A man who had a 5 o'clock after shadow, the whisker thing I heard before, and black hair and large eyes. He was kind of short also, but a good all around guy. His dog, oh his dog, was a black and giant, large beast with furry hair and brown spots close to the eyes, down ears and also big eyes. He came to our site and we petted the nice dog. He actually needed to continue walking, after he had talked to us about the trip and the R.V. park, how nice it had been for him who had stayed quite a while there. Mom said that we could walk around a lap with him perhaps, but the idea had never crossed my mind. He was just a walker with a dog we had noticed, but he had seemed nice enough. However we could maybe be kidnapped, and so I would be alert and on guard for any thing or action he would do. If he said if we wanted to go into his camper, we would decline. Only with our parents. But would he?
As we walked to the right along our row, I told him that he looked like Harrison Ford a bit. He said he was just shorter and skinnier than Han Solo and Indiana Jones, and that guy in the Fugitive. He's one of my favorite actors. He's great. But Tom, as the man introduced himself, was probably going to not be the same personality or character. Not at all.
We walked a little, and I questioned him about how he said he had lived in Mexico, and what that now full-of-drug and corruption country was like. Tom hasn't been back since all the bad media, but it used to be safe and pretty with the ocean, lakes, and the desert and forest. It was a U.S. away from the U.S. and cheaper than the other one too, but you had to know Spanish just about everywhere. I nodded about it as the conversation drifted some, to how the trip had been on us, and Tom told us we would really appreciate this excursion, giving light to some of the times in his life, that traveling was a great thing and all. We were on our way around, toward the great bridge going over the lagoon, that wasn't in fact that long, just wide, about the length of our motorhome and twice the width. Just on a long row of pretty motorhomes before that, Tom was saying in reply to us saying we missed our friends,
"Let me tell you something, guys. I know you may miss all your peers right now, but seldom are any of them going to be your friends in later years, like in adulthood. A few of my friends are from childhood, but the thing about old friends is...well... if you play tennis----I like to play tennis by the way---(his Californian soft but gritty accent rang out) or chess by the way, you know their strategy and how they play the game, which most of the time is the same. So what I'm saying is that old friends get boring, and when you play with new friends, you don't know their strategy. And tennis is all about that, chess too. But yeah you'll miss these people, but in a couple of years you won't even think about them. Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other's mold... I mean gold."
He had interesting views and a dry sense of humor, but Rebecca would later call him weird. It did get me to thinking, however, about the whole friends thing. Don't worry, Henry, Zach, Westin or Caleb or any others I forgot to mention, I'll still play tennis and chess with you... which I actually don't play so.... back to the blog.
"So what do you guys do for fun on the road?" Tom asked as he looked away at the last tints of sun rise rising in the horizon.
I spoke for the both of us. "Well usually we're doing schoolwork, and then I write a blog. We seldom see children but have really had an opportunity here to just play around."
Rebecca added, "And I play barbies. Andrew reads all the time and has read like 60 books this year." (Oh and before going on let me state not all of this is word for word exact quote just what I remember people saying, well close to that anyway.)
I tried not to blush however. "Nah, it doesn't matter..."
"Well, reading is great and all with the whole knowledge thing, but I personally don't read that much, just too hard sometimes and T.V. is the tool of the century. My wife loves to read, and even reads in the living room when I'm talking to her, and I ask her questions and she doesn't answer. I don't like that because it's like she's excluding me, leaving me out, and having a love affair with the book. I feel rejected."
Another original and weird comment. I thought to myself, Well, I haven't heard that one before, even from Spencer. It was seriously an interesting thing to say. I mean, I had never thought of it like a love affair, even when there was some romance in the stories like King Arthur and his wife. It gave me some thought, made me realize I should spend more time talking to my folks, even though I already did a lot of that, and I told Tom that I only did it at night when I was really tired, at dinner when I didn't want to talk, and in long car rides on the highway with the country music blazing and we can't really hear... EACH.... OTH... AT... ALLLL! (Red Solo Cup as loud as a bugle horn!)
