The 2011 Abbot Kinney Festival!

This year's Abbot Kinney Festival started out extra gloomy and misty, one of those lazy Sundays where it's hard to get out of bed. That is, until the bikes started noisily swooping by outside, bright and early, on Venice Boulevard for a Triathalon, that some planners somewhere thought would be a good idea to hold the same day as the Abbot Kinney Festival. Anyway, it got us up.


After some stiff coffee to get us ready and jazzed for the day's festivities, it was off to Abbot Kinney. No one in Venice lets a little grey dampen the spirits for our Festival, so the place was already packed by 11 a.m. The booths (amazing jewelry, as ever. Lots of feather stuff too. And always the wings for kids - and some adults) seemed to be doing a brisk business - and they mostly seemed to be actually hand-made, artisan type stuff this year, a vast improvement over some of the junk stands of years past - as I made my way past them all to take my shift at The Free Venice Beachhead booth.


It's always nice to hang out in one spot for a bit at the Festival, to really watch the people and take it all in. It's nice to hear from readers of our only truly local paper, about their concerns, ideas, stories, and drinking in the afternoon commentaries. A few neighbors even offered cocktail delivery services right to the booth ... but then forgot to return with them, sigh. We handed out copies of the latest issue and had fresh t-shirts for sale, with my long asked for design of "DEFEND VENICE" graphic with a guy in a tree with his fist raised. Love it. You should get one. Oh, and you can by contacting the paper at www.freevenice.org. There were also some surveys to fill out that proved to be interesting, with telling results (about topics ranging from where you get your coffee to who you're gonna vote for next year) also in the paper or online.

I served my booth time and then it was off to explore with my gang. I've said it before, but the Abbot Kinney Festival is like Thanksgiving for the whole town of Venice - you see people you may not have seen all year, and it's a big reunion in the street. Plus tens of thousands Thanksgiving orphan tourists that come to hope to see something outrageous, and eat food. And drink beer in the sunshine, that I am happy to report broke through brightly right about midday.

(Pictured - Mia Doi Todd. Silver Lake, I believe)

One strange and mystifying thing about this year's Festival was that not ONE of my close friends was playing music at ANY of the stages. THAT is outrageous. It was slim last year, but as far as I could tell this year, there did not seem to be any local VENICE musical acts playing for their friends and neighbors. None. Whomever is in charge of music booking needs to really take that into account in the future because it was the overwhelming and resounding complaint coming from every person I bumped into that day, that WHERE were our local musicians at our local Festival?! I'd say I was really mad about it, but it's hard to be actually mad about anything when everyone's having a good time seeing everyone you like where you live. But still. May I please help book the stages next year? Thanks.


The Abbot Kinney Festival is one of the best people watching events of the planet, and from one end to the other it's an entire smorgasbord of people and stuff to gape at.


I love it when the Samba School splits the crowd to dance and bang drums among the people walking the street, and everyone stands back to watch and smile and FEEL the spirit of community and fun that pervades that special moment every year.


People were hanging out of the windows above Abbot's Habit to watch, the Firemen of Station 63 were clapping along (and no porn actresses were spotted hanging from the truck this day, I'm happy to report to knowers of recent Venice lore), tiny kids were showing off their capoeira skills, and the whole crowd was supremely into it.


After doing some laps of the street (and having no bands we were absolutely required to see due to friendship or support of our local artists), we went up to our friend's balcony that overlooks the entire hubbub of the Brig beer garden. Again, the greatest people watching ever.


This year there were dueling dancers outside the fence, a big Red Devil carrying a sign ("The Devil Repents!") and a cowboy in short shorts that was FEELING it.


And feeling it. For song after song (from the really good reggae d.j. spinning in the Brig lot). After song. We admired his stamina. And the way more and more (drinking) strangers would step in to dance with him. Good good times.


Right around 6 p.m. the fog started to return, the autumn light began its getting darker earlier thing, and that annual mass clearing of the people began at the Venice Boulevard end of Abbot Kinney, heading down toward Main Street. It's amazing to see how quickly it all evaporates, with the whoosh of street cleaners rolling by, the clanking of tent poles falling down, and slurry speech of passersby yelling to each other getting fainter and fainter by the minute. Soon enough it's all over again for the year, and everyone winds up collapsing at someone's nearby pad, re-hashing the day's events and looking ahead to all the good stuff that will go down between now and the re-telling of it to the friends you'll see at next year's jamboree.


Let's make it good!

Abbot Kinney Festival 2010 - Good Vibrations!

Abbot Kinney Festival day always feels like a real holiday in Venice. That crackling, electric buzz in the air, some traditional stuff that happens every year, and that rushing into the arms of old, familiar faces that all go along with true holidays.

As I exited a walk street to turn towards Abbot Kinney last Sunday, I felt that holiday excitement. Then I heard a band opening up with the intro to the Beach Boys' Good Vibrations and smiled to myself. What better way to meet the Festival that my friends and I liken to "Venice Christmas"? The good vibrations were everywhere, and it was all happening under a blazing sun that hadn't made an appearance the entire Summer 2010. The day was charmed.


