES LEFTOVER HUMMUS AND CAKE SLICES IN KITCHEN

PARTY HOST: “Everything okay?”

“BUSY”: “Yeah, I think so: my boss is just antagonizing from afar. Don’t be surprised if I have to leave. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with this.”

PARTY HOST’S TWO YOUNG KIDS RUN INTO THE ROOM

PARTY HOST: “I suppose. I have enough trouble keeping up with my own two little people, versus one antagonizing boss—let alone my own boss. But, I guess people deal with stress differently!”

SILENCE

DOORBELL

PARTY HOST: “Oh, that must be another guest!”

The “Busy” is, mostly, a terror to hang out with. When inviting a “Busy” out, be prepared to have a wet blanket placed on top of the glowing flame of plans you made. And, when texting or e-mailing or attempting any planning with the “Busy,” expect false promises to be made and a last minute flake-outs, such as “Oh, I’m still busy with work” or “I should be free in an hour” (but never hear from them).

These people are, usually, liars and need to be medicated. If you know a “Busy,” please do your best to get them help.

TOXICITY LEVEL: 6

These people are virtually harmless. Annoying and shitty friends, yes, but they're just in a rut. They'll eventually eventually snap out of it (once you talk them ointo getting a new job).