It was the strangest thing of the day to say though.
Tom called me a compassionate and conscientious reader, and that was a good thing. Musingly he said sometimes he wish his wife could be like that.
But those comments, from this eccentric gentleman, really made me contemplate and think.
Anyway, we walked on as Rebecca tried to change the topic from books to dogs, talking about his dog Ruby. We crossed the bridge, and then turned left and came back on our own lot once more. The book discussion was reinforced and only until the very end did she get to talk about dogs. We stopped at our R.V., thanking the man. He said that later he wanted to show us his motorhome, which was at the turn of the 90's and was very inventive. I raised my eyebrow, now intrigued. We'd seen many people's gorgeous lots and this might be our last, as we were going to Joshua Tree. But anyway, we stopped in front and told Mom and Dad all about the guy. Then we resumed our game with Bane and the Queen ruling the kingdom. It was fun for a while.
Bane found this wizard staff and used it to make him go into a book, but for a while after Queen had gone in he stumbled in it. The book she went into was Mossflower, and we did the scene of the little hungry and cold woodlanders in Winter, after the Mole and a bit of Martin the Warrior. That was kind of fun, but Rebecca didn't like it and wasn't the most willing actress. Mom peeked her head out and told Rebecca to put her trash away if she wasn't eating it. A long time ago she ate it with the family as we talked about the day and some other things. Well, we continued playing and Bane, me, tried to get in with a sweep of the black staff I had gotten at Normandy Farms in Boston, and it was fun until...
CLANG CLANG!
CRKKKK!
That buttery thing container crashed to the ground, with all the stuff pouring out through the cracked sides. I said sorry a million times to Rebecca, who held it as a great possession. It was even worse that it had happened the second day she had it, and she pinched me and got very mad at me. Upon cleaning it up and telling Mom and Dad, Mom said it wasn't necessarily my fault as she had told Rebecca to move it and she didn't... so.... it was a complicated subject.
After showering, eating, and getting dressed, we considered seeing the seemingly great R.V. that Tom said he had, and he was only a few lots down anyway. We could walk through it shortly and then after going in their for like 15 minutes, we could then go to Joshua Tree National Park and hope to see all of it even though we had gotten a late start. I had to put on a shirt besides my white tee, which I did reluctantly as we then walked over to the R.V. Tom had made it apparent that Mom should bring her camera, and so we used the large long lensed one we carried with us frequently. We talked about the man, keeping it sub rosa until we got to his R.V. And what an R.V., as we stood in the small grass area to the side and behind the motorhome, a few lawn chairs and door open, nothing special. The coach was blue, no slides, with black tints and wave-like ripples along the metal, very flashy and long, with a suburban-like car in front. Tom came out, and welcomed us, glad that we could make the time to tour his masterpiece. Well, he didn't call it that but you could see from the twinkle of his eye and his cheerful step that he really loved what we would later call an engineering marvel. Man, you really want to read about his R.V. now, don't cha?
Well, I'll take you inside... oh, but wait...Tom told us we had to see the outside first. Don't worry, there's plenty out here too.
I was bursting with excitement at this man's rig. What did it have in store just past that small door? Would I see the nicest, plushest, and craziest of all motorhomes ever when I stepped in? Only time could tell. First of all, he told us that he had this specially ordered from Prevost the company and hired an engineer, and what was cool was that he had designed it. He did everything from the no slides so that he could camouflage in the surroundings and not have to pay at places (so devious, Tom!) and the bedrooms and all the other workings of the hou...motorhome. Which I will talk about when the Bourne's emerge inside. But outside..... for his dog he had a bay, only when they were about to come back and he was tied up in there... was it just a regular carpet space? To our very shock and utter eye-widening and jaw-dropping, no. There was a large crate taking up a large area, and a kind of metal tube, a downspout perhaps, that was over a few bowls, four different tubes in one of them. It was very interesting. Tom had earlier told Rebecca and I---I am just remembering this now--- that in their house they would have a downspout that would drip the water into bowls for the dogs, that would never cease, so it would all add up and the dogs would always be well supplied of water. Brilliant but simple! That's what this man was. However proud he was, you must admit he is clever.
