The Climb

I HAVE A PERMIT!

A friend convinced me to climb Mount Whitney this coming summer. I am so excited about this adventure on so many levels and I've already begun conditioning. Mt Whitney is the highest peak in the lower 48 states. It is an 11 mile ascent (22 miles round trip) with over 6000' of altitude gain. Yikes! Our climb is on August 8th so we have 4 months to ramp up the training schedule in preparation.

Located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in Eastern/Central California Mount Whitney's summit is 14,500. It is a well-traveled and maintained trail but conditions are highly dependent on the weather - not only on the day of the ascent but all season long. I have a friends who did it in mid-July last year after an extraordinary year of precipitation and snowfall and required crampons at higher elevations. That is not the kind of experience I'm interested in or expect to have. Nevertheless it is a grueling day. My friend left the base area called Whitney portal at 2 am and returned at 8pm. Eighteen hours! There are 99 switchbacks in all that traverse the side of the mountain. I think I'll sing 99 bottles of beer on the wall to count them down.

We won!

Every 10 years the US Census Bureau polls and enumerates the population to determine congressional districts and allocate funds for program funding. At the municipal level Los Angeles uses the data collected to redraw the councilmanic lines in a process called Redistricting. There are specific laws that must be followed in the process and a commission of 15 members was appointed (not elected by voters) by the mayor and the LA City Council. The theory "one person, one vote" is the mandate and the districts aim to be egalitarian in number and demographic. To that end, communities of interest and geographic contiguity are expected to be considered and protected. Granted, the job of the commission was extraordinary and they had a daunting task ahead of them to accommodate over 4 million constituents and divvy up the city as equally as possible without pissing anyone off. Impossible!

As part of the process the public is encouraged to submit maps and participate in public hearings in order to have their opinions and discourse part of the public record. The commission then submits the final draft map to be approved by a Rules Committee - a team of 5 City Council members - before the final vote goes before the full council. I haven't been involved in the process before now but this time the public turned out by the hundreds as their districts were carved up and eviscerated. Since the commission's work was lacking in transparency and there was seemingly no rhyme nor reason to the final outcome the only obvious conclusion was that political gerrymandering and backroom dealing was at play. Some even accuse of racism given the way some districts were shaken down.

After weeks and months of hearings and meetings, letters and phone calls the council amended most of the districts under contention and restored our little enclave in Westchester to its rightful home with the rest of our neighborhood and councilmanic district. That said there are many constituents throughout the city who are furious and with just cause. During the final hearing one of the commissioners came forward and admitted that indeed racism was a key factor during the process and promised that lawsuits will be filed. But to put it all in perspective let's bear in mind that politicians are a priori in their thinking. That is to say that they think of the city not in cohesion but in terms of voting blocks with the hope of saving their ass and/or advancing their own political aspirations. This time negotiations worked to the benefit of many but stiffed the powerless few because no matter how impartial the law intends to make it politics (and those who play that game) is corrupt.

Desert Paradis

Here we go again... another trip to Palm Springs.

One of Damon's friends from high school is an artist living on the East coast and planned to show in the annual art exhibit during Modernism Week. It so happened that his mother was celebrating a milestone birthday so he rallied a bunch of family and friends to hang out in PS for the weekend. Since we were just there a few months ago we had spec'ed out a few hotels that looked interesting. The one we absolutely fell in love with is Korakia. It's a Mediterranean inspired oasis featuring a rock water wall with San Jacinto as the back drop, infinity pool, fire pits and torches all around and casually designed and appointed cabanas. The place is magical and designed to encourage you to forget about your regular life and enjoy tranquility at least for a few days. There are no phones or televisions - in other words, no distractions. Just as Deetjen's is our sanctuary in coastal Big Sur we've found our special everafter place in the desert.

With just the right amount of service, homemade breakfast is served in the courtyard each morning, Morrocan mint tea and skewers of fresh fruit in the afternoon, capped off in the evening by chunks of delicious chocolate left in your room. Agatha, the TWENTY FIVE ! year old cat and resident mascot, is a soothing element in this serene environment enjoying the sunny poolside or cozy daybeds along with the guests. One night before dinner we curled up with blankets and lanterns and watched a classic movie under the stars. One morning after breakfast we took the bikes available for guests and toured through town before slinking into the pool for the rest of the afternoon. They host retreats as well and I can't imagine a more wonderful experience. Can't wait to come back!

