14 Gen X Gatekeepers in Southern California
If you graduated high school in the 1980’s, here’s a hack listicle extolling fourteen essential cultural flashpoints you needed to experience or witness at least once to legitimately become part of Southern California’s native pantheon. We’re going to go ahead and skip the obvious tent poles like visiting Disneyland (though we are going to include something that must be done within the park). We’re talking born and bred stuff, a small selection of grungy, down and dirty, locals only, In n’ Out secret menu kinda stuff, courtesy of your pals at The Last Days of Generation X.
San Diego’s ‘Boobs’
They were immortalized in Leslie Nielsen’s now cult classic Naked Gun, but the truth is, as a Gen X kid, the first time your parents took you into San Diego (or out of San Diego) and you caught your first glimpse at San Onofre’s pair of nuclear cooling towers, you either felt ominous about having nuclear power so seemingly close to the I-5, or yes, like Frank Drebbin, you probably thought of that girl you had a crush on, or that girl who’d outpaced your own adolescent development.
The Cake at Sherman’s Deli in Palm Springs
Sure, everyone’s got their own fave Jewish deli somewhere, particularly those 40% of Americans who live on the coasts of the country, but this seminal joint in Palm Springs is a mecca not only to Jews, Palm Springs residents, and snowbirds alike, it’s also the site of what may be Southern California’s best dessert. Sherman’s cakes are the stuff of legend. A visit to Palm Springs, dead-smack in the middle of summer on a blistering, ninety-five degree evening, isn’t all that it could be without ordering a slice of Black Forest or German Chocolate at Sherman’s. Try the rugelach cookies, too.
The Pirate Tower at Victoria Beach
It was a road trip for most SoCal kids back in the 80’s. It’s more well known now thanks to Instagram, but this Laguna Beach landmark was hard to access, mostly because of Laguna’s residential parking restrictions. It’s a fancy facade covering a staircase down to the beach from the residence above. Rumor had it once upon a time, it was a bootlegger outpost in the ‘20’s. Still, another rite of Gen X passage was heading there with your pals to smoke a few bong hits and down a few Bartles and James wine coolers.
Your First Run Through Pearblossom Highway
Most Gen X kids, particularly those who lived in the northern regions of Southern California, would first take this somewhat harrowing road on their initial trips out to Vegas because it’s a shortcut from the 14 at Santa Clarita to the 15 at Victorville. Along with the I-10 stretching from the east LA basin on its way out to Phoenix and Arizona, this road emulated the stark transition from SoCal’s golden beaches and paradisiacal strip malls to the open wastelands of the Mojave. Not to miss? Charlie Brown Farms, a catch-all convenience stop with an eclectic menu of offerings, including ostrich burgers, Texas BBQ, nostalgic toys and candy from the 60’s and 70’s, and exotic game jerky.
The Real Skull on the Pirates of the Caribbean Ride at Disneyland
Okay, this one’s touristy, but it’s part of coming of age, for all generations, not just Gen X. It’s above the headboard in the ‘Captain’s Treasury Quarters’ portion of the flume ride. There used to be more real bones scattered about the ride, because back in the day, it was cheaper to source real human remains from UCLA’s med program than to construct synthetic skeletons.
Having a Drink Where Jim Morrison Peed on the Bar at Barney’s Beanery
Yup, there’s a plaque. And yup, the Lizard King really did piss all over the bar there. That wacky icon of excess, though technically a Boomer child, set one of the many watermarks of Gen X indulgence for all of us to live up to, or fail to live up to, though most SoCal Gen X’ers managed to get there, I daresay.
Brat Pack Stargazing at the Beverly Center’s Hard Rock Cafe
In the mid to late 80’s, on Friday or Saturday nights, you could near uniformly catch an assemblage of those vaunted Gen X icons sitting at a cordoned-off, VIP dais at the Hard Rock in Beverly Hills. You didn’t even have to be 21 to be in there, ‘cause you could just order food, wander around, and look at all the memorabilia while surreptitiously gawking at the likes of Kiefer Sutherland, Emilio Estevez, and Charlie Sheen. Bonus points if you managed to catch that trio during the Young Guns era. Note the bitchin’ 80’s Fiat replete with Raybans-wearing driver above.
7. Guitar Center on Sunset Boulevard
While Hollywood Boulevard’s Walk of Stars and Graumann’s hand prints garner more attention, this lesser known concrete tribute outside the flagship store for all axe men was an essential pilgrimage for Gen X dudes who either played the instrument or idolized its most infamous players.
Harry Perry at Venice Beach Boardwalk
Harry was a fixture at the Venice Beach Boardwalk until he retired from grace. An ever-carefree busker, he was seen nearly every day there throughout the 80s and 90s with his signature white turban and bullseye guitar as he live-jammed through porta-speakers while roller skating through the crowds. A more lauded, non-celeb Angeleno local celeb, there may never have been, except for maybe…
Angelyne
Los Angeles’ most prominent, self-promoting, billboard diva was an ubiquitous character throughout the City of Angels, with her signature pink Corvette and platinum blonde bombshell aesthetic. She became her own version of local performance art, always cruising the glitzy streets of WeHo and Rodeo and Wilshire and Sunset, and thusly interred herself as an irreplaceable part of SoCal Gen X mythology.
In n’ Out Animal Style Fries
Secret sauce (a Thousand Island derivative, natch), grilled onions, melted American cheese. You simply can’t be a SoCal chapter member of Gen X until you first down a tin of these gut-busting bad boys. Period.
The Glass Elevators at Downtown LA’s Westin Bonaventure
You’ve seen ‘em in countless movies, including most notoriously in Schwarzenegger’s The Last Action Hero. Heights be damned, you’re just not legit SoCal native until you coast up and down in one of these. And yes, heights are damned indeed if you’re acrophobic, because taking one of the Bonaventure’s cars to the top in a good stiff wind can be quite a test of mettle…if you keep your eyes open.
Running into Kate at the Hotel Del
SoCal has no shortage of ghost story legends. In San Diego, the Hotel Del Coronado’s Kate Morgan, who purportedly took her own life in 1892 after waiting for a dude that never showed up, is quite a persistent spirit, often showing herself to guests, folding tourists’ discarded clothes in the middle of the night, and flicking bathroom lights on and off in the main Victorian building. Your author spent a week there once, and he and his wifey most definitely had someone unexpected in their room one night. If it was indeed Kate, she was perfectly cordial, picking up our dirty laundry from the floor and neatly folding it across a chair back. Truth! And my wife woke up to a presence sitting on her side of the bed at 3 AM one night, the edge of the mattress compressing under someone’s weight. The wifey was scared shitless, frozen, couldn’t even move to wake me nor speak aloud, which I sure wished she would’ve done. I lamented it for months afterward, ‘cause I’d have liked to have chatted with Miss Morgan.
Hitting a Show at the Fabulous Forum
It’s just how it was. A Forum show was virtually inevitable for most all Californian Gen X’ers. Prince. Van Halen. Aerosmith. Neil Diamond. It didn’t matter who you saw there live in concert to tick that box, as long as you endured the trough-style urinals or miles-long women’s lines in the deep dungeon-like bowels of Inglewood’s infamous music venue. Equally imperative was wolfing down an L.A. dog (bacon-wrapped, peppers, and onions) from a sidewalk cart vendor in the parking lot after the show.