What follows, are two completely unrelated stories that are ultimately about hope and inspiration:

I would like everyone to grab a box of tissues and read this story.  I want you to think about it the next time you get angry while driving.  I know I will.  I’m an admittedly terrible driver, and have been guilty of road rage many times.  I’ve been working on driving more calmly for several years, but living in Los Angeles, relapses are easy.  I hope that the memory of what happened to this family and their little boy will forever stay with me when I’m behind the wheel. Life is indeed too short.

When a porn star and a college student driving through the San Fernando Valley fell into conflict, a Bangladeshi American family suffered the consequences

Los Angeles magazine, February 2010

On the Internet you can watch a four-minute video clip of Ayman Arif dancing. The venue is a bedroom in his Northridge home; his stage, a comforter patterned with sunflowers. Taking his cues from a Bollywood spectacular playing on the television, the four-year-old Bangladeshi American boy wriggles, twirls, and bounds. On his bare chest he wears the pink string sash of the Brahman jester he is pretending to be. His mop of brown hair gives way to a wide forehead, and his dark brown eyes are bright with fire as he sings along to the Bengali-language soundtrack. One moment he’s wagging a stern finger, the next he’s clasping his hands to his heart or pumping an outstretched palm toward the heavens.  

On Tuesday, October 9, 2007, some ten months after her son’s impromptu performance made it onto YouTube, Syeda Arif was readying her family for the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Fitr—three days of gift giving, party hopping,overeating, and prayer to conclude the fast of Ramadan. At 30, Syeda was petite, with almond-shaped eyes and a husky laugh. She and her husband, Amir, lived in a Bangladeshi enclave in the northwest San Fernando Valley. Her father had been twice nominated to the Bangladeshi parliament, and Amir liked to say that she made friends with the ease of a born politician.

Around noon in the gathering heat of the day, Syeda buckled her two-month-old daughter, Ikra, into the car seat in her Honda Civic and drove to the home of Romey Islam, one of her best friends. The Islams lived in a modest gray ranch house on Sherman Way near Van Nuys Airport. Its soundproof front windows looked out onto a six-lane river of crosstown traffic that, like the row of palm trees lining the sidewalk, continued as far as the eye could follow. Read more…

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And keeping in the vain of “life’s too short”, here’s another article I highly recommend taking the time to read.  It’s an inspiring look at Roger Ebert, perhaps the best known film critic in America.  Those of you in other countries have probably never heard of him, but I’ve always had a special affinity for Mr. Ebert.  He was a fixture in Chicago where I grew up, and his movie reviews with Gene Siskel and patented “thumbs up or down” are legendary.  Five years ago, when the movie “Rent” came out, I was very excited.  Any regular reader of this space knows that seeing the musical “Rent” in 1996 was a seminal event in my life.  I went on to see the show 15 times in 15 different countries!  While I was a bit underwhelmed by the transition from stage to screen; subsequent viewings of the movie made me appreciate it more.  Upon realizing this, I wrote to Mr. Ebert to take issue with a few of the comments he made in his review of the film.  Imagine my surprise the next day, when I got a personal response from Roger Ebert from his personal email address; and he actually agreed with me!  I thought that was a very classy thing for him to do.  At the time, I had no idea of the huge medical ordeals he was facing.  I read this article last night and it brought tears to my eyes. Roger Ebert is a class act. This is the story of a life well lived and it’s worth your time. 

February 16, 2010, 7:01 AM

Roger Ebert: The Essential Man

It has been nearly four years since Roger Ebert lost his lower jaw and his ability to speak. Now television’s most famous movie critic is rarely seen and never heard, but his words have never stopped.  Read more…

PLUS: Have You Seen All of the Essential Movies?

By Chris Jones

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It was a very busy weekend at The Hotel Careyfornia, filled with many of my blog’s namesakes, primarily dogs (4), kids (3), and sunsets (2).  Thankfully, there was little mention of Sarah Palin and her redneck teleprompter!  Friday, Seth and Hannah came by with Garbo & Ruby.  On Saturday, David & Rebecca came with the two girls and Chanel the dog (just like last Valentine’s Day, when I went to Gay Traffic School!).  Despite snow in 49 of the 50 United States, it was 75° (24° C) in L.A. and we hiked up to the “new” Hollywood sign.  It’s been covered by conservationists temporarily to prevent land development at one of the last untouched parts of Los Angeles. After a quick trip to Millions of Milkshakes, we headed to The Getty Center for sunset (it’s free after 5:00 on Saturdays!).   We capped the night off celebrating the Lunar New Year with delicious Thai food.  Sunday, Claudio, Ryan, Omar & Chazz came to dance the Valentine’s night away at Avalon.  Tonight, Tyson (who took time out of his busy TV appearance schedule), met me and Chazz for dinner at Hollywood & Highland.  I’m exhausted.  Is it the weekend yet??

