It really is a small world... when I first moved to L.A., I lived in a cheap apartment in a crummy part of the city known as Highland Park. The apartment was rent controlled and because the owner of the building was a myopic, off-site fellow named Mr. Tongue (really! Sorry Joss Whedon), who evidently had no idea who lived in his units from day to day, we were all living under years-old rent agreements that had been made under names none of us recognized. (If a tenant officially moved out, the landlord then had the right to raise rents to current market values. If the name stayed the same... cheap rent!)
Anyhow, it was a two story building, with apartments facing an open courtyard with a small pool and deck. Open air walkways connected the apartments, sorta like a Motel Six. It was called "The Golden Palms" and last time I went through the old neighborhood it was still there, though looking much the worse for wear.
When I moved in, my next door apartment neighbors included Paul Chadwick (creator of CONCRETE and now legendary comic book figure), Ron Harris (another great comic book artist, since moved into animation) James Gurney (creator/painter of DINOTOPIA) and Thomas Kinkade, the now renowned (and very wealthy) "Painter Of Light." Thomas did me a real solid back in the day; when he moved out of the building, he allowed me to take over his two bedroom place (under the same precious rent control agreement), AND he left me all his furniture. I remember that one of the first things I did before moving in was repainting the place, covering all the paint spatters left during his occupancy. What would THOSE be worth now? (Or that furniture!)
Anyhow, I don't think I ever saw Kincade or his wife after that (it wasn't like we were dear friends, though cordial), though they may have popped by from time to time. The Gurneys eventually moved out too, and Paul, and the apartment complex took on a much nastier feel as gangbanger-types started coming in. I recall one night when one of the gang-guys threw a wild pool party with bikers and all sorts of craziness. Non-violent tenants bolted their doors and basically waited the party out in lock-down. In the morning, I went out to get a paper and found the next door neighbor using a broom to push the accumulated pools of blood (!) off the upper-deck walkway. Ahh, sweet memories...
Anyway, it was an "interesting place", so I'm curious to see if it is at all reflected in the new movie, just released, about Thomas Kinkade's life. Given this article from Vanity Fair, I kinda doubt it...
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/culture/2008/11/14/thomas-kincades-16-guidelines-for-making-stuff-suck.html
(Thanx to Mr. Chadwick for the link...)
