I first fell in love with Los Feliz when Lt. Columbo of the Los Angeles Police Department introduced it to me. I was a child, living in Cupertino, some 348 miles away from Los Feliz Village, and Columbo was a fictional character, being played by Peter Falk in a series of movies on NBC. Columbo is the only series I can remember that I was able to “share” with my mother, and watching it as a child, the city of Los Angeles was as important a character to me as the guest-villains the redoubtable lieutenant would bring to justice.  The budgets of those television movies were sufficient to allow for a great deal of location photography and two of the movies featured Los Feliz landmarks quite prominently. They happened to be two of the movies that captured my imagination the most.

In 1986, when I moved to Los Angeles to attend UCLA, no one I met knew where Cupertino was. I would have to describe its locale in connection to larger, more interesting towns and cities. Years later, I would know that the tide was turning when an old college pal called to ask me why the weather in my hometown was displayed on the home screen of his new computer. I am grateful for where I grew up, but let’s not kid ourselves, Cupertino was not exactly “Paris of the 20s”. As I was growing up, it was apparent that a technological revolution was taking place and that an economic revolution would soon follow. Still, to those of us in our formative years, the town’s greatest attribute was that it was surrounded on all sides by more interesting, more historically significant towns!  A joke that my wife grew tired of many years ago is one I tell when people ask where I am from. I say, “Cupertino, but I was one of the lucky ones. I got out by hot air balloon before they built the wall.”

My first two years at UCLA, I got by without a car, and so I rarely ventured outside of Westwood. By my junior year, I had wheels (a Mustang GT) and the first place to which I remember driving was the Griffith Observatory. I still remember coming off the 5 onto Los Feliz Blvd. and driving past Los Feliz Towers, the twin condo towers between Commonwealth and Hillhurst. These towers were icons of the city to me because, you guessed it, they had been featured in a Columbo film! Built in the late 60s, so still new when I saw them on the small screen as a child, they represented opulent (and decadent) Los Angeles to me more than Beverly Hills, Bel Air or any Westside enclave. That was the first of many nights I would spend with my friends at the Griffith Observatory, frequently after the observatory was closed because … It was a different time. I imagine today we would be run off by security or by park rangers. And since none of us are now the age where we should be doing much running of any kind, I doubt we will be testing that theory. Back then, we felt quite at home and quite safe being there after the park closed. At least I did. For despite it being where James Dean’s character met his demise in Rebel Without a Cause (a film all of us young cineastes had seen), the observatory was a source of sanctuary for Laura Holt in Remington Steele and all the ways THAT show proved an influence in my life probably deserve their own essay! An essay for a different Substack …

During film school, I don’t think I made any treks to Los Feliz except to hang out at the observatory. But the good Lieutenant Columbo was going to impact my life again. In fact, in a way, he already had. It was seeing Wim Wenders’ 1987 Wings of Desire that convinced me I had to become a filmmaker, if only to see whether I might someday prove capable of making something so beautiful. In it, Falk plays a character named “Peter Falk”, an ex-angel often mistaken on the streets of Berlin for his television alter ego. On the eve of starting principal photography on my thesis film, my thesis advisor, the late George Schaefer, wanted to inspire me by giving me a taste of “big time” filmmaking. Columbo had recently re-launched with a series of television movies some eleven years after departing the airwaves. So, you can imagine my thrill to find that what Professor Schaefer had planned was a trip to Universal Studios to visit the set of “Uneasy Lies the Crown” a new Columbo television film, featuring as the villain James Read, the actor who had played “Murphy Michaels” on the first season of Remington Steele. Professor Schaefer had hoped the visit would prove inspiring. I was nothing less than a kid in a candy store.

The director, Alan J. Levi, was so welcoming and so accommodating. Years later, I would run into him at a film festival in Modesto, California and get the chance to thank him for his generosity of all those years earlier. He would pull me aside and jokingly say that he had a secret to tell me. The secret was that most people who work in film and television are actually really kind and generous. “But don’t tell anyone!” he would admonish me. That day, on the Columbo set, I let slip that I had recorded all the original 45 movies onto VHS. “You must tell Peter!” he exclaimed.

Yeah, right. There was NO WAY I was going to tell … Peter …

I made myself at home, taking everything in, asking questions of the crew and even going up to James Read and, in retrospect, probably breaking the concentration he was trying to maintain. Everyone, including him, embodied the welcoming tone that the director had established. All in all, it was a perfect visit.

