Home of a dirty old man
The famous underground poet and writer – and legendary drinker – Charles Bukowski rented this humble bungalow for nearly a decade starting in 1962. For years Bukowski had struggled in the literary world, writing short stories and poems without much success, but it was here in 1971 that Bukowski became a novelist. In less than a month, he penned his first book, Post Office, about his years as a postal carrier and clerk, a job he quit while living in the De Longpre bungalow, after his editor, John Martin, convinced him to focus full-time on writing. Concerned about covering his living expenses without a regular income, Bukowski made a list of necessities – beer, cigarettes, child support, sundry items – totaling $100 per month, and Martin promised to foot the bill in perpetuity.
The rest is history. But Los Angeles has never been all that great about preserving history, particularly when it comes to architecture. In 2007, the bungalows on the lot, suffering from years of delayed maintenance, were put up for sale and were strong candidates for demolition and new construction. Bukowski fans rallied, and in true Bukowski style, a young office temp and photographer named Lauren Everett built a coalition with Esotouric bus tour founder and historian Richard Schave to defeat the redevelopment Goliaths. Together they convinced the city council to declare the bungalow a designated Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument, enabling it to join the ranks of the iconic Hollywood sign and Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.
Info
Address 5124 De Longpre Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90037 | Public Transport Red Line to Vermont/Sunset Station, then a .7-mile walk | Getting there Unmetered street parking | Hours Viewable from the street only; private residence, not open to the public| Tip Zankou Chicken (5065 Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90027), just a block away, spit roasts a mouthwatering chicken with a sublime garlic butter sauce. The tangy tabbouleh tastes like Mediterranean heaven.
Now, Bukowski fans can drive or walk by his former home and see a hard-earned plaque that commemorates the writer and protects the building from the wrecking ball. Pick up a beer at the Pink Elephant on Western, Bukowski’s local liquor store, and raise a toast to the man who once said, “We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.”
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