Part 1 of last weekend
It’s been some time since I last wrote, and I do not want more time to pass before I forget anything that happened recently.
Thursday, April 13
ThumbSucker turned 32... Happy birthday. We started the day extremely early, waking up at 3:15 a.m. Why? Because our flight would depart at 6:05 a.m., and Super Shuttle would pick us up at 3:55 a.m. We could have taken a cab, but they are unreliable early in the morning. And a car service would cost nearly $100 for a 10-mile drive. Super Shuttle was a deal at $30 for the two of us. And prompt it was. At the strike of 3:55 a.m., the blue van with yellow letters arrived in front of the loft building.
United Airlines customer service peeps were not helpful in the least. Then again, we didn’t expect them to be chipper at 4:30 a.m. Who would be?
At any rate, after finally checking-in, and getting through security, we waited at the terminal gate until 5:35 a.m. to board the plane. I forget the plane we flew, but it was cramped! The entire flight, both ThumbSucker and I felt like sardines. I’d say I’m not grossly overweight, but I sure wonder about larger people and how they manage to contain themselves in their seat without offending others.
At 7:20 a.m. we landed at LAX. Goodness, Los Angeles was all day compared to San Francisco’s all night weather. It was eye-piercing sunny, and mid-70s. It beat the rain we had for last three week. Nearly everyone I knew caught a cold of some sort.
At any rate, everyone, EVERYONE was chipper. Almost disturbingly chipper. I immediately remembered that we were now in entertainment industry land, not Silicon Valley.
The bus we rode to the car rental station was immaculately clean! V-Dub once told me you are expected to drive a clean car in Southern California. “You have no excuse to not clean your car,” said another friend. It’s a So Cal thing I guess. “Your car is an extension of who you are,” yet another friend once told me.
By 7:45 a.m., we had the keys to a new shiny dark blue Chevrolet Malibu MAXX, the five-door lift back model. It’s not a bad drive, but it is too slushy for my taste.
We had to kill time, so we drove north to Manhattan Beach for breakfast. ThumbSucker had a ham/onion/mushroom ommie. I had a shrimp ommie. Both were tasty.
At 9:00 a.m., I had my first of two meetings for the day. One down, one more to go.
We drove south on the 405, then south on 710 to downtown Long Beach. At 10:30 a.m., we checked into the hotel. In the parking garage, I noticed at least 20 cars with an Alpha Kappa Alpha license plate frame. I was excited, and hoped to see stepping routines. Alas, it was an old alumni gathering. No stepping would be seen.
Once we got to the room, we passed out. We were beat, so we napped for nearly an hour. At Noon, I had my second meeting. 15 minutes later, I was done. We napped longer, and woke up at around 3:00 p.m. We got ready, and went to see the Queen Mary. Damn it is a huge ship. Afterwards, we drove to Melrose Avenue. But en route we were caught in nasty, nasty traffic. Among other reasons, this is the primary reason I could not live in Los Angeles. However, I must say that at least 90 percent of LA drivers use their signal lights to indicate a lane change. I’d say the San Francisco Bay Area comes in at less than 50 percent.
We parked far from where we needed to go on Melrose Avenue, but the walking was good. We past a lot of home design and furniture shops. Goodness, San Francisco has nothing compare to selection. Heck, San Francisco doesn’t compare to New York. Does that mean we suck? Hell no. New York and Los Angeles are two extremes, neither of which I could live in. However, I could see myself living in New York before I could Los Angeles. I’m not down with fake and an entertainment reality.
So after some window shopping (because most of the stores were closed), we walked back to the car, and drove east to West Hollywood, the gay side of town. Another reason I could not live in So Cal is the gay guys have way too much ‘tude. It’s really not very becoming. It’s not just ‘tude, but super ‘tude. I can explain it. But it’s not attractive. It takes SF diva ‘tude, and blows it out of the water. So after absorbing more local ‘tude, we had dinner. I wanted to take ThumbSucker to some place nice, but everything was closed, or you had to dress swanky, or you had to make reservations months in advance. At 9:30 p.m. we were starved, and ready to eat dinnerware. We came across a snooty restaurant where everyone looked as if they recently left the spa. Incredible. We both ordered cheeseburgers and Diet Cokes. Damn, the burger was tasty. After dinner, we drove back to the hotel, and called it a night.
