A piece of cake

Jim, Will, Edgar, Bill, Lynne, Steve G, Steve & Jeanette, Bobb & Barbara, Bob, Mary, Ian & Regina

Last night at Conrads was all about cake - a 40th anniversary cake! I was celebrating the start of my journalistic career on June 24, 1968. At least, that was when I started to get paid for scribbling, as opposed to the pretend stuff at college.
Regina literally topped off the whole occasion with party hats for everyone (I hope we can download some of the pix!). I felt that Ian and Barbara's shorts - sartorial rather than the movie variety - also added to the gaiety of the evening, however unintentionally.
The only thing missing was, er, the cake. I thought I had sorted this out last week by having a quiet word with the manageress and agreeing a price - she even showed me an example of the triple choccy job that would have suited perfectly. But last night no show. The lady gave me some nonsense about her boss deciding not to buy any more cakes for the diner, strange timing in view of the fact that I had placed a firm order for a whole cake, so no risk of them being left with any unsold slices. It was the most bizarre commercial decision I have come across.
So it was off to Ralph's across the road, who had one almost as good at half the price and Conrads for once had the grace not to charge for letting us eat it on their premises. The saintly Regina again stepped forward, complete with glass of water to keep the knife clean, to cut the cake into more than enough pieces for everyone. It made a great evening, and one I shall remember for a long time.
Inevitably my anniversary prompted a discussion about the newspaper industry, especially the long, slow but accelerating decline of the LA Times and the not entirely coincidental lack of competition either from a citywide LA paper or from local papers such as the abysmal Pasadena Star-News.
My main employer, Rupert Murdoch, came in for his usual quota of abuse but, as I pointed out, look at what Sam Zell has done to the LA Times in the few months he has owned it. Of course, there is much hysteria about Murdoch's changes at the Wall Street Journal, but I think this is as much cultural as megalomanical.
As I have found in my efforts to get work here, there is a much bigger cultural gap than is generally recognised between American and Anglo-Commonwealth ideas of what constitutes a 'good' newspaper. Americans love to sneer at the animalistic instincts of British tabloids, which at least do a good job of denting the outdated image of Britain as toffee-nosed and mealy-mouthed, while Brits routinely yawn at what they see as boring, overwritten US broadsheet features masquerading as in-depth analysis.
The culure gap is exemplified by the differing attitudes to the Journal and Britain's Financial Times, which is generally regarded by British journalists as the apex of business coverage, if a little dull at times. But I have read an LA Times piece dismissing the FT and the current issue of Atlantic Monthly scoffs at it as being trivial or superficial! I nail my colors firmly to the FT mast, and look forward to Murdoch enlivening the Journal.
But, as Jim pointed out last night, the big factor impacting on all newspapers is the internet. It's only the latest incursion, after radio, movies and TV, but this time it looks serious. 'It good and bad,' said Jim, 'because it encourages more freedom of expression but also produces diarrhea.' How true.
The beginning of the LA Times's decline can fairly accurately be dated from the day it was sold to Tribune Group by the Chandler family, which produced a delightful story from Steve Lamb about Otis Chandler.
Steve, as we all know, is a massive auto fan and historian. At the age of 14 he attended an exhibit featuring a car owned by Chandler. Steve spotted an error in it just as the great man was arriving on the spot, earning Chandler's gratitude. Nearly 25 years later Steve is at another exhibit of classic cars when who should sidle up to him but Chandler - who clearly remembered Steve despite the passage of years, a little extra weight round Steve's girth and a major transference of hair from the top of his head to his chin! It said a great deal about Chandler's attention to detail.
Otis Chandler is long gone, but this was the week for remembering the death only a few days ago of the comedian George Carlin at 71. I never saw his shows, but the clips televised since he died have very much the feel of Scotland's Billy Connolly - irreverent, saying the unsayable, breaking taboos on swearing. I don't know whether Carlin was the first, or if Lenny Bruce or someone else beat him to it, but they have certainly spawned a comedy genre that did not exist in gentler times and is miles away from the smutty innuendo of Max Miller.
Like Connolly, Carlin was as much a social commentator as a comedian, for much of his act consisted of making serious points in a funny way about genuine social or political problems, be it gun law or Iraq. One of his favourite targets was the fraudulent preachers who make themselves rich from scaring gullible believers and offering them catchpenny solutions to their problems. But Carlin's starting point is that of an atheist: if it turns out that some sort of god does actually exist, those pulpit scam artists might have been handing out useful advice. Similarly on the political front, like nearly all modern comedians Carlin started from a heavily left-wing standpoint, for that where most of the good jokes come from.
Not that there is any lack of political targets or ammunition, in the dying days of what is coming to be agreed is one of the worst presidencies the US has had to endure. As Bush has boasted, he is living proof that you can be a C-grade student and still make it to the top. Mind you, it helps if your father was also President and can buy you into Harvard.
While I am sure Jeanette does not entertain such uncharitable thoughts, she was buzzing with political talking points after her 1,000-strong national convention of the League of Women Voters in Portland, Ore, last week.
Healthcare was a major topic, with a focus on Japan's and even Switzerland's systems alongside the British National Health Service so cleverly extolled by Michael Moore in his film Sicko! As defenders of the US status quo love to point out, all the foreign schemes have flaws, but none lets a patient go bankrupt. I recently read an investment analyst's report claiming that healthcare is on track to absorb 25% of US GDP by 2025, compared with the present and already bloated 16%. I sense that we are getting close to something radical being done about the problem.
Perhaps Jeanette, and Steve for that matter, will soon have their very own global soapbox right on their doorstep in Alatadena, for Ian was telling us about how the owner of the Coffee Gallery has equipped the upper rooms with a state-of-the-art multimedia studio capable of producing top-class professional TV shows and even films.
Ian sees the potential of this facility for him to maybe make a TV version of his Wednesday internet radio show for Luxuriamusic.com, but the possibilities are enormous. And if the Coffee Gallery can lay on such a studio, why not other property owners in the area? Maybe the area is about to be transformed into another Hollywood! Ian and Steve could have their faces on a Walk of Fame down North Lake...

CAUGHT ON THE BREEZE
Are you shorter than the rest of us, Bill, or are you just slouching?
I just want to write a two-reeler, and then make it
Some people aren't tipping enough - and we know who they are
I wish they could bring the Red Line back again
Do you remember Richard Murdoch? no relation to Rupert
Maybe Phil Spector will come and see the Wrecking Crew documentary
Caltech and the houses to the east were built on a swamp
I just want to be remembered for who I am - but who am I?