It’s been a little over six years since I
moved from Southern California to Texas to be with my wife and to start
our life together. I had been in LA since 1985; as big of a transition
as it was from the east coast (and how hard it was for me to make
friends in the first 7 years), it still became home. I began based off
my Aunt and Uncle’s world on the west side and then spent 7 years in
Hollywood before moving into the Santa Monica mountains for the last
five years. LA is such a fabrication, a play of light for others to
make money off the rubes of the universe, a place for the pretty and
the naieve to become used up and jaded. It still became home.
I was just as seduced as anyone when I first arrived
with adult eyes, palm trees and pretty girls groomed for leering made
it easy to pack my two soft bags and turn my back on the cold elements
of Boston. I never got the carrot that was originally swung in front of
me but I didn’t care. I wandered into the entertainment business,
originally doing studio cartage for local musicans, delivering their
equipment, setting it up and returning it back to the warehouse after
the recording sessions were over.
It was a small company, the owner and I working
together 70 to 90 hours a week, driving the streets of LA County
sometimes as much as 300 miles a day without crossing into Ventura or
Orange. Whether it was one song for Madonna that had us waiting for
hours on a friday night to go home or the clockwork 4 hour session of a
TV scoring date, we drove around the studios finding alternate routes
in order to make up lost time. It was a great way to learn the
A year later I was asked by an aquaintance if I
would be interested in working for a jazz guitar player who was going
on the road. I wanted to tour and said yes. I was off to Japan for the
first time and I’ve never really looked back. This summer will be the
20th one I’ve spent on the road. I’ve had the chance to see a lot of
places around the world. I now return to Texas but I became aware this
weekend that LA really became a home for me.
For work it’s an obvious choice; there are few
places where an out of work roadie can find pick up jobs that will not
scar your employment record. New York is good but a bit closed, really
expensive and a nicer place to visit than to live. Nashville is…,
well, Nashville. I’m probably just not tied in enough there to have a
true sense of what’s available.
LA was home; there is family, friends and history
there; and, to be quite honest even with all the drawbacks of living
there I like it! The main thing I noticed while I was there was the
connected feeling I had to other people. I’m sure if I was back the
novelty of my presence would wear off quick but it is nice to know that
there are people who care nearby.

Bitterman bite:

LAX airport is a drag for its security
checkpoint layout. The single-terminal-
entrance-cattle-shoot-please-someone-shoot-a-bolt-through-my-head set
up just doesn’t work for me. I prefer the DFW multiple port per
terminal, smaller lines approach. I know there’s nothing that can be
done because of the design of the building but come on.
I just experienced the GE skirt lifter air puff trap
at the San Diego airport… very ’70’s movie vibe…I’m gonna research
what that one is all about as it’s a new one on me…


As I’ve mentioned before, this re-entry into
writing for me has been since my discovery of podcasting. I’m
formulating a format to work with and have some strong ideas as where I
want it to go. I know some characters that can talk a blue streak and
often work with them at odd hours of the day. Much more detail may lead
to theft of my goofy idea, not that I care as it’s not a money idea.