Los Angeles - SLO - Daly City

It's odd to realize that Santa Barbara is only two hours from Lakewood.  Felt like a lot longer, and where is all that traffic going on a Sunday afternoon?  We realized as we left LA that we didn't have to be in Northern Cal until mid afternoon so we took the sort of scenic route.  It's actually not all that pretty til  you get past Santa Barbara, and the hills become empty and green and the traffic ceases to be white-knuckled.  Man, those Angelinos drive so close to each other and I simply do not trust them to not scoot stealthily into my lane, ignoring my presence and thus annihilating me and my passengers.  And yes, of course, I am just being a big baby, but there you have it.

From SB to San Luis Obispo (SLO) the ride is nice, and it was there we spent the night, much to the dogs delight.  Good rooms, really decent food delivered to our door from a sort of Waiters-on-Wheels service.  You can sit around and drink whiskey from the bottle and wait for the food fairy to arrive.  (We actually used glasses this time, how civilized!)  The drive north from there this morning (four hours to SF in case you were wondering) was lovely, sunny, warm, beautiful until we hit San Jose where the all-encompassing fog appeared.  But a good ride, a good week-long road trip with some good stops.  I would heartily recommend it, get on the road.

Tom and I were talking about that very subject.  Most of us live in a small bubble, in our small towns, in our small lives.  We venture out now and then but usually with a specific destination in mind and therefore we don't really do much wandering about.  But it's that aimless wandering about that gets us into towns or abandoned areas that we never see if we take the direct route.  There is so much poverty and desolation even in California that you cannot imagine unless you hit the small back roads.  It is even worse in places like north-west Texas.

And you ask "why do I want to see that?"  The reason is this:  because as much as we sort of know it is there, we do not really know it until we see it up close and personal.  Just as we "know" about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, how many people have read a book about either of those wars?  How many of my faithful followers (and I love you all) have read THE GOOD SOLDIERS by David Finkel  or WAR by Sebastian Junger?  These books should be required reading before you can vote next time.  And seeing the small towns of California that once were and no longer are, seeing their remains, seeing mile after mile of what once was is important.  If for no other reason than to put our lives in perspective.  We are lucky.  Our work has paid off, we don't live in a shack.

OK. OK.  I am once again getting on the soap box.  But I really, really like driving around America and some of what I see is so incredibly awe inspiring and some is so incredibly sad.  Maybe that's why I like it.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  Seeing mouth-dropping gorgeous scenery after miles of road-side despair.  

Thanks for reading.  More tomorrow.  

Los Angeles, or lost angles

A quick post, here in Lakewood, suburb of LA, on Saturday, on a day that was actually summer.  85 degrees in mid-January.  How odd, and if that ain't LA, nothing is.  Spending a little time with one of my cadre of brothers, reading, walking the dog, cooking for John, chatting, playing Scrabble, drinking really good wine...... you know, all the things that make life worthwhile.  If it wasn't for the weather, one might actually like it here.

Back on the road tomorrow.  I'll be with you then.

On the Road: Barstow to Mojave to Palm Springs

Ok, I know many of you did not believe in the Bun Boy Motel. Here it is, in case you are ever in Baker, just 60 miles east of Barstow. And  look!  There is actually a car there, someone is in a room!  How frightening but perhaps blackmail could be lucrative here....  we can get that license plate and call them about their activities at the Bun Boy.  

Here is what I have to say about Barstow:  it makes Bakersfield look really, really nice and safe and lovely and we all know that Bakersfield is rather depressed and lonely.  Barstow is very scary and sad.  But as Tom pointed out, it isn't Barstow's fault.  All the services and businesses that would have benefited the city are gone.  What is left is the corporatization of a freeway town.  From my crappy room last night I counted 11 fast food places and 4 other crappy motels.  The money is going to big corporations  because they are the ones who are doing business there, exploiting the fact that the city is on a major freeway and negating the fact that people need to have a place to work, eat, shop that does not rely on huge mega businesses.  So the people are forced to work for all the motels and fast food places or get out of town. Or rob and steal. 

OK, I stop the diatribe here. 

We have had a great time in the new Jeep, dirt roads, paved roads, pockmarked roads, and we have seen amazing lands in Mojave National Desert, and really sad lands outside of that.  But here we are now, in Palm Springs, neither of us have been here before, and it is a lovely setting.  Tall mountains and lots of palm trees, can't beat it.  Great rooms on the close fringe of the really ritzy part of town, dogs are happy and so are we.

Desert:  quite beautiful, dirt roads and all.

Snow:  here is one from the days before when it was 14 degrees.    And by the way, today in Palm Springs it was 74 degrees.  Gotta love the fact that weather does what it wants, we are simply bowing to its power.

Over and out for now.

On the Road: Bridgeport, Bishop, Barstow

Out in the country, internet and phone connection not always great but here we are now.  From SF over 50 on Sunday, beautiful, traffic flowing the other way, none on our side. Down to Bridgeport and friggin cold, found the only motel open, morning the temp was 14.  That is 14, 18 degrees below freezing.  We walked the dogs, very quickly and got into the car and drove down 395, the sun was out and the snow covered landscape glittered.  The small amount of snow falling also glittered.  It was still 14 degrees but it was so beautiful.  

When I was a kid, the road up 395 from LA to Tom's Place, Lake Crowley, June Lake was our vacation. If Dad came up with enough cash we would hit the road. If not, we wouldn't.  I got really good at holding up the envelopes to the light and reading the amount through the paper and thus figuring out if we could go or not.  Sometimes it took two or three or five or ten days for the check my Dad was waiting for, but once it arrived, we were on the road.  Six kids, two parents, an old Chevy, we were off.  But that was then.

