Hoofin' it and almost dying in Sedona

Sedona is known for being a spiritual vortex. It's a place of possibly unrivaled beauty, with its lush greenery and high pink, red and orange mountains. This place is like the Sophia Loren of landscapes. I mean, just hubba hubba, gorgeous. 

We, of course, caught nothing but rain throughout the arid southwest. As we neared a damp Sedona, we stopped off (again) at the park ranger welcome center. It was there that we met an elderly man with a crooked face. He instructed us to take a path down to the creek. He said, "it's not a marked trail, because it's technically in a flood zone." It was a half mile each way or maybe a half mile round trip, very short, beautiful, etc. So Chris, Jimmy and I headed down toward the trailhead. 

It was spectacular, even in the drizzling rain and light fog. After walking in a couple hundred feet though, it started to rain a little heavier and Chris turned back to the car. Jimmy and I forged ahead. Made it to the creek in only a few minutes, dawdling. I snapped a few pictures and as we turned to head back. Suddenly the skies opened and dumped upon us much rain. 

We decided to move quickly, following the path we came in on. In no more than 30 seconds, all of the trails turned to streams. Even the other trails that were leading to the one trail we came in on were starting to flood. 

I yelled to Jimmy, "do you know what a flash flood is?" 

He said, "I think it's when the creek floods." 

I think it's actually when the canyon fills with water and becomes a rushing, angry river.  

As Jimmy and I, wet as drowned persian cats, tried to navigate the rushing streams that were quickly joining forces and becoming a network of waterways, I seriously thought we might be totally, entirely, completely, absolutely fucked. 

I suggested we might stay close to the canyon wall, since we're both decent climbers and where we both could get above the water if a deluge came through with too much speed and force. But Jimmy found another trail which led us to a sort of clearing. It didn't look familiar, so he wanted to turn back, but all I saw was dry land. We followed it for a bit and found barbed wire fences and private property signs. At this point, we were 20 minutes out, lost in the rain and more than ready to risk being shot by a one toothed country person in order to avoid drowning. These houses are worth millions, so I was sure they'd at least let us use the phone before they shot us. 

It turned out there was a road and it led to our car, the most beautiful sight of the day. 

Once we made it in the vehicle, about 4 miles of dirt road dipped into rushing waterways, which we forded in order to eat in an overpriced restaurant and to change our clothes. 

Sedona is a city for wealthy people which I envisioned being filled with new age hippies, Birkenstocks and crystals. I think they had a Williams Sonoma there at a fancy adobe looking strip mall. Definitely, I saw a Gap. If I learned nothing else this trip, I learned that wealth will buy you the prettiest part of the state. 

I was pretty traumatized, and things managed to stay crappy because as we left town, our gas light went on, and though we were under 30 miles from Flagstaff, it was 30 miles of winding mountains at 15-30 miles an hour. The thing that most sucked was that the scenery bordering the highway was possibly the most spectacular I've ever witnessed or could imagine. The red mountains, half covered with pines and fog, resembled Middle Earth, or maybe they just looked like heaven on this earth. I thought my pictures could do justice. Couldn't. There were camp grounds along the highway. If I ever go back, I'd camp there, elevated and in the midst of the majestic mountains.

Above was our trail before the rain storm, and below was the trail after.

Middle Earth

Hoofin' it around Phoenix or Scottsdale

Front of Valley Ho

On our way into Arizona, Jimmy decided that he wanted to alter my agenda and add a day in New Mexico. I gave in and added it, but that meant that we had to make some adjustments. As we drove toward Phoenix, dodging slow-moving tractor trailers. I desperately tried to figure out where to stay in this sprawling yet very uncool metropolis. I decided on a really cute looking hotel in Scottsdale called Valley Ho. It turned out to be a very well put together boutique hotel with nice sized pool area, great foliage, well decorated rooms and sweet-smelling cleaning products from Red Flower. Since I did no research on the area, we wandered around looking for something to do that night after a commendable feast at the hotel restaurant. We ended up at a 7-11, which actually sold booze! I guess this is common outside of Florida because bottles of rum and vodka popped up in a ton of western convenience stores. There were signs that night that Scottsdale is probably a gay part of town. By morning, our drive through the "downtown" or "arts district" proved my suspicions. There were many galleries, furniture stores and design shops. It was cute but boring.

