There is nothing quite like Hollywood Boulevard on a Saturday night. Every instance where I have somehow ended up there, I have sworn to never go back. Yet, I always seem to forget.
I was early for a movie…which was my motive behind going. To get a taste of the last monument theatre I have yet to experience, El Capitan. And, it was Hollywood…in a sense.
They weren’t going to let me in for at least 35 minutes, so I decided to sit out on the boulevard, perched between the giant white pillars of what I could only imagine were the business offices of the theatre.
And I watched…
Fights. Breakdancers. Men of God. The Hot Dog Lady. Foreigners. Locals. Friends. Elvis. Spider Man. Marilyn Monroe. Gays. Straights. Transvestites. Brothers. Sisters. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Traffic…and two guys with a 30-inch pizza on their way back to the Star Wars line.
A man posted up on the column next to me. His dingy clothes, discolored beard, and slight case of the shakes told me he had nowhere to go. He was stuck on Hollywood Boulevard. I began to wonder if this was the place he called home. If for some reason he ventured out of this state or country, would this be the place he longed for?
I knew something about Ben (as I would quickly come to refer to him in my mind) was going to be so tragic…so disappointing.
He jumped up next to me and offered a cigarette, which I gladly accepted…even though I don’t smoke. His body, skin and soul had been pleasantly weathered by life. I craved to know what his eyes had seen…to know what his heart had felt…
So I asked.
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he simply nodded his head, referring to the crowd passing in front of us. He turned with a glare that I will never forget. Those shining eyes. He smiled with this assurance, as if knowing the secrets to all things. At that moment, he took my hand, pouring half a handful of what looked to be black sand…shining under the marquee like a thousand small diamonds. Though, it was weightless. Honestly and certainly the most beautiful thing I had ever seen…
Until he reached his hand in front of his lips, blowing ever so slightly. I did the same. The sand flew off into the air. The particles…bombarded by the adrenaline of endless lights, shone like a flurry of prisms…dancing in between the buildings on this small block of Hollywood Boulevard. It was such a sight, I had to stand. Ben watched me and followed…as if he had been keeping a secret all his life, and finally had the opportunity to tell someone.
But something funny happened…
No one noticed. No one looked to the street. They didn’t bother looking to the sky. Or, maybe they did…but just couldn’t see. I wanted to scream, to tell them they were missing the moment of their lives…but I knew it would be no use. Instead, I looked to Ben…and all I could do was smile. He patted me on the shoulder and jumped off the pillar, floating down the street with his head lowered…hands in pockets. And, he was gone.
Sirens from a fire engine rolled through. Screaming. An intermission to the show that is Hollywood Boulevard. When I looked to my left, Ben was now talking to himself. The cigarette he was smoking was no longer lit. His shakes had reached their pinnacle.
I took his name away. There was no longer any chance that he could be the person I hoped he would be. It’s not exactly heartbreaking, but if you add up a thousand small tragedies, well…it eventually adds up. And that’s what it was…slightly tragic.
And that worries me. What if I never meet Ben? Or find the 612 other variables I hope to encounter in this lifetime? What if I am continually creating something in my mind that has no chance to be anything other than tragic? Because, after all…what in the world can ever match up…
With the strangers I yearn to meet?
The lovers I look to fall for?
The life I hope to live?
But…I try not to dwell on stuff like that. The theatre doors had finally opened. I had no choice but to go in.
At the end of the night, I swore to never return to Hollywood Boulevard. And, I knew right then…that would be one of those promises I fail to keep for the rest of my life.
And something tells me I’ll be better because of it.