He showed us a few more bays, with some storage and foldable bikes, which was really cool. Oh and also in that pet thingy was an area in the back for the pet to lay about, and I think one of those cat towers. He said when they had cats they could go up a shaft into the other part of the R.V. where the humans were! Although some of the things I heard I kind of doubted.
Inside we went, now expecting to see a whole number of innovative things. The mystery of this intrigued me. There were some steps in the middle of the R.V. where the door was stationed, not at the passenger side seat as in most Class A coaches and country coaches. We left Ruby tied up to a table with an umbrella on it, and went inside. He showed us a small storage place to the left of the grey tile with beige carpet bottom stairs. There was a small coat hanger pins along with a mirror as we emerged up through the small short-lived passageway. Before us we had a dull grey leather couch, rounding on two sides and having a long middle area, and to the left of that a shelf or table against the wall with shaded lamp and books beneath it. Then there was some glass cases on the wall, with some weird rocks and bones in it, and then the hallway to assumingly the bathrooms and stuff. To the right, we had a fridge and on one side, left if you were facing that way, a kitchen and salt and pepper, with stove, on the left to the right just before the passenger and driver seat, two cushiony grey leather booth seats and a table in between. Then of course you had the passenger seat and also the driver, both grey cushion. The walls were simple and white enough, and Tom would later tell us he was going for a kind of apartment look.
I was fairly amazed that, although not THAT roomy, it had no slides and was like this with no slides. It wasn't like ours where it's roomy when the slides are out or where you have to make it livable for the slides to be out. He stated that he wanted to be able to slink away in places and be incognito. They talked about some things, the adults, R.V.ing and all and also being stopped in the middle of the night and told to move (by security guards) and Tom saying that he said he just wanted to sleep and not wake the children, but in the morning they'd leave. He had a gun so if a bad guy came he would take care of them. As they did so, I craned my neck to see those hardback books. Many of them were about geology, the study of rocks and fossils, and on closer examination of the stuff in the glass display cases, I saw the same thing. Spiral formations in black circles, chipped off geodes and also many other things. There were a few purple. I told Rebecca that maybe she was more alike him after all, this guy she had called odd. Well, he wasn't exactly normal, but not very crazy. He just had different views and opinions. I was intrigued to see the next part of the house. By the kitchen cabinet and stove, Tom told us that he used propane, not generator, to power the food cooking and all that, which didn't make much noise. Wow!
"So you know how sometimes you don't want the stupid glass plates to rattle in your cabinet by the kitchen? Well, I designed a solution with my engineer. I call it, well, I don't really know what to call it. But,(and he opened up the cabinet) it's glass in little slits or holders, carpet so that they don't rattle and are silent on the drive. And plus, I have a lot to worry about, so this is just one less loud object going amunck."
They were little white glass plates with on either side small openings they fit into, and were purple and blue and red. Simple but efficient. If he designed all this, Tom was really an inventive man. Although it wasn't totally so jaw-droppping and great, but still cool. He made the booth right behind the seats so that the kids could see the road too, and do their schoolwork and type on their computers while still looking at the sights. It had it's back to the passenger seat, which were all purple and cushiony. That was a smart idea, and I remembered that constantly Rebecca and I had to sit on a bean-bag or stand behind their chairs to see the awesome scenery or the bustling cities that we passed by, which was sad. I probably wouldn't trade his R.V. for ours, but I had to admit that he certainly had it going for himself. He had used this model after meeting his wife in Italy, and then they lived out of their van. They kept getting bigger and bigger until they got this, from a trailer to a 5th wheel, and Tom said along the way he collected a lot of worthless ideas and things he would fix, but you can't fix all of those things. The important ones he decided to fix in designed the Prevost.
He said Prevost like (Pre Vough!) instead of (Pree- vost!)