The next morning, we tried to go to this breakfast place featured on the Food Network, but it had a line out the door. Instead we wandered around angrily and found a cute Jamaican place called Breadfruit. It was there that I drank my first cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee, one of the most expensive coffees in the WORLD, in the UNIVERSE. I know I shouldn't have splurged, but I had to. Just that once. It was divine and they gave me coconut milk to add. Oh yes. Yes, yes. We were all pleased with our Caribbean meal, a thousand miles from the ocean blue. 

Hoofin' it to Joshua Tree Inn and Pioneertown

Possibly one of my favorite musicians of all time is Gram Parsons. Let me tell you why. Gram had a certain emotionality in his voice and added a soft innocence to the music he performed, which I find to be generally rare amongst. Also, Return of the Grievous Angel is one of the best songs ever and is best road trip songs ever. That's my claim. I mean, it's disputable, but whatever, my blog.

If you don't know about poor Gram Parsons, he played with the Byrds, Flying Burrito Brothers and sang with Emmylou Harris as the Fallen Angels. His widespread fame comes largely from being country and being best buddies with Keith Richards. Also, because after he died in the desert at 26, his friends later stole his body and burned it out in Joshua Tree. The tale is a rock legend, and you can read about it elsewhere. 

Though we didn't get to stay at the Joshua Tree Inn, where Parson's life came to an end, we stopped by for a picture. The sign in the window says, "The Home of Gram Parsons Spirit."  
After running normal vacation errands, like buying a soccer ball, we went over to Pioneertown for lunch. A few miles off the beaten track is this old western town built for Hollywood. It's a neat place, with artwork spotting the area, like this garden piece below. 
We ate at Pappy and Harriet's, a great bar with good food where many great musicians have performed and where Peaches is scheduled to perform this month. Peaches. 

On the animal front, I saw hummingbirds feasting on the back porch which was drenched with honeysuckle. 

I had to throw this in here, bro. For real, bro.

Hoofin' it through Joshua Tree National Park

Joshua Tree was totally otherworldly; it was what I imagined a Klingon planet to resemble. 

Did I mention that already? Well it's true. 

At each welcome center of the national or state parks we visited, I asked whichever ranger or welcome center worker about trails that might meet my criteria for the day, short and shady, mid-length with a waterfall, etc. At the Joshua Tree center, while Jimmy bought a deck of playing cards I asked the ranger, who was actually Gary Busey, to give me a hint about where to go. Instead, he lectured me about drinking water and about the intensity of the heat, in an aggressive manner. I cannot tell you how many people on this trip "emphasized" drinking more water because of the dry western air, harping again and again on the topic. I tried to wave off Gary telling him that I'm used to heat, I'm from Florida. He almost ripped out my throat and flossed with my trachea. Apparently he also drinks a ton of water. I agreed to and we left. 

Up by the welcome center, there was a small oasis which boasted a puddle of water and four tall palms. I was worried the whole place would be just as exciting, but luckily it improved. As we drove further into the park, it became more and more dense with joshua trees and more almost magical. Their leaves sort of glimmer in the sunlight, giving them a silvery look. The odd shapes the trees make add to the texture of the landscape. 

The first of a few stops was to Split Rock, which was gigantic and had a really fun slit in it where one might play. It's kind of interesting being in a rock's crevice. Sort of like you're violating the monolith.

Jimmy insisted on bounding up any climbable grouping of rocks. At one point I was convinced he wouldn't be able to get down and would fall and injure himself, so I video tapped it. He made it, so it's a dull video. 

