Jill Rants and Raves: from merle haggard to mecca and back via mozart and the coalinga stockyards

from merle haggard to mecca and back via mozart and the coalinga stockyards

I went on a roadtrip with my dog. We went looking for wildflowers, but it's always the things you aren't looking for that make the journey worthwhile. We were gone for 1400 miles and came back the better for it. The road less traveled took us along freeways and highways, and then into canyons where there was nothing but real silence, the only sound from the tinkling of Calvin's dog tags. I took his collar off and my dog and I lay down in the late afternoon shade of 75 degrees and waited for sound that didn't come and slept. When I awoke, we hiked between the rock face and I photographed a flower that doesn't grow anywhere else. We stayed in motels and with friends along the way. Anderson, Joy, Diviana and I went to the opening of a Gender photo exhibit in LA and I reminded Phranc of our younger days in London, we ate vegan Thai food in West Hollywood (of course) and I drank a Peroni with my pasta in Indio. We walked through the palm groves in Mecca and ignored the '4 wheel drive only' notices so that we could drive the dirt road into Painted Canyon, we were surrounded by pelicans at the Salton Sea and saw the abandoned buildings, the long shuttered cafes with their fading painted signs, met Godzilla the cat in Bombay Beach and the dogs on the roof and the burnt out remains of a town on the edge of official neglect. I re-met old friends and met new ones, hung with a border collie and a shepherd mix in Palm Springs, and pee'd in the desert at Coachella, ate at Shermans Jewish Deli in Palm Springs and remembered that I am more Merle Haggard Drive in Bakersfield than Bob Hope Drive in Rancho Mirage. I learned what a date shake is and a celery soda and on the way back made a pilgrimage of sorts, back to the beginnings of my American journey and took the turn to Tehachapi where I had eaten at a diner on my first visit in 1986. I walked through the door and ordered the same meal - eggs over medium, bacon, with hash browns, and they don't charge for the coffee. I smiled as I drove past Buttonwillow on my way home and fondly remembered the tamales from Tita's Salvadorean cafe which I'd shared with Calvin on our first night away from home. And then in Merle's hometown I grabbed my latte while the Starbucks played Mozart on the sound system, and then headed out into the noonday sun for the drive home, and as we headed up Highway 5 alongside the pistachio and apricot farms, we headed past the stench and the misery of the Coalinga stockyards and I hit the button on the ipod and Bronski Beat and 'Tell me why'...