When in Rome

My parents loved films from the Hollywood Golden Age and I grew up watching a lot of movies from this era.  Bill Collins, the Australian film enthusiast and host of ‘The Golden Years of Hollywood’, was a regular Saturday night fixture on our TV screens as he introduced viewers to classic after classic.

Mum and I shared a mutual appreciation of great actresses – our fondness for Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Lauren Bacall, Audrey Hepburn and Vivien Leigh to name a few.  My admiration of female acting talent continues to the present day of course (Kate Winslet, Meryl Streep, Judi Dench, Julianne Moore, Naomi Watts to list a handful).

I was a kid when I first saw the 1940s film: ‘Mildred Pierce’ starring Joan Crawford.  I’ve seen it several times since and when Kate Winslet and Guy Pearce came together for the HBO remake I was excited beyond belief (and not disappointed with its result).

But there’s something special about an original – especially a film you’ve loved from your childhood (Wizard of Oz/Grease/Oliver anyone?).

There’s a memorable scene in Mildred Pierce, which is set during the Great Depression, where Mildred spends her day pounding the pavement looking for work. Mildred’s despair and desperation at her dire predicament is clear.  

Digress to Julie Andrews in ‘Victor Victoria’ (also set in the 1930s) when her character is so skint she tries the ‘cockroach in my salad’ approach to skip on paying for dinner (from memory it doesn’t work and she ends up having to wash the dishes).

Such scenes stick – intelligent, talented and capable women who are thrown to the curb but inevitably make their way out.

I’ve been on the job hunt in Los Angeles for a month now.  

Most of my days are spent on the professional networking site Linkedin.  I've built more than 1500 contacts through this channel and with each valuable ‘connection’ I'll personalise a message that relates to my job search.

I’ve met a handful of PR people and continue to schedule meetings through Linkedin but there comes a point when it’s time to branch out and try other means.

My roomie (flatmate) has been saying for a while now that I should just 'show up' (something I’ve resisted because ‘showing up’ at company offices unsolicited is not the way it’s done in Australia).

But when a Melbourne friend and mentor who has spent a lot of time in LA repeated the same mantra, I decided it was time to channel my inner Mildred. 

And what comes of Mildred and her door-to-door job search?  

After an exhaustive day of endless rejection and subsequent blistered feet, Mildred takes respite in a coffee shop.

And it is here where she hadn’t been looking, that she finds work.

Photo: A scene from Mildred Pierce, in Mildred's restaurant.

Lean on me

Moving the other side of the world without a job and limited savings pool means one has to get savvy smart.

It also means I’ve had to drop my guard and lean on others – the most interesting observation I’ve made of myself since being in LA.

It's a tough city and not everyone is dependable, certainly not everyone follows through on what they say they will. 

LA geographically is an urban sprawl and without a car almost impossible to get around. So this was the first step – hire a car. But of course, renting anything doesn’t come cheap thus my second step: buy a car.

This is where my roommate, Rane, lent a hand.  She introduced me to her neighbour who trades cars.  Now Darrell is on the search for me but we’re still looking and I’m still paying a hefty car rental.

Rane has lived in LA for a number of years and rents two places – one in West Hollywood (WeHo) and the other in the upmarket beach precinct Marina Del Rey (next to Venice). We met through airbnb.

She and I share similar values and the match is working well.  Rane lived in Rishikesh for 18mths on an ashram – so we also have the ‘India’ connection. 

Part of my India adventure was to strip it back.  I wanted to shed the skin of my comfortable middle class existence and go back to basics.  India indeed achieved this.  It felt like I was the 21 year old European backpacker again – but even edgier – backpacking with streets full of cow shit!

On arrival in LA I was adequately indifferent to life’s luxuries that I could comfortably do dorm mates again.  Rane and I share the same room in her Marina Del Rey studio apartment – an unthinkable proposition to me before my Indian travels.

But when one’s been through that country and seen how ‘the other half lives’ as well with no real projection as to when my PR career will take off here – it’s amazing how little things like one’s own room and personal space become value-add over necessity.

It’s the rude awakening that I can’t be as independent as I was in Oz nor would like to be.  

Unlike my modus operandi of happily functioning solo - I need people.  And revealing your vulnerability is a tricky position to be in anywhere let alone a city as cut throat as LA.

It’s a difficult transition and an eye-opening life turn but another reason I chose to roll this dice and jump out from the comfort zone.

Man was not made for himself alone - Plato

Americans love to sit at the bar – or in a diner setting, the counter.

I resisted waiters directing me here for a while and requested my place at the table, but these days I just let them perch me where the bench top is too high and the bar stool uncomfortable. 

Even couples choose the bar over a table to eat their meals and it made me wonder what this counter culture was about.

Americans on par are a friendly bunch and my take is they don’t want people to feel lonely. Talking and being sociable comes naturally to them and it would seem they just want to be around others in the dining setting than by themselves.

I asked my room mate in Seattle whether she had an explanation for it.  Sasha said she prefers to sit at the bar when dining solo as people can freely approach her for a chat. It's a comfortable social setting for her and she thinks the majority of Americans share this view.

This style of dining is something I've had to get used to because unlike Americans, I’m used to my seat at the table.  It's where I'm not side by side with strangers inviting awkward small talk, I’m not under the barman’s armpit or across from the chef’s flame, and I can sit back and quietly contemplate whatever I want on my own in relative peace.  

But then, that’s partly why this country’s culture appeals.  I came here to break out of my comfort zone and widen my social circle for new opportunities to open up.

And in America, like the '80s TV sitcom, Cheers, it seems making new friends and acquainting with tomorrow's lovers, starts at the bar.