“I don’t know how to process what I just watched…” read a text I received from a friend back in Ireland after I sent him a 30-second video clip of the proceedings at my first-ever meeting of the Los Angeles Breakfast Club.
Being new to L.A., I’ve been trying to immerse myself in the culture here—from catching comedy shows at Largo to trying the newest vegan Mexican food in the Valley—but somehow none of the guidebooks ever pointed me toward this bizarre and wonderful gem of L.A. history: a century-old social club that meets over breakfast once a week at the base of Los Feliz Boulevard to sing silly songs and listen to guest speakers. When I stumbled upon this group on social media, it seemed right up my alley, the only problem was… I’m not a morning person. Not even slightly. So it seemed like I’d never attend this 7am social gathering—but the promise of an art history lesson from RoboCop himself finally made me bite.
Back in 1925, the Los Angeles Breakfast Club was originally an excuse for the horse-riding businessmen of Griffith Park to meet up and grab breakfast. But the group soon became an official club with food, music, stories and lectures every week. It wasn’t long before they embraced quirky traditions and became an intentional parody of mysterious groups like the Masons. The gathering’s history is ever-present from moment to moment, and this old-world charm echoes into today, making it a timeless experience. Though there’s still a membership option available today ($285 yearly or $28.50 monthly), if a specific guest strikes your fancy, tickets can be purchased for individual events for just $35, with no obligation to join.
The club’s meetings take place every Wednesday morning, while most Angelenos are either in the gym or bracing themselves for a grueling 405 commute. It might have been that I was sleep-deprived, but walking through those doors of the Friendship Auditorium, where the morning meetings have been held since 1965, to smiling faces and quirky characters decked out in Hawaiian shirts and fedoras, I felt like I was stepping into an alternate universe—or at the very least, the set of a PG David Lynch movie. Either way, I felt miles away from the L.A. I’d come to know.
I was expecting a breakfast buffet, some sleepy chitchat and a keynote speech from a beloved ’80s actor—standard networking-conference-style fare, right? Nope! Nothing could have prepared me for what unfolded between 7 and 9am that morning. I felt like a deer in the headlights as their programming came at me in startling bursts that woke me up faster than the drip coffee and veggie bacon. One minute, you’re chatting with veteran attendees who welcome newcomers warmly with pleasant self-awareness (the line “We’re all mad here” from Alice in Wonderland comes to mind). The next, you’re joining hands with strangers, rocking back and forth and singing along to songs like “Yankee Doodle Dandy” or “Ham and Eggs,” the club’s anthem. It’s pretty catchy!
There is a strong sense of found family here, with in-jokes, silly traditions and shared weirdness unifying this eclectic buffet of early risers, empty nesters, retirees and tribe seekers. The resident grand piano player accompanied the festivities with a beautiful instrumental rendition of the doo-wop song “Since I Don’t Have You,” which—being a cult movie fan—I recognized as the song that morning’s guest, Dr. Peter Weller, sings in his barely known sci-fi B-movie, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension. I always assumed I was the only person on the planet who had seen that film. Suddenly I was in a room of 100 people, most of whom seemed to know and love this obscure title well. When the guest speaker was then introduced via a member singing a bespoke song based on Weller’s bio, I knew this convention of obscurity paid serious attention to detail.
Despite at times feeling like I was being pranked on some sort of Pee-wee Herman–esque hidden camera show, I couldn’t help but be won over by the sincerity of the members, performers and speakers. There is a whole subculture unfolding here before most of us are even fit for public consumption, complete with its own rules and etiquette that would take more than one visit to fully grasp—and I’m a long way off from understanding the lingo or decoding their famous cryptogram. (Don’t ask—or do?)
I was also lucky enough to witness a new member induction, which perplexingly features a blindfolded person sitting onstage on a wobbly old sawhorse and placing their hand on a plated fried egg. (Since the event, I’ve asked myself if this actually happened or if it was part of an extended fever dream, but research tells me this initiation pledge has been the same going back decades.) This happened right after an abrupt post-breakfast calisthenics workout led by a member who’s been attending since the 1980s.
The more seasoned guests assured me that Weller’s talk, “RoboCop to Renaissance,” would be a special treat. The screen icon shared his journey from being a young actor in New York hanging out with Andy Warhol to getting his Ph.D. in Renaissance art in his later years. He peppered the talk with pearls of wisdom about lighting and scene composition he’d observed throughout his career from working with famous cinematographers and directors who drew inspiration from Italian painters.
I couldn’t help but wonder what the guest speakers each week thought of this display. Most come to promote a new book or give a talk about their career or a new project, many of which focus on some aspect of Los Angeles history, culture or community. One week could be a talk about Art Deco architecture from a historian; the next it could be a discussion about the Black Film Archive, true crime or L.A. before freeways. Past notable speakers have included “Pope of Trash” John Waters, TCM host Ben Mankiewicz and Barret Eugene Hansen—a.k.a. Dr. Demento, “Weird Al’s” mentor.
Among all the zaniness, there were some poignant moments. I was taken aback by a reading one of the members, storyteller Adam Mellema, did from the intro to Leonard Nimoy’s biography. It was a piece about being a frustrated young actor in the 1950s in a dying Hollywood where work was scarce. The passage felt aimed at a room full of dreamers seeking their own L.A. fairy tale and served as a powerful reminder of the creativity and ambition that unifies so many people in this diverse city alongside the existential struggles the entertainment industry is facing.
To think that every Wednesday morning for the past 100 years, some version of this eclectic group of lovable goofballs has gathered in this way and kept the tradition going is truly remarkable. That’s not to say the group hasn’t evolved from its male-only origins—back when Walt Disney and Cecil B. DeMille hung out there. Even in the early days, though, when the club was closed to the public, the LABC knew they had something unique to share. Meetings would be broadcast on L.A. public radio so locals could hear the shenanigans unfolding at the quirky morning gatherings.
Even the most jaded Angelenos could find a sense of community at this quirky L.A. institution.
My experience at the L.A. Breakfast Club was unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Los Angeles—or anywhere else in the world, for that matter. And I had to wonder: Does the rest of L.A. know what’s going on behind the doors of the club’s “Shrine of Friendship” every week? Since attending, I’ve asked everyone I’ve met in L.A.—transplants and homegrown locals alike—if they’ve experienced the LABC. Few have even heard of this hidden gem, let alone attended.
Coming from Ireland, it’s often that I have culture shocks in this unique city that compares to no other on the planet. But even the most jaded Angelenos could find a sense of escapism, joy and, dare I say, community at this quirky L.A. institution.
And you know, if you want to come with a squirrel puppet on your arm, or wear that funky outfit that doesn’t quite go in typical social settings, then this is the spot for it. Come as you are, or dress on theme with that week’s guest. It’s up to you!
The L.A. Breakfast Club is marking 100 years on Saturday, November 8, with a Centennial Celebration event. Expect an elegant evening of dancing and dining. If you can’t make the event or just want to learn more about the group’s history, you can read about the past century of LABC in the forthcoming book The Los Angeles Breakfast Club: A Century of Hollywood, Hi-Jinx, and Ham & Eggs!