Home now. Had my first decent cup of tea in 10 days, got Faithful Companion out of lock-up. Dad missed me big time, but he didn't run out of things to eat. Thought the first day bqack at work would be hell, but it wasn't too bad. To be sure, I could hardly remember all of the arcana of Hardware, but spent the day tracking down sample chips, which was just my speed. Anyway, the California saga continues, picking up where we left off...

Palm Springs To Life

I love Palm Springs! It was hot. Way hot. I passed a bank and the digital read out was 108. Woof! Love it!

Coming into town, you go past a surreal wind farm, these way out of scale three blade windmills. And they're well placed: you can feel the wind knocking you all over the road. Then you roll up to the gas station designed by Albert Frey, which has become the Palm Springs Visitors center. The folks there were verrrry helpful, giving me a handy map to architecturally significant structures in the city. You better believe I spent a lot of time driving around those sun-baked streets making rich folks nervous by parking across the street from their houses and taking pictures. Although they probably see that all the time, huh? But how many of those turkeyneckars feel the need to touch themselves in the while beholding the awesome splendor of the places they're fortunate enough to call home? Here's one!

I also took the Tram, heading 5000 feet up into the mountains. It revolves, and they make a big deal out of that. I was delighted to see that my fellow Tram riders included a group of outrageously stached and bearded men, all of whom had pierced septums, and one of whom was wearing a Utilikilt. Cool! They were from SF.

At the Top O' The Tram was a pine forest, packed with tourists. If it weren't for The Ankle, I guess I could have put some distance between me and them, but alas. So, while they took all of those touristy pictures of the kids standing in front of a rock, I did some extreme close-ups of lichen, tree stumps, and a water tower. And got some great shots.

And my second field trip came at Sir's suggestion. I headed up to Idyllwild. What a well named place! Say 'Idyllwild' to yourself. Just say the word. "Idyllwild." Feel your blood pressure drop? Feel suddenly more glamorous? "Idyllwild." The draw of the place--a mystery to me--is the fact that it's about forthy degrees cooler than Palm Springs. It's a total Road-Runner-and-Coyote trip up the mountains, full of switchbacks and hairpin turns and no guardrails. My favorite part was a sort of plateau at about 3000 feet, near a town called Hemet Lake. Beautiful, and the air was so sweet, redolent with pine and sage. I got a great shot of a white horse grazing among the sage.

Idyllwild ("Idyllwild...") was pretty much a collection of log cabins, but was notable for a really great mexican restaurant. And the great drive there and back.

Starbucks in Palm Springs. At the corner of Palm Canyon and Tahquitz. A Starbucks with ashtrays! Am I dreaming or what? And there beneath the swamp mister, I sat with these LA types in their warm up suits who answered their cell phones saying, "Yeah babe, talk to me." Love that!

And the Dessert Bear Inn was perfect. They aspired to sleazy, but didn't quite have the guts to pull it off. A great place to take a midnight hot tub beneath the stars before turning in.

Then came Thursday night. I drove to Ontario (California, not the one with the mounties) to pick up Big at the airport before the two of us headed west to Los Angeles. Dang I was looking forward to seeing my Sir. And there he was, heading down the elevator. at long last.

Not too much traffic heading into LA. We found our motel, the Coral Sands, without too much trouble. Now that place aspired to sleazy, and they definitely had the guts to pull it off. And here's a cool thing: the men were hot! Perhaps not the best place to stay with your Sir, but it worked pretty well for us.

I like LA. I like LA a lot. Such a great town. My next home could very well be the City of Angels.

Big and I spent Friday at the Getty Museum. It's amazing architecture, costing a gazillion dollars, but to say that it overshadows the art is quite an understatement. Anyway, it's worth the trip up the mountain for the view and for the stunning architecture. And the restaurant! Man oh man! The restaurant rocks! Great food, excellent service, and reasonable prices. And of course, there's the architecture. (I'm not mentioning the name of the architect on purpose; surely he's gotten enough praise heaped upon him.)

That night, Sir took me to the Faultline. A great bar. Not as much leather as I expected (LA and NYC seem to suffer from the same internetitis afflicting the leather community.) But regardless, there was enough to signal it as a leather bar, the men who were there were damn hot (reeeeally hot in a few cases), ever'body was friendly, they had a big smoking deck complete with a fire pit, and great energy.

Saturday was a trip to Long Beach. My chief goal was to seek out the remains of the Long Beach Naval Shipyard, which figured prominently in Susan Fahludi's great book, Stiffed. Alas, it is pretty much no more at this point. And the locals I asked about had never heard of it. Not surprising since it's almost ten years since it's closed. Big and I hit the aquarium where we petted sharks and rays (but not the hunky aquarium guy).

Although we didn't find the Naval Shipyard, we did find a memorial to Terminal Island, a thriving community of Japanese immigrants that was essentially disappeared into internment camps in 1942, never to return. Moving, to say the least.

That night, after dinner at Basix in WeHo, we went to the Cuff. Very cool bar. If I lived in LA, I'd want to be walking distance from the Cuff. My kinda bar. Dark, earnest, and all about hooking up. The only thing missing was a smoking deck.

Then it was back to the the Coral Sands and to bed.

The next morning, I ran to Starbucks while my Sir was in the shower. When I returned, he was waiting for me by the hot tub. Sir knows me so well. What better way to bid a fond farewell to LA than a soak in the hot tub beneath towering palms and a latte?

All in all, a perfect trip. A perfect trip.

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