He showed me the chairs that twisted around, and all the dials and the back camera. We also told him a little bit about our own coach, and he didn't seem like he cared that much. Dad agreed with him that they have made a lot of complex and stupid new R.V.'s, all the nice one, that have all the glamor but not the efficiency, with all the marble countertops. They discussed how bad it was that it wasn't livable with the slides done in, and that was probably why he wouldn't sell his own motor home except to his children, because he loved it so much, had so many memories in it, and it suited him better than all those new ones. It probably would suit me too, if I was just alone with my wife. Oh and where was the wife? She had taken the car and was probably doing an errand or something, but we, unlike all the other spouses of the nice people we had met at the R.V. resort, would not meet her. I asked Tom if he liked rocks a lot, and he asked how I had known that. I answered that it was simply the books and the fossils, and he said I was very observant, for a child. I would sometimes talk and he would usually answer or give me some weird line, but wasn't exactly a nice and general guy. He also tried to teach me something a lot.
Now for the back of the house. He stated that he found all of those shells and rocks and fossils, which I raised an eyebrow in doubt but said wow anyway. What reason did he have to lie, I wondered? To our left was a door, very small and diagonal to the R.V., wooden, that slid into the little space to the left of the door, like in our rig. He got them bunk beds in this room so that they could have room for a desk and computer. And boy did they have room. There were two blue beds, one on top of each other, which were up against a corner and quite snug and tight. Then there was a swivel chair, along with a desk that came out from the wall and was like a T.V. tray, with a computer could be on it. Then there was some drawers and a mirror. I could even live in this part of the R.V. It'd be a lot better for Rebecca and I if we had bunk beds, no dressing blankets up and making beds and extinguishing it. It is quite a pain, if Rebecca's is out and we have to crawl over the long big mattress and her's out, but oh well. Only 20 days today of more doing that.
Then, a restroom also on the left. I noticed something at this point. Maybe it was just that these rooms were smaller, but Tom was only passing by these little lodging, nothing special and not staying long. It was probably because they were private, not really for public eyes, and as we quickly passed by the fairly large shower and toilet, I was pretty glad we didn't see them for long. His bedroom at the end was quilt like and had two coffee tables at the far end, and there wasn't much besides a large window and coat hanger in the close quarters. He told us some things as I located a book about a dog on the wife's side, with a lamp and all. There was also a T.V. in this small compartment. After that, Tom suggested we talk outside in the hot sun instead of rotting inside. We sat in very small chairs, lawn style, while Ruby the Dog chewed on some toys with Rebecca petting her, and Tom showed Dad all of his generator and water supply, the thing that Dad was most amazed and intrigued about, but I didn't understand many words they said and even when they answered my questions I was still a little bewildered at the R.V. talk.
He showed us his electricity hose, that he doesn't have to hook up to when dry camping, and can do 30 amps and 50 amps, and also his four tube hose and at the back where the engine is showed us where he stored umbrellas and stuff, even though I could clearly see a WARNING: DO NOT PUT ITEMS IN ENGINE COMPARTMENT OR FATAL INJURIES OR DEATH MAY OCCUR. PREVOST IS NOT RESPONSIBLE....etc, etc. I confronted him about this, and in answer with a twinkle of his eye and his deep Cali accent,
"Yeah but sometimes it's okay to break the rules. They just say that to be safe."
I wonder to this day if his coach is still together and not in many pieces....
He owned the site but also had a house in Santa Monica, which you'll hear about later. What annoyed him was he had gotten this site to see the view of the lagoon without paying all that money to see it, and go up to it in the morning and see it from his chair perhaps also. But however, this certain man who had a site up there (they spend about a million for it and then add all these bars and pools that make it so so so much money) created a bungalow right on the view, and then the people there made this big generator thing to power the area. Why can't they at least put up some nice flowers or a palm tree, you know? (His words, not mine) That conversation dragged on with talking of pricing in the place, all of the money junk, and then he told us about his financial situation at a large property with a large and many acres, and all of the banks that were adding up all this interest. He decided to go to court and not pay them, because he was done on his mortgage and he was paying all these stupid fees that the banks were supplying to him. Then THAT conversation dragged on and on for a long time. I started looking at squirrels chasing each other on a palm tree, and then started announcing the opponents and the game.