Here's how we spent our 4 day weekend:

Just west of PS lies the sprawl of Desert Premium Outlets. I'm not much of a shopper but we decided to stop by since we we'd never been before plus we had arrived in the vicinity too early to check in at Korakia. All the luxury brands are represented - Prada, Dolce, Versace, Burberry - so it was fun to peruse and fantasize. For dinner we LOVE Matchbox. The food is positively delicious whether it's the cherry glazed pork chop or halibut fish and chips or simply an artisan pizza. It's right in the heart of PS and will never disappoint, unless they are closed which I learned they are only open for dinner.

Our friends were staying at the Viceroy so we joined them poolside for lunch on Saturday and then spent the afternoon relaxing at one of 2 pools at Korakia. The sun sinks behind the mountain earlier in the Tennis Club section of PS before anywhere else especially in winter so the mint tea was a wonderful way to warm up before a little glass of whiskey fireside later in the evening. Our friend had planned a BBQ at the house he rented so we had a wonderful evening with old friends reminiscing and having a gay ol' time.

There are zillions (slight exaggeration) of hiking trails in the PS area to suit all fitness levels. The one we opted for on Sunday morning was the rigorous Museum Trail. It's 2 miles, much of it rock climbing, with a 900 ft elevation gain. From the ridge line you can look out over the whole valley. It is gorgeous and so invigorating. After a little rest we headed out to the convention center to take in some cultcha. I prefer edgier art than most of that displayed at this show, however there were a few things I fell in love with. Each of them in the tens of thousands of dollars :( Afterward we celebrated Damon's birthday at Spencer's. The atmosphere is modern and lively, the food is delicious and perhaps, had it not been one of the last reservations of the night, the service would have been palatable as well. However, we felt as though we'd overstayed our welcome when they were dragging out the vacuum cleaner and we hadn't ordered dessert yet. It may deserve a second chance since the wine list is decent and the food was above average. Looks like a very nice place for brunch. Our room at Korakia had a little courtyard as did the adjacent room so we met the wonderful couple staying next to us. We decided to meet up with them later at Hunter's, a gay nightclub. Although it was Sunday night on a holiday weekend (usually the best night to party) the club was thin with patrons but the dancing and people watching is always good.

Three days passed in the desert leaves you lazy and lingering. We really needed to get out of town but there was an open air art faire and of course all the vintage furniture shops and bric-a-brac on North 111 called to us. We toured the eco-friendly pre-fab house daydreaming of the time when we'll settle on a cool piece of dirt in central coast and erect a tilt up house and raise goats. I guess that's another post. Tradition mandates that when leaving Palm Springs we have to hit up Hadley's for a banana date shake putting a sweet end to another delightful weekend in PS.

Loss

My precious Grandpa died today. Once a strapping and spirited man he was ravaged by that heinous "C" word that has become such a nonchalantly normal part of modern life. But in the end, still stubborn and full of good humor, he was a shadow of his former self. He was shrouded by his loving family as their gentle presence allowed his journey to the other side to be a little more comfortable.

Loss is difficult to conceive until you've lost. Sadly, it's a profound emotion I've become all too familiar with. I had the good fortune not only to know him (and all of my grandparents) but to sit at his bedside and tell him how much he has meant to my life and express how his teachings and the love I felt from him enriched the very person that I am. Because I was blessed enough to have such a lengthy relationship with him it makes it that much harder to say goodbye. I wish it were easy to gracefully accept death as a inevitable even beautiful part of life - an event not to be mourned but to be celebrated and upheld. This too is difficult when the process is begat with so much suffering. For the surviving the great emptiness that is left in the wake of death can overshadow the gratitude that we feel about the termination of pain and the joy that the life bestowed upon us.

I will miss so much about my Grandpa and all those who passed before him for the many contributions they made to my life and the world at large. While death saddens me it does not scare me. I see it as a chance for a new beginning. A chance to embrace the beauty of life all over again.

I'm An Angel!

As if you didn't know that already.
I just finished my shift volunteering for the KCRW membership drive and I became an angel donor. In addition I helped raise over $1300. to keep the programming I love alive and well. Your turn.