We also played around with the natural environment. I made Jimmy place his hand in a frightening hole, possibly filled with black widows or scorpions, and he looks like he's enjoying it, right? He looks gassy. 

On one of the other trails, we were looking for an artificial water source where Mr. Busey said there'd be animals. While we were walking I saw a sign that advertised petroglyphs, so we checked them out instead. Apparently the ones not in color are the original markings. Thoughtless tourists over the years have colored in the others, affecting their authenticity.  

Jimmy claimed this is his album cover - it'll be in stores soon! 

I couldn't pick a favorite park if I tried, but Joshua Tree was definitely an adventure and a unique beauty. 

Hoofin' it around 29 Palms Inn

My original purpose for heading to Joshua Tree was to stay in the room where Gram Parsons died. Morbid. I know. But it would have been quite the experience. Unfortunately the room was rented out and my friends told us about the 29 Palms Inn. 

Jimmy splurged for us and we got a huge guest house here for not much more than $200 but which would have comfortably fit 6 people. The rooms had some nice quirky decorations like a corny painting that resembled a hiking Hillary Clinton. There were two large bedrooms, a massive living room, dining room, kitchen and even a private backyard. There was a beautiful mural of the desert on the wall in the back.  The Inn had different guest houses and grounds you could explore with a little lake, Cinderella's coach and a handsome pool. Chris was not satisfied with the continental breakfast of boiled eggs and bread, but it was freshly baked bread, and delicious, so I was pleased. Jimmy ate two boiled eggs. A simple, odorous man my brother is.

Basically coming from LA, you can either stay on I-10 and go to Palm Springs or break off to Highway 62 and go to Joshua Tree and then 29 Palms. Though we drove in at night, we could tell this wasn't like deserted eastern Utah. The highway was well populated with convenience stores and such. People actually live out there in this desert, artsy people with good taste. I say they have good taste because I would move out there in a second, it had near perfect vibes.

Our backyard

What a pool

Go murals!

I snuck over to take this picture as the guests of the room corresponding to this little boat on the lake were heading back from the pool. They stared at me like I was nuts because I was lurking around their property. It was worth it.

Hoofin' it, the forgotten day...

(These are the perverts checking out the bathing babes.)

I totally screwed up and left out a full day's activities! I think I was all wrapped up in the Ron Jeremy meeting. The reason I'm even bringing this up is because it was quite an activity that I left out. While in LA, I went over to Koreatown to get rubbed down by Korean ladies. 

Yes! I went to the Olympic Spa and it was a worthy and inexpensive experience. For only $15, I had access to different pools, saunas and steam rooms. The decor is very commie/Eastern Bloc with pink lockers and small spaces. When you go in, you have to get NAKED. Now this is for ladies only, so it's a feminine adventure. Immediately, this one busty Mexican chick decided she'd "show me the ropes" and she was nice enough to take me around even though I was a little scared of her. 

I bathed with old Korean ladies, all naked, and other women too, big boobs, flat bottoms, etc. For an extra $30 they take you into a separate area and a korean lady scrubs the crap out of you. All of this gray gunky dead skin is sloughed off of you - very gross but liberating. The lady orders you when to move and basically scrapes every part of your skin, even dangerously close to your nether regions. The best part is the sensation of a bucket of water being thrown over you. It was like being a newborn. I loved it! 

At the end, there's a place where you grab a blanket and lay around on a heated floor. While I was sitting there, I felt a rumble. I thought it was my stomach! A Korean lady jumped up from her nap and the Hollywood beauty next to her turned and said, "that was an earthquake, did you feel that?" 

After losing all my unwanted flesh, I went and got a $30 haircut at Rudy's Barbershop. Nothing exciting, but necessary and cheap. 

