December, 1998
Chapter 7
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Time for a little R & R - Leaving L.A. I stopped in Irvine to take care of some business. It was Saturday and I had to burn up the weekend, so I went looking for a story. I've wanted to do a piece on a Christmas tree lot and I found a good one for a subject; I met a man named Eric Johnson, who, with his brother has been selling trees around here for 19 years. I asked him if I could stay a couple of days, work the lot a little and be on my way. He loved the idea, but had a hard time letting me work without paying me - the heck with the journalistic conflict. Well, I worked off and on for a couple of days, and I even gave a lecture to a journalism class at Irvine Valley College. I was about to leave when Eric told me about how next weekend is his big weekend and he could sure use the help and would I please stay until Monday? Always one to pitch in when needed, I said sure. Besides, I already have another story researched and this will give me a chance to get it out. This will give me a few days of not worrying about where I'm going to sleep at night, and this will give me an actual home for a little while, with some familiar surroundings, familiar faces and good people to earn some friendships with. So I'm going to spend a few days lugging Christmas trees around, slogging water hoses, building stands and keeping this lot running in tip-top shape. Friends, I'm going to take the next few days off.
Date: December 15, 1998 Location: Escondido, California Recent Stops: Irvine Next Stop: Arizona or New Mexico Mileage so far: 15,427 Notes: - I just want to thank the Johnsons for letting me stay on their lot for 10 days while I cranked out three articles, including one about the lot. Also, they have a great group of people working for them. It's nice to stay in one place for a while. You get to know the surroundings, like where the good restaurants are, and you even bump into new friends around town. And when you leave, people actually let you believe that they'll miss you. I guess I should try and stay in places for more than a day at a time - it sure is good on the soul. Kids Say the Smartest Things - I had been working on a story on a Christmas tree lot for over a week, staying in my camper on the lot. On Sunday, Michelle, one of the owner's children, kept stopping by my trailer, peeking in and bothering me with nosey questions - like any eight year old does so well. I have grown rather distant from youth, a situation in which I never expected to be, and would rather not stay, so I relaxed and entertained this girl - or she entertained me. After several questions which had no apparent logical answer, she asked; "don't you get bored working all the time? You are in here all day!" You should get out and play. I sighed one of those adult sighs and realized that she was right. I got out, all right, and I went to see a movie - not everybody's idea of playing, but I sure enjoyed it. At the theater I met a guy who had a role in one of the original Star Trek episodes ("Charlie X" he said, filmed in 1968.) He was "the guy in the red shirt who died." I'll be leaving California today (Dec 15.) At least, that's the plan. I've been here over two weeks and it's time to move on. Expect to hear from me in New Mexico somewhere.
I rolled into Bisbee about an hour before sundown on Friday and realized that, even though I was only a few tortilla shells from the Mexican border, I was over 3,000 feet up and it was going to be a very cold night. The place is lousy with nice B&Bs and I decided to hatch a plan I'd been concocting for some time.
Having worked in marketing small hotels in the Caribbean for several years (where I learned to never refer to a place as "lousy with nice B&Bs") I realize the value of the internet to these people, and I figured that with my digital camera and marketing experience, I might have something I could offer them - at least something worth a room for the night.
So I went to a few of these beautiful inns (this really is a nice place to visit) with little luck, except for the High Desert Inn, which had a full house, but Darrell Lee Dixon shook my hand and gave me the encouragement I needed. I then stopped at the fun-spirited Inn at Castle Rock, where the owner, Jeannene Babcock let me stay the night in one of her finest rooms. "I would have given you the room even without the photographs" she told me later.
I stayed two nights here and gave her some nice photos. Apparently, they are just what she needed at this time in her marketing campaign, and I am wondering if other B&Bs will have this need. So, I am developing a little program where I can hopefully make at least one of these deals each week, and get in an occasional shower, a warm room and a comfortable bed. Staying at a B&B is also a great way to meet people in the community.
Kindness Pays (and unkindness don't) - I was a good forty miles out of Laredo when I felt the sharp sting of my own selfishness. About an hour before, I was in a burger joint, finishing up my lunch, when a woman came by and dumped some key chains on my table. As she continued across the restaurant, I read the note attached; "I am deaf and am selling this product to make a living..." She wanted two dollars for each item. Well, I have no use for more key chains, but I actually considered just giving her a buck - she was working hard, not just begging for money. I left the restaurant without helping her at all, and it wasn't until I nearly reached Bruni, almost an hour away, when I felt the sting. Had I given the woman a dollar, I would have looked inside my empty wallet and realized that, when I gave the cashier a twenty for a 99 cent burger, she did not give me any change.
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View from the "world's shortest incline," a thirty-second ride that will cost you only a quarter. Hop on this trolley a few blocks from the L.A. Times building, in downtown Los Angeles.
They tell me that during WWII, U.S. soldiers were exposed to mustard gas. As a consolation, they were offered free land out here in Wonder Valley, near Twentynine Palms, California. All the soldier had to do was "improve the land" in some way. For some reason, few of the men who were given land out here chose to live here, and many just built shacks like this one, to qualify for the land, and they lived elsewhere. So now, when you pass through Wonder Valley, you see a hundred abandoned shacks and wonder where all the people are.
# 51. 
# 52. 
The early morning smog crashes upon the Los Angeles shore. Still, not a bad view from my campsight between LAX and the Pacific ocean.
Is that Santa delivering a Christmas tree on a big ol' Harley?
# 53. 
# 54. 
I Might Have Been - This trip is full of opportunities; some lost, some gained. Every time I pass through a city or town, I feel as though I missed something. Today I walked into a classic, old general store, with beautiful, rustic fixtures and flooring. I was wandering about, talking with the clerk, a straight-haired blonde about my age, and just relaxing - we were the only two people in the store. A song came on the radio; the latest Garth Brooks song, the one from that Hope Floats movie, the one that could calm any bucking bronco, and I nearly asked the lady behind the counter if she'd like to dance. I thought it would be nice to sway a little, right there on the hardwood floor between the newspaper rack and the Moon Pies. But I walked out of there, fearing rejection, and I left that song, and that person, and that building behind, and I left that moment - that opportunity - right where it was, never to be seen again. It might have been sweet, it might have been fun, but all that I took with me is, it might have been.
Things are Looking Up - I did have a great time in Bisbee, though, thanks to the wonderful people there, including Jeannene Babcock and the crew at the Inn at Castle Rock.
# 55. 
Damage Report - The latest in a series of dings and dents to my person came as I was digging through my camper - looking for who knows what - when the wooden lid of my cargo compartment slipped down on the bridge of my nose. It didn't hurt much, and I didn't think much of it. But for the next week, I'm walking around with this scar on my face - like a Rocky Balboa wannabe - and feeling kind of silly. It's odd how nobody dares point it out. Though I've often heard; "Man, what happened to your arm!" I've not heard; "Great nose job!" At least nobody wants to pick a fight with me...
# 56. 
Paul Gavan owns the Dryden Merchantile, in Dryden, Texas, northeast of the big bend, where I stopped in for a while to warm my hands. "In the summer, we get a lot of bicycles through here - I let them camp behind the store."
# 57. 
to November, 1998 ..... To January, 1999.
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