Road Trip - California's Gold

After three years of financial pummeling and fresh off the heels of our remodel, we were cash strapped so a big vacation was out of the question in 2011. Good thing I love to camp. It's a ton of work but ultimately worth the struggle when you cook by firelight and sleep under the stars. September is the best time to travel - I would argue just about anywhere in the world since the weather is generally warm and crowds are gone. After talking with my sister-in-law in Bend, Oregon and learning that they planned to spend the labor day weekend up at Lake Shasta I decided that would be the jumping off point for our holiday. When you're camping for a week you need a lot of gear. We decided to rent a SUV so we could have reliable a/c and iPod plug in to make our trip a little more enjoyable than that my old Jeep could promise. Other than 3 days in Shasta we had no particular plan. Much of the state is scorching hot but the coast can get downright cold so we needed to be prepared for anything.

When we left on Thursday afternoon it was warm but not uncomfortable. By the time we got over the grapevine - a stretch to the south of Bakersfield - it was a wall of heat. I turned on the a/c. Nothing. I turned up the a/c. Nothing. OMG! It was a late summer heat wave and we had no a/c. I called the rental agency and they said we should swap the car out at the nearest airport, which by then was Fresno and another 2 hours away in the blistering heat, making sure they could accommodate our need of a large SUV. One speeding ticket later on some back farm road and they were changing our contract at the rental place only to find out the car they promised had been sold and unavailable for rental. They stuffed us into a much smaller crossover SUV but we had functional and cold a/c. This inconvenient set back put us way behind schedule and we were forced to bed down for the night in the Sacramento area.

It was dark when we pulled off the highway in search of a quaint, affordable spot to sleep. We pulled into the lane way of one place only to be chased off by some nefarious looking fellows. In the next stop Damon met a woman in the lobby who informed him that this part of town, South Sac, was known as hooker row. Onward we go. As luck would have it our next exit in Old Sac was the right one - perfect location, clean room, good value. We crashed after an exhausting day excited to do a little exploring the next day.

Sacramento is the California State Capitol and until this trip I'd only ever driven through on the way to somewhere else so in the few hours we had I wanted to maximize our conquests. Tours of the Capitol are conducted every day of the year. It's brief and informative including a stint in a legislative session for a few minutes. The vicinity surrounding the building is beautiful as well and hosts many shops and restaurants as well as gardens, the Governor's mansion, cathedrals and other government buildings. We spent some time in the Federal Courthouse which has a gorgeous granite "chair" installation in the lobby inscribed with proverbs and anecdotes from various famous and infamous people. Amazing city/river views can be seen from the top floor.

Just a short walk under the railroad tracks toward the river and you're back in time about a century landing in the Old West. Labor Day Weekend is "Gold Rush Days" in Old Sac and tons of dirt is trucked in to line the old streets as do horses, wagons and civil war soldiers. Old Sac was proclaimed a historic site and many of the buildings in the district are original to the gold rush era. The city is set at the convergence of the Sacramento and American rivers and was subjected to routine flooding. In the mid-1800's the city was reconstructed at a higher elevation and today part of the old city can still be seen underground. Even the Capitol was moved to higher ground from its original location. We meandered along the riverwalk awestruck by the vertical lift "Tower Bridge" and up and down the old streets until our whistles needed whetted before heading back on the road. Ten 22 was just the kind of saloon we needed with another 5 hours ahead of us to Lake Shasta at the tippy tippy top of California.

This stretch of CA is pretty boring. It's arid, fairly flat, often windy and putrid given the copious agricultural plots. We pulled up to our campground at Shasta around 6pm and met Daren and the kids at the dock where they were waiting with the boat. It was still about 90 degrees so being on the water was perfectly refreshing. After a little BBQ, I hung my hammock up between two trees and hopped up for beddy-bye under the stars. If the train passing through all night hadn't awoken me I may have been able to bear the cold but it was not to be. Into the tent I went, from the cocoon of my hammock to the cocoon of my down comforter and featherbed. We spent the weekend boating and skiing celebrating the summer.

We set off on Monday morning not having any idea which direction we'd head or where we'd wind up. It was a beautiful lush drive through the mountains as we meandered along the Trinity River which was still flowing wildly from the extraordinary snow fall earlier in the year. And it was hot, dang hot. We found a perfect spot to pull off the highway and take a dip. It was a small but steep hike down the canyon side to the river's edge. I could see how the current was swirling in the eddies at the bend in the river but given the heat it was so inviting. I'm not a strong swimmer so after a moment's contemplation I dove in. I literally lost my breath it was so frigid. The water was moving very fast but I kept close to the edge. Damon, a close relative to the fish, splashed around and played for a long while as I sat on the rocks watching gigantic Steelhead trout and salmon, practically the size of small seals, jump and play right alongside him. It was breathtaking all around.