I guess that's all I wanted to add. If you're in LA, check out the Olympic Spa. Some lady in Santa Fe said she got the same scrub by Koreans in Seattle (she said they rub you like seals) and my cousin had the same thing done in Morocco. For me, it was priceless and unique. 

stick a fork in 'em

Impressively, Miami's own Jacuzzi Boys were featured on Pitchfork today. Good job, boys! Article is here.

Jennifer the Leopard makes an appearance on Drew Barrymore's chest!!!

I've been waiting to get to this part of my trip so I can mention something awesome. Before we ate at the taco truck, we found out that Flo met up with Drew Barrymore for work and gave her a band tee-shirt of a certain group of which Stephanie is the lead singer and of which I am a huge fan, Jennifer the Leopard. 

Mere days later Drew was photographed all over Palm Springs wearing the J Lep shirt! Here are the first photos: click here. There was some talk of the pic showing in People mag, I'll keep you all updated. Most importantly, here's where you can buy your own top: buy me. 

Not to BRAG, but I was right near Palm Spring when these were taken, AND I already repped the J Lep tee in the MIA media thanks to Jipsy both on her site and on the Miami New Times' website. 

Laughin' and lovin'. That's what I think J Lep is all about. Well that and four beautiful ladies and some jammin' tunes. As far as the video, Marissa, your gum chewing is clutch.

                                     

Lookin' Good, Feelin' Fine by J Lep from LFish99 on Vimeo.

Hoofin' it out of Los Angeles, back into the desert

Of this post, I want you to be jealous. I ate more Mexican street meat and I also ate street churros, all delicious. 

After rushing back from Borin' Boron (I kid, I had a neat time there), I had to sit in a tiny dollop of LA traffic on my way to retrieve my brother Jimmy and Chris. It was Wednesday and Jimmy had, in typical form, decided to join us for a week the day before, Tuesday. After undergoing his own adventures, Chris met with Jimmy at LAX and they took the Flyover bus to downtown. When I met up with them I was a bit frazzled, as my phone's GPS was sucking and sending me all places not to them.  

We then rushed back to the house of Steph and Flo. C & J pounded some beers and Jimmy told us horrifying tales of nursing; we wanted gross, we got vile. Our lovely hosts brought us down to a taco truck in the hood and we did what we do best, we stuffed ourselves sick. After I finished my three tacos, I got another. I am a pig. Well actually, I ate pig and chicken. I devoured. 

Chris, Jimmy and I then hopped into the station wagon and moved our asses across the state toward 29 Palms and the magical desert of Joshua Trees. 

 

Hoofin' it on an LA night and in Boron

After a Hills/Real Housewives watchfest, Steph and I met up with her friend and Jennifer the Leopard band-mate Lauren who brought us to a tranny, tiki bar. The night was gay hipster, but both gay girl and gay boy, which is best for everyone. I like it as mixed as possible, always makes for the most fun.

Despite the club's less than appetizing aroma, the music was dancetabulous. It was very dancey, a bit bassy, super Miami meets LA, a combination of hip hop, gay house and Latin music, if I remember correctly. Can't ask for more than that. After several Negro Modelos and a bunch of dorky dance moves, I had to pee, but we were in the car, so we did what you do in that situation. We pulled over. As I "went," Steph spotted a coyote on the lawn of a house (pictured below). My second coyote sighting! Apparently they walk in line down the block at night through these 'burbs eating cats and such. I wonder what's happening to their habitats. No good, my puppies.  

Steph was also kind enough to point out this sign for me, below. 

Yes. No Cruising. Sure, you think, it's like some anti-drive by shit. However, maybe not. These signs are located in the old gay hood. 

No cruising, you dirty boys!

My mother never knew her father as a kid nor was close to her father's family then. However, she has recently reconnected with one of her last remaining aunts. This is Aunt Katherine who lives in Boron, CA. Since I was on that side of the nation,  my mom "asked" me to visit and meet my great aunt. 