Booths lined each side of the Boulevard, with artisans and organizations selling their wares or ideas. Hand cast belt buckles, sparkly wings for little kids, and wood carved signs saying stuff like "Surf Shack" seemed to be big sellers ... and made by real live locals, not factories, ahem.


Though I heard a few stories about mega-disorganization during the set-up process, it was all smooth sailing once the whole thing was underway. Everyone seemed to be in a great mood, and everyone I saw was looking good, too. The Festival always brings out the best outfits, again, like a real holiday.


I went to see Matt Ellis's band play, and they were great. So were the Superbroke Orchestra folks playing over at the Kid's Quad. The drag was that I saw a whole bunch of my other VENICE musician friends, not playing, but in the audience. Most every year I have a hard time planning my musical stops at the Festival, as so many bands I know are playing that they tend to overlap. Not so this year. I'm not sure who is in charge of the music, but I kept hearing "It's political", which I hate to hear when it comes to local bands playing a local festival. It was real DJ heavy, which is fine if they're good, but nothing beats a good, local, live band, playing under a blazing sun with their sweaty fan friends raising their glasses and singing along. Whomever books this day for bands ... let's talk for next year.


Another weird thing (and then I'm done, as I wholly loved the Festival otherwise) was this year's poster, and the fact that the Abbot Kinney.org people went with some downtown event planner getup, when this place is teeming with creative types. Artists, graphic designers, party planners, bands ... why look any elsewhere?! Pardon, but a third grader could have done the data entry on this year's boredom of a poster (and perhaps did. Sorry, kid.). I know people who collect those posters, as most times they are stunning, and done by someone we know and love. This year's probably won't sell out.


Digression over. There were well-used bike valets this year, which I love to see. The food trucks were minimal (you know First Fridays has gotten out of hand when the annual Street Festival seems more in control). There were long lines at all the local watering holes. A spontaneous Rio Carnival type drum line went down the middle of the street at one point, and got everyone yelling and clapping along.


The Spirit Of Venice awards were given out to Jesse Martinez (looking very beat up - what happened?!), Earl Newman (creator of what SHOULD have been the Festival poster this year. Note: though the AK.org site says the "Official" poster is Newman's gem, it was seen hardly anywhere but on the side of The Brig), LAFD Inspector Mike Neeley, and LAPD Officer Heidi Llewes. Tough guys mingled with baby stroller pushers. The Trim stylists looked all hot and cut hair in the street. One wise looking man walked around with a handmade "LOVE" sign hanging from his neck. Outlandish costumes competed with gals wearing almost nothing for attention. As every good festival should have, there was the guy with a parrot on his shoulder.


I spent a chunk of the afternoon chilling on the shady side of the street at The Free Venice Beachhead booth. I got to meet all sorts of the cool readers of the paper, who to a person, had only positive and encouraging things to say about how we feel about our Community, and where we want it to go (Cityhood is looking good, if people put their money/actions where their mouths are!). There were some good debates, as well as constant hugs and high fives, from people who sometimes you ONLY see on this day of the year. Like Thanksgiving or something (See? We really should make it an official holiday ... maybe once we're our own city that'll get enacted ...).


Wrapping up my booth shift, I headed over to my friends' house that overlooks The Brig. The PACKED Brig, which had been turned into an outdoor dance floor. It was sociologically fascinating to watch the spectacle. A clear vinyl fence had been installed, so you could see into the whole throbbing dance floor, but not one person waiting in line on the other side was dancing. Like we've been trained as humans so much by societal rules/norms, that dancing is only allowed on one side of a fence, though you can hear the same music and see people one inch from you, breaking it down. We danced and waved our arms from the balcony we were perched on, to try and get a little anarchic dancing going, and it did work a little. C'mon everybody! Be FREE!


Then BOOM! 6:00 p.m. on the dot, giant trucks began doing a sweep of the street, with the cops following along behind to lasso any stragglers. The dance party was over. Clean up and dismantling began right then and there, and it was up to you to keep the party going on your own. Not a problem. My friend then told me that when they left the house that morning, they'd heard a band playing Good Vibrations, and how it had felt so perfect for the day. "ME TOO!" I exclaimed, and concurred. And really, underneath it all (and the "it all" part of Venice is vast, I'm well aware), that IS what we try to be about and spread in our little area of the Earth. PLUS, a bunch of fine organizations (see AbbotKinney.org for list) will be given grants from the money brought in by the Festival. MORE good.

Good Vibrations, Man. So let's try to remember that, shall we, and keep it going all year long, not just on the holidays. Drink 'em up!




*Photos by me and Jennifer Everhart.

Abbot Kinney Street Festival 2009!

Last Sunday was the Abbot Kinney Street Festival, or as we like to call it, Venice Christmas. Homecoming is probably more apt, as you see everyone from town, people that used to live in Venice, people that haven't been to the beach since last Street Fair, and best of all, your friends and family that have a great excuse to go nuts all day.

It was all socked in with fog for much of the day, but rather than be a drag, it was kind of nice to not be squeezed in with thousands of sweaty people that have been drinking in the sun all day. Instead, it was perfectly temperate, both weather and mood-wise.