As adventuresome as traveling without a plan is it can also be a bit harrowing when you don't know the lay of the land. We emerged from the mountains with just enough time for a brief visit in Eureka, the largest of Northern California's coastal towns. We went from 100 degree temps inland to needing our winter coats at the beach. This variance in temperature creates the visibility of pea soup so we didn't get to see much of the rugged coastline. The town sits on the bay and has a devout Victorian architectural influence. I'm pretty sure the prudish era's influence ends there given Humboldt's reputation as Mary Jane's backyard. It is definitely hippy trippy up there and I loved it. Fuel prices were almost $5/gallon and the coffee was about as strong as fuel. We drove awestruck through the Avenue of the Giants (redwood trees) that make up the bulk of the landscape. The late summer light was waning and we still had to set up camp and cook. We found a beautiful remote spot in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. We were one of nine occupied camp sites in a park teeming with vacationers only the night before. And lucky to get in too - they were closing for the season the next day because of state budgetary constraints. The park is in the middle of a forest so dense with redwoods that the sun barely gets through. It's laced with hiking trails of every level of difficulty and terrific amenities including super hot showers. Firewood is for sale on site.

The Shoreline Highway, also known as Hwy 1, is well-traveled by cyclists commanding the 2000 ish mile ride from BC to Baja. We shared this glorious day with them and the cows. And the, double-take, reindeer. A poet I am not but I enjoyed the juxtaposition so here's my rhyme.

By the side of the road Dasher and Dancer roam
Their sleigh and driver nowhere in sight
Under sunny skies and over 5000 miles from home
Majestic beauty before us to our utter surprise and sheer delight

Quaint town after town line the jagged coast and we stopped in just about every one of them. We talked with shopkeepers, travelers and cyclists. At one turn, as our warmth and visibility went from 9 to 2 respectively as we neared the coast, we noticed a few guys in wet suits and what appeared to be weight belts clawing their way up the steep cliff lugging bags behind them. They were reticent to talk to us thinking perhaps we were fish and game wardens since they'd been abalone diving. It is a highly regulated practice and hefty fines are doled out if you breach. They had their "license" (effectively a punch card with hanging chads) and some decent catch. They explained the laws regarding size and quantity limits but also that you can only get what you can get while snorkeling with a weight belt and that you have to use a certain tool and method to extract it from it's habitat. We also learned about preparing them for eating as well which sounds about as laborious as collecting them to begin with. Fascinating. So much so that when we stopped for a picnic lunch at the shore, we collected handfuls of the gorgeous iridescent abalone shells washed up on the beach. We've made jewelry from some pieces.

There's so much to do on the Northern coast - kayaking and whale watching among the most popular activities. We took it a little easier this go around opting instead to visit lighthouses and watch the oodles of sea lions lazily occupying the rocky surf. Each night we had to make sure to secure our accommodations before dark - although we witnessed many who didn't and had to set up in the pitch black. It was positively freezing after the fire died down and the only respite was to go to bed. Your instincts tell you to layer up to keep warm but in reality you're warmer if you strip down and snuggle up naked given our bodies are a toasty 98.6 degrees. Paradoxically, it's a rather strange and vulnerable feeling to be in nature's territory in such a "natural" way.

One day we only clocked 30 miles on the odometer. We had a wedding to attend on the weekend so we couldn't lollygag the way we might otherwise have. I was hoping to make it to Yosemite since Ive never been in the park before but we were still on the other side of the state. We'd been places and seen things we hadn't seen before and were fully relaxed - just as a vacation should be. As we pushed further down the coast night was falling as we came into Sonoma county so we decided to set up camp on the Bodega sand dunes. This was quite a different experience from the other nights in forests among the shelter of trees. Late in the day the fog rolls in thick and misty leaving the soft grainy sand a wet mess. Following a rigorous hike to the beach through this quick sand and dodging deer poop we were enjoying a big, hot blazing fire. As we sat there talking we see a shadowy figure approaching our camp. All evening long we'd spotted bright curious eyes staring at us through the ambers but they were innocuous (deer are abundant throughout the area). This creature was not you're usual expectant masked beggar. No, this was the kind that could put the kibosh on your holiday right quick. Looking for a snack, a skunk was traipsing right through our camp not 2 feet from where we sat. Any startling maneuvers and we most assuredly could have been the recipients of that offensive and most potent of defense odors. Our heartbeats no sooner returned to normal when two more came snooping around. Time for bed.