And then …

I heard an unmistakable voice approaching me from behind, calling out, “Is that him? Is that him?” I turned to see a smiling Peter Falk, extending his hand by way of greeting. He was in costume and I half-expected him to ask me how much my shoes cost (if you’re a fan, you know). Instead, he asked, “Are you the one that has all 45 original movies taped?” I finally had to confess to an exaggeration. I only had 44 on tape. I told him the one that was missing from my collection and he said, “Oh, well, you aren’t missing much.”

“Except,” I began to protest, “that features one of the only times …”

And Peter Falk finished my sentence with me: “… that Columbo ever got angry!” He was delighted. I was delighted that he was delighted. What ensued was a conversation about our mothers, about directing, about Wim Wenders, about John Cassavetes. It was a long, wonderful conversation and one of my favorite memories. I wish I could tell you that he offered me the sage counsel to move from wherever I was living and relocate to Los Feliz. He did not. My future neighborhood did not come up (though the director and star of one of the Columbo shows that had introduced me to Los Feliz as a child, Patrick McGoohan, was most certainly a topic of conversation). And so, I realize at this juncture that I should beat a hasty retreat from recollections of the good lieutenant and the actor who portrayed him to worldwide fame and return us to our neighborhood nestled beneath the Griffith Observatory.

However, as Lieutenant Columbo was fond of saying, “There’s just one more thing …”

Once I became a resident of Los Feliz, I also became a permanent fixture at both the Los Feliz Cinema and the Vista Theater, and frequently, before shows, ads would be projected for Project Angel Food and for a PETA-afilliated pet rescue agency, the latter of which would feature impassioned pleas by actress Shera Danese and her husband … Peter Falk. It was as if he was looking down at me, winking, knowing I had found where I was meant to be.

I moved to Los Feliz in 1998. Before that, I was coming to the neighborhood frequently, a habit that began in the summer of 1991, on opening night of the Terminator 2: Judgment Day at the Cinerama Dome. After seeing the film, my college pal, Stephen Lem, a lifelong resident of the area, took me to the Dresden, to drink, and to experience the artistry of self-billed “jazz greats” Marty and Elayne Roberts. I am not sure if we went to the Onyx Café that night (in the site that is now Figaro Bistrot), but that, too, became an important part of our nights out in the village. Steve and I became such regulars at the Dresden that not only would our usual booth be cleared for us and for whoever we brought along, but Marty and Elayne would frequently stop whatever they were playing and launch into one of our favorite songs (usually “Nice and Easy”). Marty would often introduce it by saying, “This is for Philip and Stephen who just came in from the high rent district!” I am still not sure what that meant. And it probably made Steve and me seem like a couple, but it certainly did impress anyone we were bringing to the Dresden for their first visit.

Truth be told, by the time I moved into the neighborhood, I thought my bar habitué days were pretty well over. The scene wasn’t the same after the smoking ban. I was never much of a smoker. I only partook of Gitanes, and only smoked them because I looked devilishly handsome doing so. Still, as anyone who was around at that time can attest, bar culture of L.A.in the 90s was a lot more fun that that of the aughts. It wasn’t until the pandemic that I realized just how much I missed bars. Now, I never plan to let go of them ever again.

Still, when I moved into the neighborhood, Video Hut and Psychobabble were more my speed. In fact, one of the most memorable video rentals I have made combined those two long-gone, but not forgotten, hubs of Vermont Ave. social life. I was excited to learn that Video Hut had the Canadian drama Double Happiness for rent, and the very night I rented it, my excitement turned into an almost spiritual experience when I exited the store to find the film’s star, Sandra Oh, sitting on the front patio of Psychobabble just next door! I showed her what I had rented. I don’t recall whether she cared.

Through my first ten years or so of living in Los Feliz, I would look up at the observatory and wonder if I could walk up there. And if I could, how long would such a climb take? From down below it certainly looked like hiking trails led up to the stately edifice, but they sure seemed awfully high up in the hills! I don’t remember when, accompanied by the young lady who would become my wife, I first made the hike up to the observatory, but I know it did not take more than thirty minutes. Lily Holleman was the lady in question, and soon, once a week, it seemed, we were walking to the Trails Café for coffee. From there, we would hike up to the observatory, where we would avail ourselves of some of the spectacular (and free) attractions, and get coffee in the cafeteria. Then, we would hike down the other side of the hill, walking past the Greek Theatre, and exiting the park onto Vermont. When we got home, there was always a freshly brewed pot of coffee awaiting us. In retrospect, I feel this story is more about my love of coffee than of any particular aspect of Los Feliz. Still, if YOU are a coffee lover, you certainly can’t do better than our neighborhood.