I began the day with a big Vikings victory - and some hair of the dog mimosas at the Minnesota contingent on Victoria's pad. Then to the annual Blast Off to the Festival at the most gracious host and hostess ever, The Everhart's, perfect eye-view balcony for still more mimosas and treats. My Bikini Team started out the day in fine fashion and frolic:
They really do have the best location on the block for Street Fair - right across from The Brig stage, optimum people watching. I saw a man in an Eagle costume dancing, and his enthusiasm was to infect us for the whole day. I dug his dance style too.
We saw a few bands from our fresh roost, including pal, Peter Goetz, and his crew grooving up the passers-by with their surf-style rock.
The danger of such decadence and fun with friends, is that you can end up staying too long and missing out on the Festival. We did stay until the champagne ran dry ... and then it was out into the on-ramp of the flow. You couldn't walk three feet without seeing a friendly face you knew - or meeting one you didn't. The booths seemed to be more home-made and cool stuff than in recent years, especially my homegirl Denise's badass belt buckle booth (Denise Saffren Belt Buckles) - this year with an actual grass table to lure in the masses in.
Check out her new one, "Legalize It". I think it should be a big hit with the local crowd. And that led us into The Green House Smoke Shop to greet our familia there on our favorite holiday.
I was sporting my Abbot Kinney shirt from Firefly all day, and it was a big hit. Though an Australian friend wondered why I was wearing a t-shirt of Ned Kelly. He also said, and I think this might've summed up the entire day/experience/town - "Everyone is so colorful in Venice."
I stopped by to check out Erinn and the Firefly ladies - stunning as ever. You do almost wish the Festival was a couple day thing, as there are too many people to talk to, too many things to see, bands at opposite ends of the boulevard so you have to make choices, and I always just enjoy more of a good thing.

The lines were crazy long for the food vendor booths, so Steph and I threw down some good ol' Glencrest BBQ for our survival needs, before heading to meet up with our Little Radio gang at the Brooks end of the hoopla. Hula Hoopla, if you asked the kids.

All the worlds collided down there - it seemed that EVERYONE smushed down to that end for the highly anticipated closing act of Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. And for good reason. They put on a SHOW.
The energy they riled up in the crowd (many of whom knew each and every word, as well as where to fast-clap, etc..) was so peace and love, and perfect for the day, I actually had a lump in my throat as I scanned around at all the smiling faces. This little baby right next to me was simply amazed by it all:
I think his eyes popped like that when Edward Sharpe's shirt came off. But it might have been because the band is so full of life - and instruments. I said pre-show to Mrs. Little Radio, Christina Conway, "It seems like everyone we know knows someone in this band" and she said, "That's cause there's like 10 people in it." She ain't lying. There's about three guitars, a bass, a pretty accordian girl, Edward Sharpe shaman-ing about (he's like a cross between Devendra Banhart, Wayne Coyne, and The Polyphonic Spree guy - with a samurai top-knot), a girl he looks at lovingly while he sings with her (actually, the entire band looks at each other affectionately while they play - and it's infectious), a drummer, a couple of people on shakers and other percussion, a horn player, and who knows whom else sneaking around, but the parts make up a beautiful whole. The voices mesh beautifully, and the instruments - especially that horn - made it feel so super celebratory. I said to Steph, "Do you think they all live in Silver Lake?" She answered only, "Yes."
My favorite of their all crowd-pleasing tunes was "Home". The whole attendance of the Festival was clapping along it seemed, and I would not have been the least bit surprised if it had broken out into musical-like dancing as one down the street into the sunset. Up With People!! That's what it felt like. "Home is wherever there is you!" Exactly.

It was sort of a stage in the square, as revelers surrounded the stage on all sides. It was a sense of total community, and a celebration of exactly that. I must insist that you check out ESATMZ's as soon as you possibly can. They're about to blow UP, and you should be in on it.

Despite the happy crowd's begging and clapping, and it seeming like it was about to work - the Fire Marshall stepped in and said, "Thank you for coming, see you next year." Not even one more little short song ... Sticklers. Little Radio was having a big old After Party, tons of friends were heading in different directions (me and mine were headed directly to the home of our friend Jeffrey, who had Chef Mikey Wilson grilling up eyes-rolling back delights up on the roof), and as you walked or rode (which I hope you did) through the neighborhoods, you could hear music and laughter drifting out across pockets of the whole town. Magical. Once again, why we live here.

Late night, stuffed and satisfied, we rode our bikes back home down the still closed-off Abbot Kinney Boulevard (I actually like the idea of it always being closed off, like a power Walk Street). The dismantling of another special day was in full effect, with clanging poles, direction shouting and garbage trucks moving in as the soundtrack now. Even the cops were all smiles this evening ... hey, no shootings this year! I didn't even hear of any fights! Gold Stars for everyone!! I commended the Officers on a job well done, and it seemed like they weren't sure if I was being a smart alec or not, but I wasn't. Peaceful coexistence ... one day at a time! I love it. And I love being a part of a neighborhood that above all else, knows how to celebrate itself and its inhabitants.

Up with People! UP WITH VENICE!! Dig.