"And BrownTail goes for the weak side of SharpClaw, and oh! He's right on the rookies tail....Oh would you look at that spin around the bark.... into the foliage now.... folks this is gonna be a tough game! And the birds chirp wildly!"
Yep, I was THAT bored.
I said something funny to change the subject, and Mom could see that I wasn't interested in banks or trust funds or law stuff, unlike herself with her John Grisham novels. We talked about the trip and Tom posed the suggestion that we should start a blog. As you know as you are reading this right now, we already have a blog and 341 blog posts. I did a bad move, and said in a sarcastic voice as I was done with people saying to make a blog and we have one,
"Oh yeah! THAT'S A GREAT IDEA!" Mom said not to be sarcastic, and Indiana J... I mean Tom looked confused. I told him that we already had one.
"No, I don't mean the whole FaceBook thing or just a travel thing people follow, but a real blog. Like anyone in the whole world can look at it and do. For instance, if you add labels that are common and attract people on Google they might find it and click on it. The more people do that, Google actually pays you to put adds on your well traveled site. "
My eye's pricked at the sound of making a buck.
Tom laughed. "Now that he sees he can make money he's interested. Just add labels."
I have since only added labels on two of them, because they take a long time to do and I am usually tired and it's late and night, and seldom does it cross my mind to do it, actually. Oh well.
Mom told Tom that we had to go to Joshua Tree now, but thanked him for letting us see his rig and also it was great to talk to him, and Dad was the first to leave with the camera. Tom asked Mom if he could teach us a little bit about tennis, a subject we had talked about and that it needs all this endurance and psychology and knowing of giraffe's membrane bone tissue to be good at tennis. We used our hands and fake rackets to hit it against the wall, and he told us it needed balance and to have the eve on the ball and the opponent, and many other complicated trajectory and skill to master the ball. I personally think that it doesn't need that much thought, just relax and practice, and that he may of had too much mountain dew that day.
Sorry Tom.
Mom was walking the dogs and Ruby was barked at by our diva dog and excitable little creature. We went back with her and hustled into the car. I started the Ireland book Matt at a bookstore in Roswell had recommended, and it was very complex, about this old storyteller and Ronan, a small 9 year old, being enchanted by this story about Ireland being formed, all of the geology, fire and the ice age, all talked about in such a graceful manner and story teller form... man it was good. It changed fonts from the man's stories to a narrator in the real world, with no chapter names or numbers, which was different and unique. It was going to be one of the most best books I had ever read concerning history, and I read that a little, not all of the first few chapters, as the day got dimmer and dimmer. We had left at near three after Tom was disappointed that we couldn't watch his dog the next day (because we might do a museum after getting Joshua Tree done today) and then we had set off. There was mostly fast food Mexican restaurants for a long time, and then desert with palm trees and small flat cactus in a bunch, joined by large dusty boulders. It wasn't the best few as we trekked along on the highway, where more country music blazed and I couldn't hear anybody. Oh well.
It was already evening, and 6 o clock. We knew by past experience that National Parks closed at 5, so there was no reason for them to be open. However, we passed by what appeared to be a palm tree grove. The large boughs rose in the distance as we exited the freeway and emerged where the dim greeness and fauna was stationed. A small side-road, made of gravel and dirt, took us down a short lane to where a small gatehouse was abandoned. We moved on, wondering if this was a part of the National Park we had so dearly sought after. But it wasn't. A small sign told about it being a small State Recreation Area, and a little trailer with boardwalk told us that somebody must live here. We parked our car and timidly traveled in. It was dark and gloomy in the evening fading light, and flies danced overhead. There was seemingly no break to the shadeness of the place, and we could see no light besides small fissures in the leaves that streamed in. Well, of course it was the evening, but still. There were palm tree sticks laying all about, broken off and curved with a small ditch-like bottom on the other under side, to hold up the prehistoric leaves that were dark green and went out from each side. And then we saw it.
