Eating at Jackie Chan's Favorite Food and Gawking Hipsters

Last Saturday we committed ourselves to a lot; transport to Chinatown, finding a restaurant to eat copious amounts of vinegar and cornstarch on a dime, cocktails and then making it to The F-No Fest to see Lucero.

Not only did we accomplish all of this, but we exceeded our own expectations. Usually we would jump in our car and find our way down the 110, but this time we decided we should take public transport. Our friend, Sean, convinced us that it would breed adventure since we were all L.A. metro virgins. But, luckily, it was pretty unadventurous except for the guy that jumped in at the Compton stop and gave a very convincing sales pitch for Coby headphones. So convincing that we decided to take him with us so he could convince security at The Fest to let us into the VIP lounge. No, this didn't really happen, but Sean (who is always looking to score a deal) really thought long and hard about it.

We arrived about an hour later at Grand Central Station. Our journey through the barrios of Los Angeles had us feening for Chinese food. Sean, in a previous trip to Chinatown, had been to the restaurant where they shot Rush Hour and said it was tasty and cheap. We decided to seek this place out again, not wanting to take a chance on sketchy Chinese that would leave us in an uncomfortable predicament...later...at the fest...in a long line...for a blue port -a- potty.

Fortune-ately, we found it "Foo Chow Restaurant Where Best Seller Movie By Jackie Chan Was Shot Here". We ordered Tsing Taos and the family meal, which came with fried rice, sweet and sour pork, orange chicken, chow mein, egg rolls and fried shrimp. Everything was delicious and only cost us $40 and we quickly decided that we should celebrate our tasty and cheap meal with cocktails.

Enter Chinatown's best dive bar - Hop Louie's. It was dark, there was some nice folk to talk to and the bartender, Sean, was a good bullshitter. We liked Sean The Bartender. He had the name of an Irishman and, more importantly, poured a drink like an Irishman, but we were in Chinatown - so, no he wasn't an Irishman.

After a round, or four, we made our way down to The FYF Fest.

Years before, The FYF Fest was called 'The Fuck Yeah Fest' and would be a series of shows spread across a handful of bars in the Hollywood / Silverlake area. The bands were underground and the concept was great. You just barhopped from gig to gig and enjoyed a weekend of music. Not this time. This year, the festival got a makeover. They ditched the 'Fuck Yeah Fest' and traded in the vulgarity for a simple 'FYF'. Pretty stupid I think, since the name 'FYF Fest' pretty much means 'Fuck Yeah Fest Fest'. The stupidity grows even larger once we got to the gig. It was at LA Historical National Park in downtown, a large and spread out lawn. Three stages were spread across the park and the whole thing smelled of Warped Tour Ugliness. Tons of shitty kids going to see even shittier bands. A bunch of 'Hardcore' and 'Crapcore'. The only bands we had any interest in seeing were Lucero, Japanther and possibly Tim and Eric. Oh, and in order to drink beer, you were caged into a small area of the park and couldn't even see any of the stages from the far-away drinkers corner. Oh, and it cost $7 for a Miller Lite. It looks like someone was making money hand over fist.

I'd love to rant about the kids there, but I don't have time. Lets just say they were of the 'hipster' variety. Pretty much a retarded fashion show. Ironic t-shirts that they found at trailer park garage sales, goofy neon glasses, man-shorts that showed enough pale skin to blind a deaf man, shitty hair cuts, bad facial hair, etc. You can study these ilk here and here.

So, those people were enough to drive us to our wit's end.

Needless to say, we could only stomach the gig for Lucero's set. They played well, we screamed all the lyrics as well as our drunk selves could and that was about it.

Verdict: Jackie Chan has good taste in Chinese food, FYF Fest has bad taste in becoming a commercialized mess with masses of people who believe they are not commercial even though they are just another giant mass of people trying to look different, yet looking all the same.