Shakedown, 1979


I was never the biggest Smashing Pumpkins fan, but I did appreciate that perhaps their most famous and lasting hit was titled after my birth year. The song starts out:

Shakedown, 1979. Cool kids never have the time.

Now that I’m almost forty, I finally realize Billy Corgan was trying to send me a subliminal message about my childhood, Shakeys pizza, and the fact that I would eventually move to L.A., discover that the iconic parlor never closed like it did in Modesto circa 1996, and once again relish in its deliciousness, like I did as a kid after every MYSA soccer game.


“You just moved to LA and you want to eat at Shakeys?” people kept asking us.

Cool kids never have the time.

My wife and I, on the other hand, are not the cool kids. We’re not here to impress anyone and we keep it fucking real. In no way can we pretend that eating Shakeys pizza isn’t a big fucking deal because it most certainly is. Neither of us had felt the explosion of the mini sausage balls between our teeth in more than two decades. And the potatoes! Like the essence of childhood with every bite. The buffet bar was absolutely packed yesterday on Reseda Boulevard, and the flavor of the food was every bit as accurate as my memory. We were both almost in tears. The dream of the nineties may be alive in Portland, but the foundational essence of my nostalgic bliss is very much alive in the San Fernando Valley.

Case in point? This place…


You may have heard that the Brady Bunch home recently went up for sale, and a number of celebrities (like Lance Bass from NSync) were ultimately outbid by HGTV. The network plans to make a reality show out of the restoration, and I can’t wait to document the progress. It’s literally just a few miles down the road from our place, so I’ll be walking by on the regular and snooping over the fence. As I was searching for the address, however, I learned that my all-time favorite television home was just a few more miles down the 405. I couldn’t believe it, so we hopped in the car to see it for ourselves.


Talk about tugging at your heartstrings! I so badly wanted to run to the door, kick it open, and see Dorothy on the couch reading the newspaper, with Rose, Blanche, and Sophia in the kitchen drinking coffee.

I’ve wanted to live in this house since I was a kid. I had no idea it was in Brentwood, not Miami.

-David Driscoll