It was a thickly shaded building, of a round sort, that was khaki looking and was of wood beams. We looked through the foggy windows and saw some chairs stacked up, and many boxes, and outside were poles that had on them museum panels telling about the surrounding wildlife and the environment, animals and the weather. There were several trails going down and around the area, many paths to follow. There was an eerie quiet in the realm... until...
We heard people's voices to our right, and behind a large bushy area with many palm trees. Before that our family had been taking pictures and looking at the mystifying plants and the interesting gloom of the eve. Figures made out as we tramped over there, seeing young people, a boy and a girl, in shorts and carrying back packs and cameras, and with them some green pants green jacketed rangers, an old woman with short hair and an elderly man, pale skin and a wrinkled face, bright red even though are surroundings would not give clue to that. The young people, brown haired and fresh and airy as young people usually are, walked with their sticks while asking questions about the place. The lady was freckled and shorter, and the man strong and broad-shouldered. They said hello to us and the elderly couple told us that they were closing in just a few minutes and that the park would be closing. It was too bad, for it was a very pretty area that we were in. They let us go on one trail, and they suggested the one that they had come from, going downhill, that saw an especially spectacular grove of palm trees. We went down a little, and saw the etches of light entering the spots of the trees. It was great to see all the sunlight streaming, even though it was darker than most and the evening was here, the lights about to be gone.
We then reasoned that there was no reason to go down on that trail for a while and make these people work overtime and stay at their job longer than they were supposed to, and make them not have dinner just because a few tourists from Georgia wanted to see a Palm Oasis, as they told us it was called. We saw an enormous bush that Rebecca and I stepped in, tramping on the branches of the fallen leaves of the trees. It was all so eerie, quiet, and yet as we saw birds and even squirrels, teeming with life. I loved that scenery a lot that day, as we then went back and walked around in the general area, not striving to go away to the other sections. The people told us a lot of info about the forest and that they lived there, and that although it was closing time there was a midnight walk that saw wildlife by a guide that we could do. We said no to it, already a little puffed out by the day. My family and I talked to them a bit, and Rebecca and I, bored out of our minds, walked around and read the panels, about reptiles to skunks to squirrels to the ferns and how to classify animals, plus photosyth... I can't spell that. Mom and Dad talked to those people about a lot of stuff, even the economy. I looked through the windows and found a bamboo branch that I would carry to the next campground. Done with out picture taking, we slowly moved out, and thanked the people for being so nice to us and not kicking us out. I got in the jeep as Mom talked to the old lady in the gravel driveway and we watched the other people going away and away.
On our ride home, we decided to look at the original Palm Springs, which was the general area we were in. It has seen better days, just a main strip heaped up against a mountain of boutiques and girls stuff, and as we came in at almost dark, we went through here and peed at an old Burger King, swivel stools that were blue, and weird bland and yellow walls and stuff. An okay bathroom too. But anyway, we went through the outskirts with gas stations and subways, and headed home on the freeway. In it's day, Palm Springs was where all the stars hung out, in all these mountains and valleys for the westerns and all. This is where they had all their houses. So Palm Springs is really famous and really pretty and stuff, but not this original part. It still is really rich and wonderful however. And this was our last time really seeing it, before going to Joshua Tree tomorrow. We made it home as I was drowsy and dozing, too tired to read my book. We then arrived home and I walked the dogs with Mom, now energetic in the night breeze. I ran but then collapsed in my bed after telling Mom about our book. Sure, it wasn't the best day and we might of wasted it, but seeing the town we were at and the Oasis was fun, and it was very interesting to talk to Tom and see his rig. It's never a wasted day if you spend it doing SOMETHING.
Goodbye for now.
I can't find a better signature so I'll do this one: I like Palm Sunday and I liked Palm Springs! Yep, I know, it's pretty terrible,
Andrew. jj
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| Good to prevent "clanking" |
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| Bunkbeds |
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| Oasis in the middle of the desert |
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