Travels: Palm Springs-Santa Monica-Santa Barbara- Tecopa

"Did you talk to the man camping out next to the mud bath, next to his broken down truck ?" Jule asks. "No, I didn't. The truck is still there. Koreans were also there when I drove past."

Jule accompanies me while I am inside the hostel quarters, almost all hours of the day. Perhaps, that is actually his job at the hostel. He is from France and wears an orange cap and pink pants. He has provided many suggestions on how I spend my day.

One might think that the Tecopa, California hostel, near Death Valley would be a place to get work done. Actually, it probably is. But, there are characters here, who demand your attention, and they make sure there is not too much silence, and not too much uninterrupted thought.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz." an oven demands. (Jule has set a timer.) Another guest arrives. My plans can wait.

Palm Springs was a hangout of Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra. That image lives on, as streets are named after them. Barry Manilow and Gerald Ford still hang out in this town where half of the land is golf courses and swimming pools. Parking is "valet only" at "The Ranch."

Nonetheless, I meet serious people, doing business development, and technology. Imagine a Hollywood setting with Tom Hanks, Hillary Swank, up and comers, and some never-will-bes. All wear stylish clothes, even though the event is labeled business casual. All have titles like CEO, Venture Capitalist, or Technology Transfer Agent. Will blockbuster businesses like Yahoo or Google develop? Or, will Nanotechnology generate bombs for a while longer? It depends on the advancement of the technology, but even more than on the special effects budget, I think it depends on the assembled talent.

I bring my microphone and interview those who will let me. It sure seems that these Capitalists have a drive to succeed, much like budding actresses, who still today, pack up for Hollywood. I will soon get around to working on radio pieces from the interviews.

The first priority in Tecopa is mud baths. My lifestyle normally keeps me clothed, but in Tecopa, everyone goes to the public bath and disrobes into 108 F natural hot springs or into slightly hotter outdoor mud.

Another mandatory activity is to see Marta Becket, who at age 81, performs ballet and old-style vaudevillian comedy, with Tom Willet, from her Opera House, in Death Valley Junction. Her performance is a testimony to will, as performing on one's toes is not a typical senior exercise.

Marta also painted this Opera House, here, in the middle of nowhere.

Depending on your perspective, Marta has either constructed a unique reality or is living in her own fantasy world. I feel that her oasis is as real as nearby China Ranch. Marta has spirit that a venture capitalist would die for.

Santa Monica is where street bums have angel investors, and aluminum colored, reflective, Eddie Bauer sleeping bags. Harry Shearer refers to Santa Monica as the home of the homeless. I almost envied these homeless, asleep at 10 pm, a block from the ocean, in such nice weather.

The drive from Santa Monica to Santa Barbara along 101 is scenic, with a gorgous sky, ocean and mountains. It only takes two hours before I meet my aunt and uncle. We pick oranges, eat good meals, work on the computer, watch Oprah interview Desparate Housewives, watch Fox News interview Michael Jackson, and watch the Lakers on television. As Oprah lives in Montecito (an adjacent town) and Michael has been indicted by the Santa Barbara County prosecutor, each of these televised activities is truly local.

I would like television a lot more if my favorite local talk show hosts and favorite local musicians were on it more often. So far, Miltant Children's Hour and Dead Hensons (of the Bay Area) have avoided the cameras. But, maybe Monica and Caveman will fix St. Paul with their "Molecules of Hipness" cable access show.

The next morning, I leave my aunt and uncle with lots of Costco water for the desert, a highlighted AAA map of California, and several fresh oranges.

My tasks have waited until Bakersfield. There are no interruptions here at the Motel 6.

The Midpines hostel, near Yosemite, is next.

Labels: travel