LA wouldn't be LA without its Freeways. The Golden State Freeway is one of the most familiar places I have. It's my studio, living room, and kitchen all togheter. I can eat a sandwich, make phone calls and check my emails on the go, and even read the newspaper when it's jammed, basically all the time.
If you love karaoke like I do, there's a ton of spots to check out in LA, but none quite as charming (or David Lynch-y) as Melody Lounge. Be forewarned, this spot is intermittently open. You'll know they're ready for business if they plant a sandwich board outside offering cold sandwiches and cheap beer. Hopefully, you'll get a chance to meet the owner Willie, whose (possibly embellished) life stories rival Hemingway. As for the song selection, the campy MIDI versions and painfully less than accurate lyric translations can suddenly turn your favorite tunes into high-wire acts (i.e. "Leaving On A Jet Plane" magically transforms into "Libyan on A Jet Plane"). Hell, they even have a song called "Schindler's List" on the menu! Even if you don't sing, Willie or his wife will gleefully take the stage. Special tip: for a true Chinatown boner, request Willie sing Enrique Iglesias' "Bailamos."
The Rose Bowl happens in Pasadena. The Flea Market is only once a month, its usually the second Sunday of the month. Its a great place to find vintage clothes, antiques and rare treasures. I once found an amazing David Hamilton book that I bought for $15 when it was worth $500.