Summer in ...February?! and Dedicated to Liz.

Well first California tried to freeze us outa here for three weeks in December and January and now I slept on top of the bed (NOT in it!) last night. So it goes this winter, unusual weather here in CA and the rest of the country in a big deep freeze.

We drove last Sunday down south to Indian Wells, a distance of about 515 miles by Prius. Into the pouring rain (naturally)and fog. We took Highway 5, about the most boring road in the world...miles of rolling hills amidst the rain and fog and morons driving at 85 mph. We had "Bonnie" our ol' faithful Tom-Tom commanding our every move as while I PLANNED to skip "The Grapevine" climb over the Tehachapi Mountains and go southeast via Mohave (Mo-hhawv-ie)to the sunshine promised us. Bonnie decided otherwise midway through the southern part of the San Joaquin Valley and took us right on up The Grapevine towards downtown Los Angeles. Shit! Once on The Grapevine you are ON it with no chance to turn around until you reach the summit at 4400 feet or so. Once there the view above the fog and rain behind us made us rethink our possible retreat and onward we went into the LA traffic. Rain ensued, as did fog and the speeding morons. The traffic was thick, pasty actually with far too many cars in all 8 lanes of the monster Highway 10 as it passed downtown LA and wound through Pasadena. Stop and go on a rain slickened freeway is a difficult drive to say the least, many skidding BMW's and Mercedes and Lexuses and two complete write-offs, one upside down, in one mile long stretch that had standing water 6" deep to skid on at luge speeds. Fun. Once past the largess of the city, 20 miles of it at least, the traffic lightened up a bit and flowed at a rather stately 35mph.



Once through the awfulness the area near our destination provided us with huge windmills whirling in the constant wind of the storm as it blew itself towards Nevada in the distance. Hundreds of them, some in rows, some on top of mountain peaks. Quite a sight. Then through the late afternoon confusion of the Palm Springs group of "villages", Palm Springs, Indian Wells, Palm Desert, Desert Hot Springs, Cathedral City (Where's the Cathedral?...and the Bishop?), La Quinta, Indio etc. etc. All pretty "toney" these days with the exception of Indio and Palm Springs which have or have not (Indio) seen better days. Our stay (3 nights, 4 days) at the Renaissance Esmerada was hidden in the groves of palm trees along side highway 111 that scoots along the base of the local mountain chain quite dramatically (the mountains anyway). The hotel was huge and modern-ish with strange pyramidal fountains and square columns in the entry cul-de-sac. It couldn't figure out what its design was, Spanish? Mayan? Desert Southwest USA? Even a baroque table in the Elevator kiosk, huh? And our room had been furnished in campaign and mid-century modern style. All very nice but a bit confusing. The convention would begin for me Monday morning. Long winded meetings filled with men dressed in scholarly blue jeans and plaid shirts with pocket protectors. Mosquitos don't have a chance with these geeks on the job! Every day til Wednesday my days were meetings while Kelly found every possible thrift and junk shop in the "villages" and there were plenty! A few great finds from the miles of racks she perused in those three days.

We found great eats and a dud while we were there, a packed Don Diego was the worst Mexican "Cuisine" I had ever had and that included the fine Mexican mamacita on the beach in Puerto Vallarta who poisoned me with her chicken tamales some years ago. My over-breaded, over fried fish stuck into oily corn tortillas with a mushy tasteless salsa had no Mexican spirit or verve whatsoever. Kelly's Lobster Enchlladas were coated in a thick dark Mole and the "Lobster" crowed early in the morning the day it died. No meal worth eating in this lowly place but the local centenarians thought it was just dandy. Not me brother, give me the real stuff or nothing at all! Where's Rick Bayless when you NEED him?! The winner in the food department was Vicky's only a short drive from the hotel. 1/2 priced food and drink amid a people show, friendly bartenders and clean modern surroundings. The food was exquistite! Fresh fish tacos for 6 bucks, a 9.25 dollar NY steak, great crab cakes for 6 dollars as well. Fabulous food! 1/2 priced as well! Got them in the door I'll tell you...

Our return drive was uneventful though I was way too Prius-lagged to drive all the way or even 1/2 the way...so Kelly took over and soldiered her way through the desert, Boron, Mohave, Bakersfield and up the old 99 through Fresno and Stockton to
good ol' highway 12 and our little Suisun. She was a trooper! My hero!

Mike is ensconced at The Swamphouse. His arm is still a mess though he can do quite a bit with it, he's in pain.

