Amoeba
Yesterday, I took Ben (Stacey's brother, who's been vacationin' and staying with us) to Amoeba Music on Sunset. I had never been there before, but its reputation as a bottomless well of new and used music in a mind-boggling array of formats preceded it.
Cool store, and I bought a lot of CDs, but here's the thing — I'm only about one-third cool enough to enter. You can't swing a dead cat in that place without hitting a half-dozen bona fide hipsters. It would almost have made me feel better if there was a little cut-out guy made of plywood at the door who holds a finger at about shoulder height and has a word balloon that says, "You must be this cool to enter."
Sometime during the span where we managed to totally lose each other for about half an hour, Ben identified and chatted with one of the guys from Rage Against the Machine — a good cap to the Los Angeles week, I imagine.
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