We are here now.  Tom and I took a couple of side roads, drove to Independence and realized that Bishop was the place to stay for the night, so back through Big Pine, back to Bishop.  Fine.  Left this morning and drove south 395 to 190, over up and down into Death Valley, my ears killing me (head cold) and through the valley, south on 190 to 127.  More than amazing, the desert is full of color and life and land formations that are unreal and surreal.  I realize that many people think Death Valley is, well, boring, but it is anything but that.  Gorgeous, multicolored and layered and incredibly textured.  

But our plans to spend the night in Baker, on the edge of Mohave Desert National Park, were dashed because there is nothing in Baker.  Well, there is the Bun Boy Motel (I am so not kidding) and it looked as sleazy as it sounds.  Tom and I both said to each other "and why wouldn't you just sleep in your car" if that was the only option.  And you would.

So, on to Barstow.  Even here the motels are creepy.  We are at Ramada Inn, must be at least 300 rooms, corridor is carpeted but stained and creepy.  Rooms are OK, at least clean.

So, Bridgeport-Bishop-Barstow. That was our route for the last couple of days. Tomorrow, Mojave Desert, perhaps.  You will be the first to know.  Thanks for following.  

I said to Tom today that I really didn't care about getting a job.  I simply want to get some money so I can go see things.  So much to see, so little money, such a small window of opportunity.  Really, it's the truth: send me out on the road, give me a tank of gas, let me drive and I will write about it and I will be happy.

More tomorrow. We might end up in Palm Springs. But maybe not.  If so, you will hear about it.  

Resumes, rejection, retreat

OK, this is rather sad.  I have sent out, via email, over 25 resumes and cover letters in the last three days and do I get many responses?  No!  I received one response, ten seconds after I submitted a six page application, telling me I wasn't qualified.  I received three other responses telling me that due to the high volume of responses I shouldn't expect a reply unless I fit the profile perfectly.  In other words, don't call us, we'll call you.  Actually, many of the sites that list the name of the employer do say that:  Do Not Contact Us Directly.

Should I be dismayed?  Am I dismayed?  I am not sure. I want a job and I need a job.  Hmmm, to tell you the truth I don't really WANT a job.  I want the paycheck. I don't mind living the life of slothfulness and not answering to a boss, but the lack of funds is a serious issue.  I wake up in the middle of the night, or I often am struck with panic in the middle of the day, thinking:  what will I do if I don't have a job by the end of May?

Additionally, I am in a state of mind where I cannot for the love of anything make a decision.  It comes down to this:  I do not know what I should be doing right now.  I honestly don't know how I should be living my life, what steps I should take to further my job search, where I should go, when I should simply hit the road.  I almost feel as if I am in a state of suspended animation but I know that is not the case because I am animated.  Not suspended, but actually living and breathing. I sort of wish I was suspended, in a block of clear acrylic, like a wasp from the Mesolithic Era.  At least then I wouldn't have this sense of ennui and indecision.

But I took one positive step today, maybe a foolish one (so some will say) for an unemployed person.  I ordered a French language course through Rosetta Stone, one of the best at-home language courses you can buy.  Why?  Because I want to learn some French, of course. Why?  Because I want to go to France, of course.  Why?  Because it is not here and they have really good bread and wine and cheese there.
I don't have an answer, I did it because I wanted to.

I may be back on the road in the next couple of days, stay tuned for upcoming events.

Job Apps

Just so you don't think I am sitting around all day collecting my unemployment check, watching soap operas and eating bon-bons, I am reporting in on my day.  After walking the dogs earlly this morning and then venturing out to buy a new calendar for this new year, I spent all afternoon on the computer answering job postings.  Hours and hours of composing snappy cover letters, editing my resume to fit the job profile, visiting web sites to see what sort of company I was applying to.  Often the job posting would make me go directly to the company web site and fill out a very lengthy (and boring) application, listing each and every job I have ever had since I was twelve years old.  I often got half-way through the process and decided that if the company really wanted to hire me, I really would never want to work for them.  I mean, come on.  A job I had forty years ago?  How pertinent can that be at this point?

I am quite hopeful that tomorrow there will be dozens of email responses and my cell phone will be chirping off the hook, potential employers clamoring for me, willing to engage in a wage war just to be the lucky one to hire me!  I can hardly wait. 

But seriously folks, it would be nice if at least one of them responded.  Oh, I take that back, one of them did respond within 30 seconds of my submitting my 5 page job application.  They responded negatively, informing me that I did not have the qualifications they were looking for at this time.  I love that part:  at this time.  As if they will be looking for the qualifications I have at some other time.  Ha!

If I was a believer, I would pray.  Since I'm not, I will just hope.

New Year?

Oddly, this new year looks a lot like the last old one. But it's early yet, and we have lots of time before our new hopes get dashed on the hard, cold stones of reality.  Gosh, that sounds so cynical. It seems too early in the year for such an attitude, I must get mine adjusted somewhere. What I need is a chiropractor for the psyche.  Someone who can gently crack my mental spine and realign it for the future.  Someone who knows where the psychological pressure points are and how much pressure to apply.  Otherwise I might spend the next year in a state of maladjusted, overwrought unhappiness.

Could be worse.  I could have a job I hated and couldn't quit and therefore be living in a time-hellish-continuum.  At least I don't have that to deal with.  And hey, it is the beginning of a new year. While I cannot find a truly pithy thing to say about the new year, I can at least admit that we have all made it this far, and 2012 is the Armageddon of years, according to some, so let's all try to get through this one and see what we find along the way. 

As always, thanks for reading and more to follow.