At sunrise I was still holding out hope for a trek across the state to Yosemite but Damon learned we were just an hour from San Fransisco so it will have to wait. All the ensuing events that followed were kismet and we spent the last night of our holiday in SF (see another post) capping off an incredible week of adventure.

Join the Mile-High Club

Beginning next year Dutch Airline KLM is introducing a program called Meet 'n Seat which will allow travelers to use social media to check in and choose their seat alongside other passengers based on technology profiles. We've all been on long flights where the person next to you just won't shut up about their grandchildren or some other stupid thing you have no interest in. I myself have drooled on a man I met in Amsterdam and went home with. Rephrase - We traveled stateside on the same plane and I fell asleep on his shoulder only to wake up drooling on him.

Imagine if you could hand select the person you sit with for endless hours of confinement and you actually have something in common. Maybe it's a business connection, maybe a love connection or maybe just interesting conversation to pass the time. Recently on my flight to San Fransisco I sat between two young people and had fun and informative chats with each of them. This union was serendipitous but in the future you won't have to rely on chance.

Below is a synopsis of the offering. Be sure to watch the accompanying video.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/travel/international/6168776/Meet-n-seat-mile-high-matchmaking

Home Away From Home

I've written about San Fransisco before, not only because it is a place I frequent but because there's so much to write about. In this recount I'm combining the last few visits since I've been remiss. Preliminarily, I want to mention how ecstatic I am that Virgin America is in my neighborhood. This is bar none the best commercial airliner in this galaxy. I first flew them years ago to the UK and wished I made more transatlantic flights just for the superior service. The mood lighting on these sexy planes makes you want to lose your "virginity" to the mile high club.

A stunning masterpiece in its own right, the DeYoung museum curated a collection of masterpieces from Le Musee D'Orsay in Paris, France earlier this year. I had to see it knowing before I go back to France I want to visit Argentina, China, India, Russia, and all the other "ias" and "inas". Post-impressionists en mass and their exorbitant bodies of work were stuffed into the basement crowded with hoards of admirers. The only respite is a pub crawl through North Beach.

The 1st place I ever had my signature sidecar cocktail was at Rose Pistola. And it's still the best, if only for the memorabilia. Too much cheer later and we exit through the back door only to see Tony Nik's right across the street. Comfy, casual, cool. So much so that it garners a repeat the next night with an introduction to the "dark and stormy". But one of our favorite watering holes is the Cafe Meuse run by our friend Eric Meuse. It's a quaint spot on the corner of Hyde and Pacific, on the cable car line, boasting a palatable wine menu, small plates and homemade desserts. The last time we were in town Eric was giving a Chilean wine tasting and many of Damon's old friends turned out to pay a visit. Our friend joshes that he's a rock star on that corner.

Man cannot live on liquor alone so it's lucky that SF is also a culinary mecca. The lobster bisque at Hyde St. Seafood and Raw Bar will leave your head spinning. Their specialty is Dungeness crab and other fresh catch prepared en papillote (cooked in parchment paper). The garlic blossom at Liverpool Lil's in the Marina will render you unapproachable for a week and if you take in the French Onion soup loaded with cheese so will be the toilet bowl. The cheese pizza at North Beach Pizza, sauce and crust perfectly complimentary, soaks up any excess alcohol you may have imbibed. As SF is walkable there are restaurants on every block, many of them exceptional. Bix is one such place downtown in the Financial District. Located in an alley illuminated by only a small sign indicating it's exclusivity, Bix takes you back to another era. Posh art deco decor, decadent continental menu and nightly jazz makes this modern day supper club such a hot spot that reservations well in advance are compulsory.

Years ago some friends introduced us to a Vietnamese restaurant called the Slanted Door which was somewhere out near the Castro. This may have been my first experience with Vietnamese food and it's now one of my favorite genres. They have since moved to the Ferry Building down on the Embarcadero, which has become a popular spot for specialty shops and restaurants. I had never been before so I walked down from Union Square while my friend was working planning on getting some pho. It was a gorgeous afternoon on the bay - warm and only slightly breezy. Boats and ships puttered in the harbor, farmer's were out for market and the place was bustling. With so many choices, Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant being one of them, I opted instead for a glass of California Pinot accompanied by a platter of Cow Girl Creamery cheese and epi baguette from Acme Bread. Oh so delish.

