Wish You Were Here 

Yesterday evening I returned from a still photography shoot and immediately dozed off. It just so happened that, during those exact moments, my neighbor Wes and his friend Aaron were having a jam session well-suited for nearby nappers. Yes, that’s right, here in LA there’s no need for an iPod; live music is the soundtrack to your life.

I swear, really, I’ll just be walking down the street and there is always some guy with a guitar following me and singing the perfect song. All the time. True story.

I mean, I've sat in Babyface's living room while Vanessa Carlton played the piano and sang and I've jammed with my pal Skunk Baxter and Yellow Card used to live in my building and one time I yelled out my window for them to play Crimson and Clover and they did...

There is a lot of accessible talent here.

I woke up and stumbled next door and made Aaron’s acquaintance and he and Wes played my favorite song along with For What It’s Worth and some other jammy bits. Suddenly, more people were there and we ate steaks and tomatoes and roasted potatoes and more tomatoes (both orange and red for variety). To end, we had coffee and the best cheese danish ever (a.k.a. the Friday tradition).

Then we all walked downstairs so that someone parked on the street could move their car as it was necessary to go get some beers (sorry M.Sto). Aaron brought his guitar and he and I stood strong and held the amazing parking space. I spied two people making out in a Jetta across the way and dared Aaron to play some love music to aid them in their efforts. Aaron accepted said dare by busting out Mr. Big and the girl and her guy cracked-up and were like, “Thanks!” and then they were gone and we knew that we had made their lives better. In that same moment, our friends returned to their spot, so we retraced our way through the lobby, up the elevator shaft, down the hall and back to Wes’ singing Mr. Big during the entire trip like some sort of midnight Partridge Family (except with way better hair and fashions).

Now that those guys had their beers, we played Texas Hold ‘Em. I busted our host Wes out, which would have made me feel bad save I’m too sporting and I know better than to feel bad over things that happen properly in a game. I didn't win though, my nap had worn off and the music was making things dreamy...

I was the first to walk my five steps home.

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