Friday, April 14
Today we were supposed to go to Disneyland, but because it started to rain, we drove east to Palm Springs. Palm Springs is beautiful, but hot, dry and everyone looks as if they are retired. ThumbSucker loves Palm Springs. He loves the desert. I’ll pass. I definitely could not live out here. ThumbSucker immediately tried to sell me on buying a place out there. Hell no!
We walked along the downtown strip, and came across the Prudential California Realty office. And surprise, surprise. ThumbSucker’s old work bud who moved to Palm Springs two years ago from San Francisco was there. We have the same name, and the same initials. Goodness, he bought his house in Palm Springs in 2000 for $390K, and according to 47-year-old Taggart (who doesn’t look a day past 42), it recently appraised at just more than $900K. Insane! Then again, ThumbSucker bought a 900-square foot loft for $415K in 2004, and exactly two years later it’s going for $650K. Goodness.
At any rate, we promised to meet Taggart for drinks later in the evening. We decided to stay the night as Palm Springs was dry, and we didn’t want to drink and drive all the way back to Long Beach, a.k.a. the LBC. After securing toiletries at the local Rite-Aid and a room at Howard Johnson, we were set. We got ready, and drove to Taggert’s home. I dig his place. Modern, manageable, impeccably clean and organized. Goodness, his closets are perfectly arranged. Taggart is the a priori of anal retentive. I love it! Everything is modern and Feng Shui-compliant.
Also at Taggart’s place was his buddy Paul. Taggart is pretty well connected in Palm Springs. He’s sold and bought homes on behalf of many peeps in town. At any rate, Taggart grew up in Mastic Beach/Shirley in Long Island, New York. Harriet the Spy told me about them Mastic Beach peeps, so ‘nuff said. However, Taggart is all refined. His friend Paul grew up in Manhasset. Paul and his partner split their time between homes in Palm Springs, San Francisco and Guerneville. After working at BofA in IT for years, he retired three years ago. So they travel up and down California, wherever the weather is most favorable and conducive to relaxing.
After a few drinks, ThumbSucker and I were ready to see Palm Spring’s gay scene. Keep in mind that this weekend just happened to be White Party Spring Break. But also keep in mind that ThumbSucker and Taggart are far from circuit boys, and my circuit boy clubbing days are long gone…
First, we went to Wang’s, the place to go and be seen on Friday nights. By the time we arrived, everyone left, and it was just a dinner crowd. After a couple beers at Wang’s, we left for some karaoke joint. Oh man, this was crazy. ThumbSucker and I were the youngest at 30 and 32, and had everyone beat by 25 to 35 years, easy. But as I mentioned earlier, nearly every Palm Springs resident is retired. And Taggart knows a lot of them. We met a guy who is heir to the Kellogg cereal family. Nice as ever. However, one of his friends groped me. *shudder* I felt gross, but didn’t feel like kicking his ass as I knew he was harmless. I just made a funny face to ThumbSucker to indicate that I was not digging the place. Happyrock would dig Palm Springs… He likes late-30s to 40s, muscle guys.
After that place, we walked across the street to another karaoke joint. Hey, what else are you going to do when you retire? Taggert got on the mic a few times. Damn he was good. He sang Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind” and “Rocket Man,” my favorite Elton song. But he tore it up when he sang Neil Diamond’s “September Morn.” Think William Shatner, but damn good. He had the crowd going! This turned out to be an entertaining night beyond expectation. So after a few more beers, we decided to call it quits. When you’re all beered-up, there is only one thing left to do. Be responsible. That’s right, it’s time to hit Jack in the Box to make sure you have food in your stomach to absorb the alcohol. After dropping off Taggart, we headed back to the Howard Johnson.
This post is too long. I’ll continue with Saturday, April 15 and Sunday, April 16 in another post in the next coming days. Look forward to Disneyland and Newport Beach and Dana Point.
