When my producer suggested I stay at his friend’s “great house” in Hollywood hills, I instantly declined. Having some of my best friends from Uruguay living all over LA, plus his own hospitable Long Beach home; I assumed it was pointless to stay at a stranger´s place. After a couple of weeks of moving back and forth between the hot valley, where I had friends, pool, gym, and jacuzzi, all in one place, and the rather cool Long Beach, where I got to hang out with my producer and his lovely family, I decided that maybe I should give Hollywood hills a try.
As soon as I saw the house where I was meant to stay, behind the main house, which turned out to be a rather impressive Tudoresque mansion on top of a hill, with a view that went as far as the beach, and met my host and his girlfriend, I knew this had been the best choice ever. Now, I had a perfect desk to work on the editing of my movie, there was a gym I could use for my daily workout and a pool where I could relax my problematic back, plus, I got to have my own kitchen, living room, etc, in a setting that was perfect for getting a lot of wok done. I could finally unpack for one last time! On my second day at the house, I found myself left alone for the day; both my host and his girlfriend, who actually lives in another beautiful house two doors down, had left for work. I found a little note in the kitchen that said: try these wireless passwords, if they don´t work, there is a computer in the music room.” Anybody who knows me well can surely picture the smile that the words “music room” put on my face. As I descended down the spiraling metallic stairs, I was full of expectation. The room had windows and a door to the outside, so it wasn´t exactly a basement, but it was still a little dark.
As soon as I saw the framed pictures of rock icons that covered the walls, the autographed photos of top latin rock stars, the platinum records (for Chilean band LA LEY), and, above all, the beautiful piano and electronic drum set, it was clear to me: this was a paradise for someone like myself. Now, I was full of questions. Who was this guy, Batman??? After seeing his bat-cave, the secret was out. Who was this guy, who got a drum set as a present from a famous rock star and whose house was a regular hang out for Juanes and Ricky Martin? I would have to find out. Besides all the photos and rock memorabilia, there was, in fact, a computer, and I was able to get online to finish some work. After I was done, I played the piano for like two minutes. I was dying to try my hand at the drums (I have taken some lessons in the past), but I thought I should ask first, so I didn´t do it.
So, why do I feel like I am living inside Californication (the TV show)? Well, there is a season, I think it is season 2, when the crazy and lovely Hank Moody moves to the house of this aging rock star, to write his biography. Though my host does not throw parties with drugs and hookers like the rock star in the show, there is a little bit of that vibe of the rock & roll life everywhere in the house. It has already been four days of Hollywood hills` bliss now. Batman goes to work and comes back home wearing a suit every night. His girlfriend has also offered me her own computer for Internet, her gorgeous pool, and her bigger gym. The guy is a riot. He is funny and smart, and, at about 60, he still maintains an endearing childish heart. Apparently, he used to live here with his second wife, who was a big record company executive, hence all the music connections.
Three days into my stay at the “casita” (the name given to the guest house I am currently occupying), I discovered a room I hand´t seen before: Batman´s library. Most Latin Americans I know wouldn´t associate a house like this, in one of the most expensive areas of Hollywood, with a revolutionary mind, but such is the case with my host. He is passionate about history and world politics, and he has an impressive collection of non-fiction and biographies, including a book I casually mentioned to him, which happened to be sitting on one of the shelves: Hitler and Stalin: parallel lives; which should be in all the history programs in every school on the planet. He is also passionate about Che, and his Che-related book collection seems quite comprehensive.
Yesterday, as I was waiting for my friend Vartan to drive over to the hills to pick me up for dinner at nearby restaurant (excellent fish, by the way) Vermont, I fixed myself a bloody mary with a stick of celery and went into the library to browse through some books. Although I just got my Amazon orders’ booty, including two delicious Orhan Pamuks (Snow and The Museum of Innocence), I really wanted to get a taste of my host´s literary treasures. A tiny pocket book sitting on the lamp table caught my attention: 101 things to do before you die. It was the perfect little thing for casual browsing; I did get started with a Nabokov story collection, but I just wasn´t in the mood. The 101 things included things like “be in a police lineup,” “have a threesome”, and “stage dive”. Although the three examples are things I have never been inclined to do, I realized, to my surprise, that I had done a fair amount of the 101 things. At the same time, I thought about my host and his interesting life experience. My guess was that, at 60, he had covered most of the 101 things, and he wasn´t planning on stopping any time soon.