The Occupy San Fransisco encampment was right across the street so I felt obligated to at least walk through it. My first impression was that that these people are NOT the 99%. Not even close. These dirty, dread locked, pot smoking hippie types represent only a small opportunistic fraction of the percentile touting the Fuck Wall Street agenda And Their Washington Cronies too. Admittedly it was the tail end of the national movement but by then the message was diluted (and deluded).

My latest infatuation in San Fransisco is the Kabuki Springs bath house in Japantown, near Pacific Heights. Step inside and be transported. You can feel your heart rate slow and worldly concerns melt away. Strip down - this is not an experience for the modest - and enter the communal relaxation room of slate covered floors, warm teak ceilings, and diffused lighting. Essential aromas envelop and caress you as do the gentle ambient sounds of the ancient orient. Every appointment is perfectly placed and well designed. It's modern, classy and spic 'n span - not dodgy like some other baths. Pots of hot peppermint tea and cool water surrounded by bowls of ice, lemon, cucumber and mint can be spotted throughout the room. An icy dunking pool is strategically placed amid chaise lounge chairs, and jacuzzi at center with sauna and steam rooms on the perimeter of one end, bathing stations and showers on the other completes the space. Zen is a good word in sum.

My friend lives adjacent to Union Square above Cafe Royale and we endearingly refer to it as her living room. Despite the bartender's "I'm too sexy for my shirt" flippant attitude this is a great place to linger over a pint from a decent selection of local micro-brews. Each month various Bay area performing artists entertain. From poetry readings to Jazz quartets there's performance art practically every night of the week behind a gallery wall featuring local artists' works. No cover.

Journaling over a stiff and frothy cappuccino at Cafe Trieste rounds out a nice morning. It's a high traffic coffee house in North Beach and table sharing is common which makes it really convenient for meeting people and finding out what their weekend was like. I love this kind of vibe because you share ideas, discover things you didn't know and voila your next trip is already planned!

Th "G" Spot

Somehow I got wind that it was going to be a glorious hot weekend out in the desert so I got the idea to spend Thanksgiving weekend in Palm Springs. Of course we do just about everything willy nilly so I started calling around on Tuesday for rooms on Thursday through Sunday. Unexpectedly, everything even remotely close to town for a reasonable rate was booked. I guess people would rather forgo the family drama and give thanks in a more unconventional way. I gave up after calling every boutique hotel in town. On Friday afternoon I was depressed and not looking forward to a slew of chores staring me down at home so we packed our bathing suits and took off, come what may. I figured it'd be a nice road trip even if we had to turn around and come home. Lo and behold, things have changed and there's room at the inn. I'm starting to feel like Jesus, or at least lucky.

The desert is so alluring to me with its dramatic landscape and starry skies I forget that unless you have your own party (which is difficult to rally when you do everything spontaneously) it's dead boring. Palm Springs is literally the G spot - geriatrics and gays galore. Forget impromptu pool side parties. So you end up frying yourself to a crisp in the sun and then going to bed when the sun goes down. Well almost. There are fantastic hiking trails, biking paths and plenty of shopping. It's the mid-century modern furniture and design mecca. We thoroughly enjoyed the restaurants: amazing wood-fired artisan pizzas at Matchbox, grass-fed Venison and farmer's market menu at Zin, and cool cocktails and affordable bites at Lulu. I can effuse with certainty that THE BEST COCKTAIL in recent history is the zintini, made with vodka, cucumber and pineapple juices, topped with mint sprigs and a twist. Yum!

Fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and a warm (half-baked!) friendly staff define The Chase as a low-key, unpretentious alternative to some of the other hotels in the desirable Tennis Club neighborhood - eh hum, The Viceroy. The location is unbeatable if you want to walk downtown and the mountain vistas are incredible shielding the beautiful pool from typical desert winds, although in winter the sun disappears behind them around 3:30 pm.

While not the raucous destination as some other desert towns there's something rejuvenating about this melanoma oasis what with the blistering sun and cool cocktails that always hits the spot. ;)

Firsts

I've done and seen a lot of things bu not everything. And this weekend I witnessed a couple of fascinating things I'd never seen before.

First first:
I saw the glow of plankton as the waves curled over the shoreline just after sunset. It looks like there's hundreds of blue neon lights under the ocean. It is a phenomonal chemical reaction taking place in the plankton called bioluminescence and it is a sight to behold.

Second first:
I saw pigeons humping. Like copulation in much of the animal kingdom it was a violent act that, although obscured by a bush, drew our attention because of the furious flapping and flattering of wings accompanied by screeching.