The day started with my aunt and I heading to LAX to meet Claudio and his brother, sister and sister in law, and their two kids, and Chazz of course. Then we picked up my Dad at the airport and headed downtown to Philippes for lunch. Dinner for 17 was at Buca di Beppo and was followed by Joel’s college (American) football game. My brother and his girlfriend and her two kids checked into The Hotel Careyfornia after that, and today they headed down to Disneyland.  I had other plans, and am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed for the first time in nearly a month.  It has been a very long past 3 weeks, and I’m exhausted!  My Dad is going to stay with my aunt for a few days, and he’ll come back up to The HC on Thursday after we celebrate Lisa’s birthday.  I’m looking forward to a little rest and relaxation until then.  Have a good week!

One of the most common questions I get asked on my blog is, “Do you really own a hotel?”.  Well, the answer is no!  The Hotel Careyfornia joke started years ago with my friend Hugo.  Since I traveled for 13 years starting in 1990 and didn’t even have a home the last 5 of those years; when I finally bought my home in California and actually had a place to live, my friends starting visiting in droves.  It helped that where I live is pretty centrally located and close to everything from the beach to the Hollywood Bowl.  My Dad made the infamous sign 4 years ago for my 40th birthday, and the rest is history.  We now have towels and placemats and the sky’s the limit!  We were busy again this weekend when David & Rebecca visited with the three girls.  Speaking of the Hollywood Bowl, we had a great time there watching Jewel & Michael Feinstein perform with the Los Angeles Symphony Orchestra.  Hope everyone had a great weekend! 

It’s been great having Daniel & David here with their parents.  Since they’re Korean and German it’s the best of both worlds.  Every morning, Mom & Dad head to the bakery for fresh bread.  At 7:30 we have a traditional European breakfast with meat, cheese, vegetables, bread & fruit.  Then I start my work day and they head out to see the sites, but not before their Mom makes my lunch.  In the evening, she cooks the most amazing Korean food.  I’m telling you, I could really get used to this. 

The other night we went to a great little Korean Barbecue in Koreatown called Tofu Village.  Have you ever noticed how a lot Korean & Chinese restaurants play cheesy American 70′s music?  When David and I went to the bathroom to wash our hands, I heard an old Captain and Tennille song I hadn’t heard in years and it reminded me of a story that I relayed to my guests about the first time I went to Paris 15 years ago.  Obviously this was pre Xanga and pre Internet, so when we got home, I pulled out my old diary to re-read the story and refresh my memory:

10 years ago on a late summer day I was in the Washington DC airport flying to Portland, OR on business.  I was at the gate quite early that day and ended up meeting and talking to a young kid who was in America for the first time as an exchange student.  There had been some confusion at the gate about his ticket and there was a bit of a language barrier so I helped him through the situation.  He was from Hamburg, Germany but of Korean descent and his name was Daniel.  He was a typical European kid.  Bright, polite, curious and mature…so different from most American teenagers.  We became fast friends in the hour or so we talked at the gate, and since I had upgraded to First Class and had some extra vouchers, I invited Daniel to sit with me on the six hour flight to Portland.  (This was years before 9/11, when things were so much simpler for high mileage flyers like me.)  That flight was the fastest six hour trip I had ever taken.  Daniel was such a well rounded young man.  A  piano player, into theater and the arts and wise beyond his years.  I regaled him with stories of the things he would do and see in the Pacific Northwest during his nine months in Oregon.  The Pacific Coast, Multnomah Falls, Mt. Hood, downtown Portland, Mt. St. Helens and so much more.  He was very excited, and as our plane touched down, I handed him my business card and said “Good luck Daniel.  Today’s the first day of the rest of your life.” 

When we exited the plane he looked around for his host family who was supposed to be meeting him at the gate (which again, was allowed back in those days).  I waited with him to make sure they showed up, and 15 minutes later, there was still no one there to meet him.  I told him that maybe there was a mix up and they were probably at baggage claim.  (Cell phones were not widely popular back then.)  Just as we were about to leave the gate, I noticed a family that could only be described as “out of place”, looking around.  They were dressed in tattered clothes, a father with a long ponytail, a very large mother (think Susan Boyle without the voice and with an extra 200 pounds), and 3 quite unkempt children.  As they were the only other people in the terminal, I approached them and asked if they were looking for an exchange student.  They said yes, and I introduced them to Daniel.  They looked him up and down as if they were looking at a Martian.  I surmised they were expecting a blond/blue eyed German kid in lederhosen; not a nearly six foot tall Korean kid.  As I came to find out, they weren’t exactly what they would call “city folk”.  In fact, they lived about as far outside of Portland as you can get.  After the initial shock of seeing Daniel, they awkwardly introduced themselves. 

