Well, here we are again, my sincerely beloved public. I've very quickly descended once more into my terrible inability to keep up this blog. BUT NO MORE, I SAY! (I hope...) So, without further ado, here's the somewhat rushed but very belated post about The Transcontinental Grand Tour Extravaganza!
The
trip was absolutely splendid.
AJ and I had a great time.
West Texas surprised us with the postcard beauty of the
Guadalupe Mountains, which we never would have seen had our borrowed GPS not malfunctioned.
New Mexico was nice. It reminded me of trips there with my family when I was younger. Except this time there were pushy border patrol agents for some reason. Moving on into
Arizona, AJ and I entered the Grand Canyon State belting the chorus of what may well be
Jamie O'Neal's greatest hit at the top of our lungs. Video evidence exists of this, but I don't think I want that to see the light of day.
But
California! California was so much more wonderful than I could have imagined.
Los Angeles was wild and weird and surreal. I encountered so many unbelievable people and so many compelling stories. My week in L.A. might have been the single most interesting week of my life. I wandered all over the city while AJ was off weaving words into literary gold at his
retreat. Among the things I did: Lived in
Hollywood (which, though perhaps misleading, is how I will always describe it). Went to Mass where
Bing Crosby used to. Made a pilgrimage to some of the old stomping grounds of one of my favorite twentieth-century American poets,
Charles Bukowski. Saw a
Frank Lloyd Wright house. Met a very nice civil rights activist in front of a Chick-fil-A on
Sunset Boulevard. Took way too many photos of those
silly pink granite stars on the sidewalk. Went on a strange (and at least partially inaccurate) tour. Saw a bunch of houses that may or may not have belonged to
celebrities. Bought the obligatory queer theory text at a bookshop in
West Hollywood. Pretended I was a movie star on a stroll in
Beverly Hills. Wandered into the establishing shots for
some reality show on Rodeo Drive. Almost met
Kat Von D. Got lost in
Echo Park. Accidentally ate meat (I'm a vegetarian, for the record, but that menu was confusing). Took my first steps into the gorgeous
Pacific. Got guilted into buying two expensive demo CDs on the
Venice Boardwalk that I still haven't listened to...
Then AJ and I reunited and headed to
San Francisco. I fell madly in love with that City by the Bay, and I was heartbroken that we only really got one day to spend there. Our introduction to the area was a brief wrong turn into a charming
Italian cemetery in Colma (I like to think that my onetime mentor and adviser at St. Ed's,
Doug Dorst, would be proud). Our first and only full day began with a foggy stroll across the
Golden Gate Bridge, which has to be experienced for its magic to be even slightly understood. The sun came out as we crossed over into Marin County, and made for a very pleasant day. We met up with the ever-marvelous
Chelsey Little, who showed us around
The Mission and
The Castro, and made us feel perfectly welcome. And then, just like that, we had to leave this bizarre fairytaleland of California. I don't think I'll ever run out of inspiration from that impossible place.
This was followed by an ill-advised, two-day bus ride from
Tucson to Atlanta, spent sitting next to a young francophone man from (I think he said) Haiti, who continually borrowed my phone to call some relative(-in-law?) in Miami. The guy didn't speak English, but I happen to speak a moderate amount of
French, so I ended up translating a lot. I eventually found myself having to explain basically everything to him, which stretched my French-speaking skills to the breaking point. By the time I got to Atlanta, I was so ready to speak my native tongue again.
My time in Georgia with family was long-overdue, and I can't wait to see them again. My father,
Luis Valdés, recently published
a book, and it was great catching up with him, my stepmother, my brother, and my sister. But this, like the rest of the trip, ended much too soon. So it was back to Austin and back to my day-job. I'll leave it there for now, but I'll be back very, very soon with another post. Till then, stay well, dear ones.
Next post:
Of Literary Fulfillment!
Photos: Timothy Connor Dailey © 2012