Ice on Laurel Creek and Other Matters

Ice, yes...ice on the surface of Laurel Creek. No waves, no ripples, no patterns of wind nor fish or the otters as they cross and weave thier ways. Just cold, dense and most of all, rare. This is, afterall California. Ice on open water here is virtually unknown. The last time I can remember such an event was about 1995 when on a boating trip on our vintage boat Zulu we ran into the ice sheet as it extended from Suisun out into Suisun Marsh just past the old boat ramp. It damaged her bow a bit but Zulu became an icebreaker that day as we plowed through the thin crust to dock at the dock behind our house. Today it was 27 degrees here, brrrr. But as we drank our coffee and suited up for the days work at the little house we watched as Audrey threw rocks skidding across the ice towards the opposite bank. Wonderful!
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The little house proceeds, Audrey and Kelly spent the day painting the laundry room and the dining room to be (was a bedroom). I, wisely I might add, kept my mouth shut about the color selection. Med do NOT make such choices if they have a brain. It's one of lifes little lessons. Fabric colors either unless you are gay and prone to clothing design. It's just not wise. Creates conflict when it wasn't necessary.
Anyway, they chose a light yellwish cream color for the entire house interior. Nice, light and sunny. In a <1000 sq. ft house it will certainly help the place feel larger. The trip is a bright gloss white, which shows every bump and crevis and paint drip from the last hundred years. It looks very good. I got called into service doing the difficult-to-reach areas high up on the 10 foot ceilings. I like the painting chore, it's fairly mindless and the end result is always worth the effort...IF you got the colors right!
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Israel's invasion of the Gaza strip is totally understandable given that Hamas apparently (a hot word I know) broke the cease fire some months ago with the multiple rocket barrages upon towns within 20 miles of northern Gaza. I'm no fan of the heavy handedness of the Israelis but what possibly does Hamas and thier Palestinian fellows expect after all these years and all these battles?! It's been proven...the Israelis kick ass to protect thier people and protect thier right to exist in Palestine. Those that don't like it can continue to harrass and harrang them but the outcome surely is understood by the world at large...Israel will strike back and the innocent and the guilty will shed blood. Nothing new is going on here this time. Hamas will be weakened by the killings of thier leaders and that is that.
New ones will sprout up and maybe, oh maybe another course except violence will be created between these war-like nations. Maybe. Nonetheless, while the world awaits another cease fire...pay attention to this now...Syria, Jordan, Iran, Lebanon, Egypt have NOT joined the battle. They know...they know what I've just said is true and they won't. I've watched the middle east and studied the action and reactions between the various societies over the many years since Israel's inception and often wonderred why the US didn't carve out a homeland for the jews in our country? Have Disney do a Jewish Epcot Center in the middle of the Mohave Desert with all the attributes of Jurusalem, 3/4 size of course, and be done with it. Give Palestine back to the Palestinians and walk away pleased. Know thins...it wouldn't work.

Automobiles, Cars and Piles of Junk Cont'd

The next chapter in my exploits as a car owner happened when my mother died in the spring of 1963. The Red Cross paid my way to her funeral in San Diego and I accompanied my grandmother and Harold back to Selma afterwards. I bought the Mercury from a used car lot in Selma. She was a shiny low mileage used 1956 Mercury 2 Dr. Hardtop in two-toned green, dark below light on top. Quite a nice ride she was and in top notch condition. I was determined to take her back to Keesler with me so I could explore Mississippi and Louisiana more easily on the weekends. They sent me on my way with a couple of ham sandwiches and some blankets to let me sleep in the car on my way to Keesler if I needed too. I drove down the 99 and headed out into the desert towards the old Route 66 that I was going to take east to my destination a couple of thousand miles away. I got as far as half way to Blythe across the icy cold desert when the Merc coughed and quit. I sat by the side of the road for a long while and finally signalled a car who stopped and gave me a ride to the nearest town where I called Harold for advice on the car. He told me to hold tight and he drove the 150 miles to fix it (blocked fuel filter) and take me to the Greyhound station in Selma the next afternoon to renew my trip back to the base. The Merc remained in Selma for a while. When I got my permanent duty assignment at Beale AFB I returned via air to Fresno, Harold picked me up in the newly waxed and cleaned spotless Mercury which I soon drove north to Beale AFB outside of Marysville. I got it licensed for use on the base and used it going back and forth to visit my parents and girl friends in Selma on weekends that I was able to. It got about 15 mpg and was fairly reliable as well, it looked nice and my dates appreciated that it got us to the skating rink and home again without either running out of gas or go due to crappy mechanicals like the old Ford often did. I put many thousands of miles parading that car all over northern California until one day on the way back to the base from Selma it died and Harold came the 60 miles to rescue me again. It was adios to the Merc, sold for parts now in the 8th year of it's existance. I bused my way back to the base on Sunday and bought a new car about a month later. The verdict: Another piece of junk.