Kristina's primary reason for being in L.A. was to moderate a panel at the Billboard/Hollywood Reporter Film & TV Conference at the Beverly Hilton in Beverly Hills—my girl's kind of neighborhood. Picked her up in the late afternoon... where we
finally took pics together, standing at the corner of a maddeningly busy intersection.
After a quick change at the hotel, we grabbed dinner and then headed to House of Blues on Sunset as guests of Jonathan McHugh—one of her panelists and a chief source for the last cover story I wrote for Billboard late last year. The band, Umphreys McGee... (yeah, I know, I was convinced the "H" dropped off the marquis) is an indie, but man, do they have a rabid following. Hard rock from six fairly geeky 30-somethings... but one of the tightest outfits I've heard in years. These guys interact musically like sex. Truly wondrous.... as was House of Blues, an inspired design of goth meets Middle Eastern.
Parking was tight on Sunset, and we drove around in circles for a good 20 minutes‚including a steep hill working our way into the Hollywood Hills, which challenged the poor little Chevy Peanut... we ended up parking in a public lot... which we then couldn't find when we left HOB (no, dear, no alcohol involved; I was driving, cool cats)... when we finally found the place at 12:15, we saw that the gate was locked at 12:30 a.m. Just 15 more minutes and we'd have been so completely fucked. Altogether now: Phew, dude.
After a quick change at the hotel, we grabbed dinner and then headed to House of Blues on Sunset as guests of Jonathan McHugh—one of her panelists and a chief source for the last cover story I wrote for Billboard late last year. The band, Umphreys McGee... (yeah, I know, I was convinced the "H" dropped off the marquis) is an indie, but man, do they have a rabid following. Hard rock from six fairly geeky 30-somethings... but one of the tightest outfits I've heard in years. These guys interact musically like sex. Truly wondrous.... as was House of Blues, an inspired design of goth meets Middle Eastern.
Parking was tight on Sunset, and we drove around in circles for a good 20 minutes‚including a steep hill working our way into the Hollywood Hills, which challenged the poor little Chevy Peanut... we ended up parking in a public lot... which we then couldn't find when we left HOB (no, dear, no alcohol involved; I was driving, cool cats)... when we finally found the place at 12:15, we saw that the gate was locked at 12:30 a.m. Just 15 more minutes and we'd have been so completely fucked. Altogether now: Phew, dude.
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