I believe my aunt said she was elected the mayor of this tiny desert town and recently was made the honorary mayor. Kind of neat for a Wilkes Barre gal. She's been living out there since 1949, and she's now 93, I think. Next to Boron is Borax - where the cleaning product comes from. Not quite a party town. Her one story house and filled with all the essentials and more, but outside, the landscape was more than barren as it's basically in the Mohave Desert. As you can see here, past her backyard, the line of towels whipping in the wind, there is nothing but desert. 

Hoofin' it, just another star studded day in LA

In typical Miami, bro fashion (since I'm so obssesssed with famous people like Matt Damon), when deciding what to do on a Monday in LA, I admitted that my one desire was to spot a celeb. Stephanie did some reconnaissance work, and we decided to go to the pool at the Hotel Roosevelt where we sunbathed next to Ron Jeremy. After a long chat with some nice Canadians, and a few drinks, I decided I'd go in for the kill with Ron. My real excuse was that my old bud Randi's uncle used to work with the Hedgehog and she told me to tell him that she said hello. I walked over to Ron, who was very friendly and nice to all of his admirers and told him that Jerry Garfinkle's niece said hello. He was happy to hear that, and lamented that it had been a long time since he'd last spoken to them. He let me take this picture with him and then, before I walked away, he planted a smooch on my mouth. Yes, I got pop kissed by a porn star. 

Jealous? The best part is that there's follow up to this tale. Randi text messaged me a few days later that Ron had shown up at her uncle's house and mentioned my conversation with him! Making things happen, bro. Steph noted that more people came up to RJ as fans than she had seen come up to other famous people. Interesting. 
After this excitement, Steph and I met up with an old high school pal, Eddie at the Urth Caffe where I ate a really good tasting sandwich and drank some sweet coffee. Eddie told us a great story about working at Barbara Streisand's party and we talked LA/MIA stuff. It was here that we saw Sarah Silverman sitting and eating by the bathroom and a nondescript Marisa Tomei walked right by us outside. Yes, I felt a little star crazy there. 

After an eventful day, we met up with Flo and the lovely Marissa at the Edendale Grill which is a really handsome restaurant. Then I think we went home and watched the Hills. How very Los Angelean! 

Hoofin' it in LA, more Echo Park and a BUNNY

As you can see from the above photo, I'm hideous and contemplating a midlife crisis at 30; I've got 2.5 months left before I have to commit this sort of breakdown. 

Later on that day, we walked around Echo Park some more, where I admired the murals which are the bomb. 

I love Guadalupes the best, but as the Virgins were spectacular, this quinceanera mural really made my day. 

Stephanie bought some super-sized Mexi-desserts. I had never seen this sort purchasing process with the tray and the tongs. I liked it.

What I liked even more was this lady's street meat. She brought out the blue cornmeal, patted them into quesadillas and made them into a scrumptious snack. Oh, Lord, these were good.

While we were in the neighborhood, we stopped by an amazing bookstore with used and new books and a little cafe called Stories. I bought a wedding cake topper with two chicks on it, in case I ever want to marry a lady. The book selection was incredible and I totally got a used Robertson Davies novel. 

We also spent a long time in the Echo Park Time Travel Mart, which is part of Dave Eggers' 826LA which is his non-profit org which helps kids with their writing skills. Here are some good pictures from the store - click here. Basically they periodically change the storefront theme and props. Currently the theme is time travel, so they have great toys to play with and purchase. Some things are jokey and neat like fake leaches in a bottle, Barbarian Repellant or a Ricky Martin soft lunchbox. And then there are books and such which I bought for the family. 

Later that night, the night of the EARTHQUAKE, we were up recording a radio show with this here bunny in Valencia. Since we were a bit out of town, we didn't feel the earth'a shakin'. This was good. The radio show is titled Call With Questions. You can listen to it here. And one of our hosts is featured in the new Wholphin, so please purchase a copy (a very McSweeney's day, for certain). They have a pet bunny, who was friendly and wonderful and soft. Bunnies make better pets than dinner.