2 Hours in Venice Beach

Hey Gang! Here’s a lil' something about Venice Beach. My phone was on its last leg and it had a battery that

lost its charge faster than you could say, “Damn this phone sucks”. There are not as many photos as I would’ve

liked but thems the breaks. Enjoy!

The amount of time I’ve spent in Los Angeles is criminally low. I don’t know why, I guess I just haven’t had many reasons to go. Most likely it’s because it is an intimidating city to visit. I’m from Chicago which is a city made up of neighborhoods. Los Angeles is a city made up of cities and it goes on forever. For example, when I found out I was going, I contacted my friend Derrick Brown who offered to let me stay at his place. He stayed in Burbank and hanging out in an actual neighborhood seemed like a great way to experience the city. It seemed that way until I learned it would take about an hour and a half in a $100 Lyft to get there

Dearest reader, I am nothing if not cheap so when the client I was working for offered to book me a hotel room next to LAX, I snagged that shit. A free hotel room is always nice but sticking around an airport usually blows unless you like eating all your meals at a McDonald’s or an Applebee’s if you’re feeling fancy.

Comforting

After wasting an embarrassing amount of time trying to find the airport shuttle, I arrived at my hotel around 5 pm. I had less than a day to try and see something. Shit, I had less than an afternoon and I needed to go to bed early. I had to be up around 6 am to take a group of high school kids on a college tour starting in LA and ending in San Francisco. If I was going to explore, I had to go to whatever was nearby. Luckily, LAX is close to the coast. I scanned the map and just north of my hotel was Venice Beach. This was perfect because I grew up seeing Venice Beach in countless movies, television shows, and skateboard videos. I unpacked, changed, and charged my phone with just enough juice to grab a Lyft.

My ride dropped me off under the Venice sign hanging between Windward Ave buildings. From there I could see giant palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze that slapped me in the face. My initial urge was to go directly to the beach and wade into the Pacific Ocean. Since the ocean wasn’t going anywhere, I tended to a more primal urge: hunger. There are tons of bad food options around Venice Beach. It has a bit of a carnival vibe so if you’re into corn dogs and nachos, they have you covered. I did a little bit of research on my way (I used Yelp) and decided I would eat at Teddy’s Red Tacos. 

Behold...birria!

Teddy’s sells Tijuana-style beef birria tacos. Birria is shredded beef that has been slow-cooked overnight in a spicy red broth aka consumẻ. They fill tortillas with this magical meat and then dunk it in the consumẻ, giving them a reddish hue. I opted for the “Deluxe Plate” with a taco, a mulita, a quesadilla, a tostada, extra broth for dipping, and some chips. For $15, it was a steal. I was lucky to place my order and find a table outside before a group of a dozen or so tourists came in and asked about each and every item on the menu, oblivious to the line stretching out behind them.

The late July sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon but it was still hot. I nursed an ice-cold Mexican Coca-Cola while waiting for my feast. When it arrived, I did not know where to start. It was a lot of food and as usual, I thought, “There’s no way I’m going to finish all this.”

I went right for the tostada topped with a generous helping of onion and cilantro. I scooped some of the consumẻ on it and that was game over. So fucking good. The rest of the meal followed suit. Super tasty and spicy but I’m a wimp who does not handle spice that well so you may feel different.

Properly fed, I struck out onto the legendary Venice Beach Boardwalk. Venice Beach was often portrayed as a rougher beach town full of graffiti, low riders, and skateboard thugs. I didn’t see many thugs but I did see a lot of dudes who looked like they were on their way to audition for a Sublime cover band or meet their parole officer. Scantily clad men and women roller skated between slow-walking tourists on their way to a patch of sand to get very high on. Couples perused items from small shops selling sunglasses and booty shorts with “Thic-Fil-A” printed across the butt. 

I decided to work off my meal with a bunch of reps at Muscle Beach. I didn’t, but I did walk past Muscle Beach and I was pleased to see it was as ridiculous as it seemed in movies. There were a few enormous dudes in neon shirts cut to show off their muscles on top of muscles. One guy with a sick bleached blonde ponytail was rocking a crop top to show off a tribal sun tattoo that encircled his belly button. He must’ve been at least 60 years old but he was so buff he made me feel bad about all the birria I had just eaten.

Jerry Garcia RIP

I most closely associate Venice Beach with skateboarding. The nearby Dogtown locals invented modern skateboard culture. An area known as the Pit was the setting for innumerable skate video parts. The Pit looked like a concrete bunker with every square inch covered with graffiti. Christian Hosoi could be seen doing Christ Airs off of launch ramps. The cinematic masterpiece Thrashin’ was filmed there too.

Unfortunately, if you want to skate the Pit you’ll have to do so on Tony Hawk Pro Skater. The pavilion area that housed the Pit was torn down in 2000. Luckily, skateboards are still everywhere thanks to the Venice Beach Skatepark that took its place. I did not bring my skateboard because no one wants to see a middle-aged man doing slappy noseslides on a curb and I didn’t want to start shit with any Daggers.

Though I wasn’t skating, I still needed to get a T-shirt from a local skate shop. Venice Skateboarding is right on the boardwalk and caters to the casual skateboarder with plenty of longboards and Thrasher T-shirts. They did have a shirt with a cartoon woman in a bikini skating the Venice Beach skatepark so I picked it up.

Venice Beach can be overwhelming with the tourists and local kooks fighting each other and all. That’s when you head to the water. I don’t mean to sound stupid when I say this but the beach is big. Sure it stretches out infinitely north and south but the walk from the boardwalk to the ocean is enough to make your calves curse you out.

The bright side of a long walk is the noise of the boardwalk being gradually replaced by the waves crashing onto the shore. I didn’t bring a bathing suit so I rolled up my pant legs and waded into the surf. Why did I wear pants to the beach? It’s one of nature’s mysteries I guess. It was 8 pm and the beach was still full of people. It wasn’t packed the way it would be on a weekend, but I saw plenty of folks who looked like they just got off work drinking hard seltzers and talking shit about their bosses.

With the sun dropping ever closer to the horizon, I could imagine myself moving to Southern California. The ocean waves breaking on the shore. The sand crunching beneath my feet. The breeze making all this heat bearable. Who wouldn’t want to see this every day? Then I realized how much meth I’d have to sell to afford to live anywhere near the beach and the dream melted like the snow cone I almost stepped in on my way to catch a Lyft back to the hotel before my phone died.

Would I go Back?

To Los Angeles? Most definitely. I’ve barely scratched the surface of LA and I have yet to be in the studio audience for a filming of “The Price is Right”. 

To Venice Beach? Sure. Am I going to rush back to Venice Beach? Probably not but that’s mostly because there are so many other neighborhoods to check out. I would go along if I was with folks who were dying to go

Avoid

Eye contact with the local kooks. Also the Daggers.