That Lily and I met not only gave my life greater meaning, and deepened my love affair with life, but more important, it helped me win an argument. The famed fashion designer, Cynthia Vincent, who was, at the time, a longtime resident of the neighborhood as well, had become one of my dearest friends. I would, in fact, become godfather to her daughter, Theanna, but prior to that, I was trying to cut out all stress in my life, or all that was within my control. This led to me making two critical life choices. First, I stopped talking to my mother. Second, I gave up driving. In fact, I literally gave away my vehicles. Immediately, these choices led to wild improvements in my mental, emotional and physical health. Cynthia was glad for me, but pointed out that some day I was going to want to have a meaningful romantic relationship. She believed that such a desire was going to prove troublesome to fulfill if I did not have wheels of my own. Ah! But what if I meet and fall in love with someone who lives only a couple of blocks away? And that is exactly what happened.

Like me, Lily was destined to move to Los Feliz. It is the only place she has lived since moving to the City of Angels almost twenty years ago. We spent the first year of knowing each other becoming very good friends. In fact, the first night we ever spent together was an utterly platonic one and we spent it inside Fern Dell, locked in after dark. We departed upon hearing the gates getting unlocked in the moments before dawn the following morning. First the Griffith Observatory while in college, then Fern Dell while falling in love … Where in the park will I illegally stay after closing time next? I would say Travel Town might be a likely bet, but I have developed such a strong friendship with the Travel Town Museum Foundation, serving as their Santa Claus and judging Depot Days costume competitions, that they would probably let me have a slumber party there. And if they did, it would hardly count.  As a matter of fact, when Lily and I did get married, we had our wedding party pictures taken in Travel Town before they opened for the day!

Our wedding day was an entirely Los Feliz affair. Our “first look” together took place at the Mulholland Fountain (pre-fencing, of course). From there, we went with the wedding party to Travel Town. Then, it was to the Vista Theater, where our wedding ceremony took place. And after that, our reception was held at Friendship Auditorium, home of the almost-100 year-old Los Angeles Breakfast Club that Lily revitalized. We had wanted our rehearsal luncheon the day before to take place at Puran’s, but Chef Puran wasn’t too keen on the idea, despite us being regulars and despite the fact that Lily and my first official “date” started with dinner there. So, we had to cheat on Los Feliz slightly, and we chose the historic Tam ‘O Shanter on Los Feliz Boulevard instead.

Lily is a big fan of filmmaker, actress and author Miranda July and borrowed a line from her when describing how it felt to get married after our having dated for almost twelve years.  Lily admitted that we were no longer at the “beginning”, but said that it felt like we were in “the middle of the beginning”. That also describes perfectly how I feel about my love affair with Los Feliz.

We are in the middle of the beginning together. I have been here long enough to witness many changes. Some thrilled me. Some saddened me. But through it all, I continue to find ways to form better rapport with that which is forever changing, which to me is the most important key to a lifelong romance.

In the weeks to come, I will be writing more about Los Feliz, its history, its stories, its inhabitants. Once a month, I will be releasing a podcast featuring some of these residents and some of these stories. The first of these will become available next week. And what a big week for me it will be. For in addition to the first podcast episode of “The Voice of Los Feliz”, I will be hosting a live show at the Autry’s Wells Fargo Theater celebrating the “hidden gems” of Los Feliz. Taking place on the night of July 31, “Viva Los Feliz” is the name of the show and the Los Feliz Improvement Association, for whom I hosted the Council District 4 Candidate Forum in January, is producing it. Debra Matlock is the President of the Los Feliz Improvement Association, and like me, she is a refugee from Cupertino, having graduated from the same high school I did (Monta Vista). She, too, went to UCLA, and studied film and television.

If you are interested in learning more about Los Feliz, or if you think you might enjoy reading more of my writing, of if you have enjoyed my hosting work in the past and think you might like to check out the new podcast, I hope you will subscribe to this Substack. I also hope you will pass the link along to anyone who fits any of the aforementioned.

More than anything, though, if you live in Los Feliz, and see me around the neighborhood, I hope you will stop and say, “Hello” even if I have never seen you before. Because, as Peter Falk says to the angel he can’t see, but knows is there, in Wings of Desire, “I’m a friend. Compañero.”

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