Thursday, April 13
ThumbSucker turned 32... Happy birthday. We started the day extremely early, waking up at 3:15 a.m. Why? Because our flight would depart at 6:05 a.m., and Super Shuttle would pick us up at 3:55 a.m. We could have taken a cab, but they are unreliable early in the morning. And a car service would cost nearly $100 for a 10-mile drive. Super Shuttle was a deal at $30 for the two of us. And prompt it was. At the strike of 3:55 a.m., the blue van with yellow letters arrived in front of the loft building.
United Airlines customer service peeps were not helpful in the least. Then again, we didn’t expect them to be chipper at 4:30 a.m. Who would be?
At any rate, after finally checking-in, and getting through security, we waited at the terminal gate until 5:35 a.m. to board the plane. I forget the plane we flew, but it was cramped! The entire flight, both ThumbSucker and I felt like sardines. I’d say I’m not grossly overweight, but I sure wonder about larger people and how they manage to contain themselves in their seat without offending others.
At 7:20 a.m. we landed at LAX. Goodness, Los Angeles was all day compared to San Francisco’s all night weather. It was eye-piercing sunny, and mid-70s. It beat the rain we had for last three week. Nearly everyone I knew caught a cold of some sort.
At any rate, everyone, EVERYONE was chipper. Almost disturbingly chipper. I immediately remembered that we were now in entertainment industry land, not Silicon Valley.
The bus we rode to the car rental station was immaculately clean! V-Dub once told me you are expected to drive a clean car in Southern California. “You have no excuse to not clean your car,” said another friend. It’s a So Cal thing I guess. “Your car is an extension of who you are,” yet another friend once told me.
By 7:45 a.m., we had the keys to a new shiny dark blue Chevrolet Malibu MAXX, the five-door lift back model. It’s not a bad drive, but it is too slushy for my taste.
We had to kill time, so we drove north to Manhattan Beach for breakfast. ThumbSucker had a ham/onion/mushroom ommie. I had a shrimp ommie. Both were tasty.
At 9:00 a.m., I had my first of two meetings for the day. One down, one more to go.
We drove south on the 405, then south on 710 to downtown Long Beach. At 10:30 a.m., we checked into the hotel. In the parking garage, I noticed at least 20 cars with an Alpha Kappa Alpha license plate frame. I was excited, and hoped to see stepping routines. Alas, it was an old alumni gathering. No stepping would be seen.
Once we got to the room, we passed out. We were beat, so we napped for nearly an hour. At Noon, I had my second meeting. 15 minutes later, I was done. We napped longer, and woke up at around 3:00 p.m. We got ready, and went to see the Queen Mary. Damn it is a huge ship. Afterwards, we drove to Melrose Avenue. But en route we were caught in nasty, nasty traffic. Among other reasons, this is the primary reason I could not live in Los Angeles. However, I must say that at least 90 percent of LA drivers use their signal lights to indicate a lane change. I’d say the San Francisco Bay Area comes in at less than 50 percent.
We parked far from where we needed to go on Melrose Avenue, but the walking was good. We past a lot of home design and furniture shops. Goodness, San Francisco has nothing compare to selection. Heck, San Francisco doesn’t compare to New York. Does that mean we suck? Hell no. New York and Los Angeles are two extremes, neither of which I could live in. However, I could see myself living in New York before I could Los Angeles. I’m not down with fake and an entertainment reality.
So after some window shopping (because most of the stores were closed), we walked back to the car, and drove east to West Hollywood, the gay side of town. Another reason I could not live in So Cal is the gay guys have way too much ‘tude. It’s really not very becoming. It’s not just ‘tude, but super ‘tude. I can explain it. But it’s not attractive. It takes SF diva ‘tude, and blows it out of the water. So after absorbing more local ‘tude, we had dinner. I wanted to take ThumbSucker to some place nice, but everything was closed, or you had to dress swanky, or you had to make reservations months in advance. At 9:30 p.m. we were starved, and ready to eat dinnerware. We came across a snooty restaurant where everyone looked as if they recently left the spa. Incredible. We both ordered cheeseburgers and Diet Cokes. Damn, the burger was tasty. After dinner, we drove back to the hotel, and called it a night.
