LA Trip reprise: Havasu Sentence & Escape to LA!

 Monday & Tuesday

 It hit 122 degrees Tuesday afternoon at the house in Havasu. I think that pretty much says it all. Don't you tell me it's a dry heat.

 The highlights of my time in Havasu are as follows: early morning walks around Carly's Island, followed by breakfast at Peggy's Sunrise Cafe, my favourite place in the city; really the only place I've found for a decent breakfast. And I got an oil change in the Jag. I thought when I left home that I could just do it when I got back, but it was already 1400 miles past-due, and I wasn't even to LA yet. So what the hell. And I learned that, if you're looking for a solid career with growth potential, you should open a drive-through oil-change shop in Lake Havasu City. The first shop I called had an opening for a week from Friday. The second could get me in on Monday. Third time was the charm, but it cost me more than twice what it would have back home.

 I decided not to return to Havasu after LA; I wouldn't be able to get there before 10PM or so, and then all I'd do is wake up and shut up the house before heading home. No point, really: it wasn't worth the savings of one extra night in a motel, especially when you consider the added gas to get there, at $5.59 a gallon (for premium).

 So I made a reservation for that first night of the return trip, in Blythe, California. I also made a reservation for Wednesday night at a motel in a suburb called Lawndale, not far from LAX, so it'd be easy to get there to collect the Hankmeister when he got in. Then I checked my route across the Mojave Desert, and went to bed. 

 And finally, I've had three more people compliment the car since I got to Havasu. That alone is worth the extra expense.Well, maybe not, but it doesn't hurt.

 Wednesday, June 12

 I managed to shut the house up pretty quickly; really the only time-consuming part was making the bed. It's so low to the ground that it's difficult to get down there and tuck the sheets in. I was on the road by 6:30, I think. Stopped for coffee at the Running Man C-store in Parker, then crossed into California. My first stop was a small monument on the side of the road to mark one of the desert training bases used during World War II. On the way there a white lizard at least a foot long ran across the road in front of me. I'm not sure if it was an albino or if there's a species of lizard in the Mojave that's actually bright white. But I know it was more than a foot long because it was on both sides of the double yellow stripe in the road at the same time.

 After that I tried to find a place called the Desert Castle, a private home of unusual architecture, but after a dozen turns, alternating right and left, I was faced with nothing but dirt roads. I was hungry by then, so I blew it off and went for a restaurant in Joshua Tree -- the town, not the park. 

 OMG I had the best breakfast I've ever had between San Antonio and Los Angeles! At a place called JT Country Kitchen, I got excellent coffee, three huge Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Pancakes (the special of the day) and a side of perfectly cooked bacon. I'm sure I gained weight just from the aroma. Then back on the road. I decided to top off the gas tank, so I asked Google Maps for a place, selected one, and set off to find it. GMaps took me down the highway heading west for about four miles, then directed me to make a U-turn. Huh? Okay.... Went back east on the highway and found the gas station, next door to the restuarant where I'd had breakfast. 

 Technology.

 So my next stop was at a place called the Devil's Punchbowl. I followed GMaps west until it took me up into the mountains north of the city. Sixteen miles uphill behind a slow truck. Then GMaps directed me to make a U-turn and directed me sixteen miles back the way I'd come. I kid you not.

 As I said: technology. 

 The road I pointlessly went up into the mountains on is one that passes by a cement plant. That cement plant was built by the Los Angeles Metropolitan Water Authority in the 1920s in order to provide concrete for the construction of the famous aqueducts planned by William Mulholland (of Mulholland Drive fame) for the theft of all the water in the Central Valley of California. It's a famous episode replete with corruption and self-dealing, and as it happens I was listening to an audiobook about that very subject the last time I passed that way, on the Stained Glass Trip a few years ago.

 This trip, I'm listening to podcasts (because I'm out of audiobooks). I've been listening to Empire, a series Sherry got us started with on our Condo Trip last month. I've finished all the episodes about India and Pakistan and am now mostly done with the Ottoman Empire. The podcast is presented by two very accomplished historians: a Punjabi woman named Anita something who lives in London and an Englishman named William (his last name is either Drimple or deRimple or Dalrymple, depending on what day it is, I guess) who lives in India and seems to be related to everybody who ever did anything imperial in British history. Anita wants us to believe she's shocked -- shocked, I say -- by all the nonstandard sex around the world, but she can't help raising the question every time there's an opening. And there's always an opening. They both have posh-sounding English accents that are very easy to understand; most of their guest presenters are easy to understand, too, except for one guy who is an authority on Gandhi. He's either Indian or Pakistani, I believe, and it sounded like he was standing in a cave and chewing on licorice while speaking in a heavy South Asian accent. I gave up on that episode.

