Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
Pete Yorn moved to Los Angeles almost exactly 30 years ago.
“I remember it was May 16, 1996 — maybe three weeks after I graduated from Syracuse,” says the singer and songwriter known for his smart, tender folk-rock stylings. “Which means I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. But when people ask where I’m from, I still say I’m from New Jersey.” He laughs. “I guess I identify very strongly with my upbringing.”
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Jersey pride notwithstanding, Yorn’s 2001 debut album, “Musicforthemorningafter,” is suffused with his experiences as a young transplant moving and shaking in a busy L.A. social scene he compares now to Doug Liman’s classic “Swingers” movie — “at least if you take away the swing dancing,” he says. “But the driving around and the going to parties — it was all the same stuff.” (Yorn’s older brothers, Kevin and Rick, are both prominent players in the entertainment business.)
The singer, who’s 51, is on the road this year performing “Musicforthemorningafter” in its entirety to mark the LP’s 25th anniversary; he’s also playing songs from throughout the rest of his career, including a 2009 duo record he made with his friend Scarlett Johansson. On July 24, he’ll release his 12th studio album, “All the Beauty.” Here, he breaks down his routine for a Sunday in his adopted hometown with his wife, jewelry designer Beth Kaltman, and their 10-year-old daughter.
7 a.m. Rise and dine
I’m like a 6:45 or 7 wake up just because I’m used to driving my daughter to school every day. I like to eat right away, and I eat the same two things every day: either yogurt with frozen berries, or there’s this overnight oats called Mush. The blueberry Mush — I can’t get enough of it. That’s what I eat before my shows too. I’ll go to a venue and the people are like, “What would you like for dinner? We have this beautiful menu,” and I’m like, “I’ll just have the Mush.”
10 a.m. Horsing around
Sunday is usually a day for something with my daughter. She’s taken a love to horseback riding — she’s much braver than I am — so I’ll drive her out to this barn near Bell Canyon, which my wife told me is actually in Ventura County. I said, “No way — Ventura County is way up there.” And sure enough, there’s this southern tip of Ventura that’s like 25 minutes from my house up the 101. Anyway, I’ll go and I’ll watch her ride the horse. I’ll be honest — I’m very nervous every time. But my wife grew up horseback riding, and my daughter, she just loves it. She can be very fickle, but this is one thing that’s stuck.
Now, I should say: If it’s NFL season, I can’t skip football. I’m a huge Raiders fan — it’s terrible. So if there’s an important game, I’ll have my Sunday Ticket on my phone and peek at what’s going on. But that’s fine — it’s understood.
12 p.m. Retail therapy
After the horse, we might go this place in Van Nuys called Iceland. It’s ironic because my wife, her dream trip is to go to Iceland the country, and the closest we’re getting to that right now is an ice-skating rink. Or I love going to the Fashion Square mall [in Sherman Oaks] — I don’t know if it’s a remnant of growing up in New Jersey or it just gives me the nostalgic feeling of being with my parents at the mall. I don’t even have to buy anything. I mean, I might end up getting roped into buying something — not a Labubu because that’s over but some sort of kawaii animal stuffy. I just like that the mall still exists in a time when it’s so easy for everyone to buy everything on their phone. My daughter was like, “Whoa, you can go in and touch things?”
3 p.m. Guilty pleasure
Here’s a naughty one: There’s a little bakery right off Ventura Boulevard called Schazti’s, and they have this chocolate banana pudding that is ridiculous. It comes in a paper cup.
6 p.m. Time to dine
If it’s Football Night in America, my wife and daughter would order Japanese or Chinese or Thai. They’d probably order that every day if they had their way — they’re obsessed. Sometimes I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal and call it a night. If there’s no game, a cool place to go that’s been there forever is the Smoke House in Burbank. I’d always seen it but had never been until a few months ago. Just a classic, old-school place — steak is great.
10 p.m. Slow for show
I’m early to bed because I know I’m gonna be up early to drive my daughter to school, which is my favorite thing when I’m home. I don’t want to miss it. I’m very conscious of how fast she’s growing up, and I know me — I’ll be sad when it’s over. We might watch a show or a movie but I’ll feel my eyes getting heavy after like 10 minutes. It takes me quite a few nights to get through an episode.
