Saturday, June 03, 2017

Silicon Valley Part 1: Baywatch 3D

In California there's the Silicon Valley we all know, the one where enchanted unicorns roam, munching on free farm-to-table fodder while changing the world one Nerf battle at a time. And then 400 miles south there's another swathe of silicon, only here it's perfectly tanned under the SoCal sun and governed by Give Me Moore's Law: every decade the cup size doubles. Forget C++, D++ is the minimum standard for the red carpet. Welcome to Hollywood folks.



The Hotel Covell is the kind of Made for Instagram establishment that doesn't have mere rooms, it has chapters. Nominally each chapter has some kind of convoluted backstory that explains the decor and curated collection of vintage furniture pieces, but let's face it, the only real backstory is that hipsters will pay exorbitant prices for a motel room as long as you plonk some vinyls and a turntable in the living room and a Stumptown cold brew in the minibar.



In case of emergency break glass and eat ice cream.



Why build a hotel when you can build, ahem, curate, an entire hipster commune, complete with courtyard strung with Edison bulbs, an onsite cafe, hole-in-the-wall taqueria, speakeasy wine bar, and vintage ice cream parlor.


Definitely on the Left Coast, can't go five feet without running into a tree-hugger.



Kismet, the hottest new restaurant opening of the spring, is imported straight from - wait for it - Brooklyn. Makes you wonder why it was necessary to drag a 15 month old across the country instead of hopping over the East River.



Daddy, you may need to teach me to shave earlier than expected.



So which chapter are we staying in tonight Daddy? How about Go, Dogs, Go? Who doesn't want to climb a giant yellow ladder to bed?



Your three words for today son, repeat after me: Flat. White. Mate.



Roll out of bed and the breakfast tacos are right downstairs. Since going anywhere in LA requires a minimum of 45 minutes fuming in traffic it makes sense to pack all the hipster essentials into one complex. That's the same rationalization Rock used as he pulled the outrageously-priced Stumptown cold brew out of the minibar.



You know you've hit the big time when you type "the Williamsburg of..." into Google and your burb comes up. Silver Lake, welcome to the League of Extraordinary Gentrification.


So the opposite of his fencing career?



Sunset Junction, the kind of intersection that America was built on. Polish the chrome, slick back the hair, grab a penny soda, and make this country great again... by opening a flagship Intelligentsia coffee roaster? Not exactly what the President had in mind, we aren't ditching the Paris Accord so that Tesla-driving liberals can sip single-origin cold brews in a shop whose name is an antonym of covefefe.



Mommy, why don't I see any of that cheese I like that comes in perfect yellow squares? Because putting Kraft in the artisanal cheese shop is like putting Donald Trump in, well, the Oval Office.



If Silver Lake is the Williamsburg of LA then Echo Park is its Brushwick, a grungy section of town rapidly gentrifying around its eponymous lake. Son, you see that tree up there? Well property prices are about to go way up high, even higher than that tall, tall tree.



I don't always drink milk, but when I do it's out of a Pabst Blue Ribbon can. Stay thirsty my friends.



Gentrification is hard work, time to chillax on the Hotel Covell roof deck.



You're quick learner: one flat white coming right up. Mate.


Camera pans back as heroes ride off into the sunset. John Williams score swells to crescendo. Roll end credits. Do not even think about making a fourth installment. Just because you can CGI a crystal skull does not mean you should.


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