 But most of the time it's a hoot, listening to erudite scholars talk so enthusiastically about things that I, at best, knew only a bare minimum about. Most of what they discuss, I had no idea about before, so it's fascinating stuff. (I also listened to five episodes out of order about the United States' founding fathers. I did not find those five episodes as interesting, partly because I already knew most of it better than the two of them seemed to, and partly because they seemed to want to focus entirely on sex and slavery, especially where those two subjects intersect.) Anyway, I heartily recommend the podcast series to anyone who's interested in history other than US history.

The Devil's Punchbowl

 I finally reached the Los Angeles County Park called the Devil's Punchbowl. It features an interesting sandstone outcropping lying in a small valley. I started to walk down but I didn't relish the prospect of walking back up in the heat, so I just took some pictures and went to the park office, where they have specimens of some of the local fauna and flora. Nearby is a small altar or a big bench built of rocks, and on the side of it there are two round light-coloured stones. Each one had a bronze lizard on it. At first I thought they were actually bronze lizard statues placed there for decoration, but when I shook my phone to turn on the camera they both took off. I managed to get a picture of one.

 From there I went to check out two musical roads. 

 Here's the story, as I understand it from several sources: Some years ago, Honda wanted to do a car commercial wherein their car drives along and the road noise plays a familiar tune. They hired somebody to cut grooves in a public road in Lancaster, California, and shot their commercial. They left the grooved road behind. It attracted people from all over, excited to drive down this road in a residential area of town and listen to the 30 seconds of familiar music. People who lived there got pissed at all the traffic zipping up and down their road, so the city paved over it. Then other people started complaining because they wanted the experience. So the city contacted somebody who'd been involved in setting up the original musical road for instructions, and hired somebody to put it back in, but in a more remote area of the same road -- way out on the way to the little-used airport.

 Sadly, the person cutting the second set of grooves didn't quite understand the instructions, and as a result, the grooves are not quite correctly spaced. Here's what it sounds like now (the music starts at about 19 seconds in; sorry about that):

 So this musical and technical failure so exorcised a local citizen that he decided to show the City of Lancaster how it's done, and he got permission from the neighbouring city of Palmdale to cut grooves into one of their roadways (though he only did a narrow strip along the road edge; much cheaper that way). It sounds like this (I missed the first few notes, but the music starts at about 8 seconds):

 So there.

 My last stop before braving the permanent rush-hour traffic of Los Angeles was Vasquez Rocks, a famous film shooting site. In the visitor's center there were posters for a number of films that had been shot out there, but I was only interested in the spot used in the Star Trek original-series episode called "Arena," where a busybody race called the Metrons force Captain Kirk to fight the unnamed captain of the Gorn spaceship that the Enterprise has been pursuing through Metron space. It was also the site where Sheldon, Leonard, Raj and Howard were humiliated in The Big Bang Theory while photographing themselves in Star Trek costumes. 

 Turns out the two episodes were shot at a place called The Famous Rocks. How apt.

The Famous Vasquez Rocks

 I drove into LA from there, top down. As I crested the mountain by the Getty Center on Interstate 5 I was hit by a wave of cool air. I just that moment, the outside temperature dropped from about 90 to 75. Sweet.

 So now I'm settled into an inexpensive motel in Lawndale, ready to head out to LAX in the morning.

On Pronouns

I saw this on a weird web site called Imgur that I look at most days. I'm not really sure what it is but people post all kinds of odd stuff.

 

 I've got no problem calling people by the names they choose; personally, I chose "God" but nobody will call me that, except sarcastically. But people, including me, don't get to pick the pronouns I use for them. I go by my own set of rules. Here they are in draft form:

1. Men are "he/him" and women are "she/her".

2. Flaming queens are still "he/him"; dykes are still "she/her".

3. Men who look like women and act like women are "she/her" unless it's just something they did for a Halloween party or a Krewe Ball. Women who look like men and act like men are "he/him" unless it's just a direct-action political protest or something like that.

4. There are no "they/them" individuals. For anyone who insists they're not binary -- whatever the fuck they mean by that (and I suspect they don't really know but just want to shock) -- the only alternative to "he/him" or "she/her" is "it/its". Don't like it? Tough. That's the way the language works. Deal with it.