It was painful to witness.  I wish I could have taken him with me and shown him all the things I had told him about.  But I knew I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.  My job was done.  So I shook his hand, and said, “Goodbye and good luck!”  That was that.  I left the airport and pretty much forgot about the whole thing.

About a month later I got an email with no name from an AOL address I did not recognize.  The email simply read:

That was it!  It wasn’t even signed.  I wrote back and said that I was glad things were going well, but that I didn’t know who this was.  I received a once sentence reply:

To make a long story short, that was the beginning of a ten year friendship.  Throughout those first 9 months, Daniel became my little brother.  As his host family sadly never took him to any of the places I had told him about, Daniel and I did many of those things together. (I got their permission of course, though they could have cared less.  They weren’t bad people, they were just simple and never left their small town.  Why they wanted an exchange student, I’ll never know.)  The photos you sere here are of us in the Columbia River Gorge and Multnomah Falls ten years ago.  I visited Portland on business frequently and even took Daniel to rent his first tuxedo for his first prom.  I attended his school plays and even put him on a budget which his mother later thanked me for immensely.  Daniel made the best of his situation and had an amazing experience in America.

A few months after he left, I happened to be in Germany.  I wrote to Daniel and he and his family invited me to stay with them at their home in Hamburg.  His mother was so sweet to me, and treated me like a member of their family.  I also became good friends with his older brother David, whom my regular readers may remember visited me earlier this year with his girlfriend and last year for the Oscars.  Daniel has also visited me here in LA before, most notably during the Great GLY New Year’s Eve 2004 at the Hotel Careyfornia:


Tonight, Daniel and his entire family checked into the Hotel Careyfornia.  It’s his parents first trip to the United States, and I’m so happy they chose to spend it here with me.  To me, Daniel will always be that little boy I helped on the plane, but now he’s a successful sound mixer in Germany who owns his own business!  I’m so proud of my little German/Korean brother! 

My work week from hell is finally over and we had a big celebration with the team in the Pope room of Buca di Beppo.  We thanked everyone for a job well done and I drove home excited to sleep in my own bed for the first time in a long time.  (I give up my bedroom to guests of the Hotel Careyfornia.   It’s only fair, given the odd hours I keep!)

I actually checked my overflowing mailbox when I got home   (for the first time in months) and was surprised to find two post cards from two places that surprisingly I have never visited:  Mauritius and Latvia!  It’s rare for me to get a postcard from somewhere I haven’t been, so kudos to V and David!

So after I finally got home, I was sitting on the couch watching American Idol and I felt strangely alone.  I began lamenting the fact that there was no dog (or people) in the house for the first time since Christmas!  (I’ve been dog sitting Daisy and/or Chazz and/or Chanel and/or Garbo & Ruby and/or Roscoe since who knows when!)  Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  I opened it and my neighbor Jessica was standing there with tears in her eyes.  Her newborn baby had developed jaundice and had to stay in the hospital.  She was understandably upset and asked if I could watch her dog Sophie for a few days.  Needless to say, the Hotel Careyfornia and Pet Motel wasn’t empty for long.  Sophie’s a good dog.  She sits out on the patio all day sunning herself and occasionally comes in my office and jumps in my lap for a while.  I’m happy to report that baby Jaden should be coming home from the hospital tomorrow, so all is well. 

Even though I’m not home this week, the Hotel Careyfornia is booked to capacity.  Luis and David arrived in L.A. last night sent me this wonderful, albeit staged, photo to let me know they were having a great time in my home!  I love it!

As you may know, I spent most of my Valentine’s Day at Traffic School….Gay Community Traffic School to be exact.  The whole day was kind of surreal.  I woke up early to walk Daisy (I’m still dog-sitting) and clean the house a bit as my brother was arriving tonight with his girlfriend, her two kids, and their dog.  Traffic school started at 9:00 and was just down the street.  It took place at the Gay & Lesbian Community Center, which is partly why they called it Gay Community Traffic School.  The other reason was because it was SO GAY!  Even though there were a few straight people there (including an Iraq War veteran), pretty much everything about this class was totally queer.

From 9:20 to 10:00 we went around the room and introduced ourselves and told everyone what we were “in for”.  Most of the people were there for red light tickets, crossing to get in the left turn lane or speeding.  The instructor referred to us as “criminals”, and promoted the “Lifetime Membership” for traffic school incessantly.  The most I learned all day was in those 20 minutes, because I found out where all the speed traps and ticket cops were in LA!  At 10:00 we took our first 30 minute break.  After the break, he spent the first 20 minutes talking about “Octo-Mom“.  I kid you not!  I secretly videotaped a bit of it.  To wit:

Then he handed out a “sign test”.  We took it, without discussion, and then it was time for our 90 minute lunch!  LOL.