Friday, April 14
Today we were supposed to go to Disneyland, but because it started to rain, we drove east to Palm Springs. Palm Springs is beautiful, but hot, dry and everyone looks as if they are retired. ThumbSucker loves Palm Springs. He loves the desert. I’ll pass. I definitely could not live out here. ThumbSucker immediately tried to sell me on buying a place out there. Hell no!
We walked along the downtown strip, and came across the Prudential California Realty office. And surprise, surprise. ThumbSucker’s old work bud who moved to Palm Springs two years ago from San Francisco was there. We have the same name, and the same initials. Goodness, he bought his house in Palm Springs in 2000 for $390K, and according to 47-year-old Taggart (who doesn’t look a day past 42), it recently appraised at just more than $900K. Insane! Then again, ThumbSucker bought a 900-square foot loft for $415K in 2004, and exactly two years later it’s going for $650K. Goodness.
At any rate, we promised to meet Taggart for drinks later in the evening. We decided to stay the night as Palm Springs was dry, and we didn’t want to drink and drive all the way back to Long Beach, a.k.a. the LBC. After securing toiletries at the local Rite-Aid and a room at Howard Johnson, we were set. We got ready, and drove to Taggert’s home. I dig his place. Modern, manageable, impeccably clean and organized. Goodness, his closets are perfectly arranged. Taggart is the a priori of anal retentive. I love it! Everything is modern and Feng Shui-compliant.
Also at Taggart’s place was his buddy Paul. Taggart is pretty well connected in Palm Springs. He’s sold and bought homes on behalf of many peeps in town. At any rate, Taggart grew up in Mastic Beach/Shirley in Long Island, New York. Harriet the Spy told me about them Mastic Beach peeps, so ‘nuff said. However, Taggart is all refined. His friend Paul grew up in Manhasset. Paul and his partner split their time between homes in Palm Springs, San Francisco and Guerneville. After working at BofA in IT for years, he retired three years ago. So they travel up and down California, wherever the weather is most favorable and conducive to relaxing.
After a few drinks, ThumbSucker and I were ready to see Palm Spring’s gay scene. Keep in mind that this weekend just happened to be White Party Spring Break. But also keep in mind that ThumbSucker and Taggart are far from circuit boys, and my circuit boy clubbing days are long gone…
First, we went to Wang’s, the place to go and be seen on Friday nights. By the time we arrived, everyone left, and it was just a dinner crowd. After a couple beers at Wang’s, we left for some karaoke joint. Oh man, this was crazy. ThumbSucker and I were the youngest at 30 and 32, and had everyone beat by 25 to 35 years, easy. But as I mentioned earlier, nearly every Palm Springs resident is retired. And Taggart knows a lot of them. We met a guy who is heir to the Kellogg cereal family. Nice as ever. However, one of his friends groped me. *shudder* I felt gross, but didn’t feel like kicking his ass as I knew he was harmless. I just made a funny face to ThumbSucker to indicate that I was not digging the place. Happyrock would dig Palm Springs… He likes late-30s to 40s, muscle guys.
After that place, we walked across the street to another karaoke joint. Hey, what else are you going to do when you retire? Taggert got on the mic a few times. Damn he was good. He sang Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind” and “Rocket Man,” my favorite Elton song. But he tore it up when he sang Neil Diamond’s “September Morn.” Think William Shatner, but damn good. He had the crowd going! This turned out to be an entertaining night beyond expectation. So after a few more beers, we decided to call it quits. When you’re all beered-up, there is only one thing left to do. Be responsible. That’s right, it’s time to hit Jack in the Box to make sure you have food in your stomach to absorb the alcohol. After dropping off Taggart, we headed back to the Howard Johnson.
This post is too long. I’ll continue with Saturday, April 15 and Sunday, April 16 in another post in the next coming days. Look forward to Disneyland and Newport Beach and Dana Point.
posted by E-Double at 11:50 PM
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