A Christmas Song by Jethro Tull
The message of the true holiday spirit is summed up in one line: “The Christmas Spirit is not what you drink.”
A Charlie Brown Christmas by Vince Guaraldi
This Christmas special was first aired in 1965. For whatever reason they did not spend a lot of money making this special; the sound and editing was poor, the actors were mostly inexperienced children and the network was appalled at the idea of having a jazz soundtrack for a cartoon. However, despite all that the night this show was broadcast it was reported that 50% of the televisions in the US were tuned to this show. Since then, A Charlie Brown Christmas has been televised every year. Touching on the over-commercialization and secularism of Christmas, what makes this soundtrack so compelling is how Guaraldi compositions paint a jazz landscape that musically captures Charlie Brown’s search for the meaning of the holiday, and finally his joy when his friends band together to show him.
Funky Christmas by James Brown
James makes the holiday funky highlighted by the track, Santa Claus Goes Straight to the Ghetto.
I Believe in Father Christmas by Greg Lake
I always find this to be one of the most underrated holiday songs. This is one of those songs where you really need to listen to the lyrics. The disillusionment of growing up and having the idyllic fantasy of Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus) be replaced with commercialism; the protagonist searches for meaning and redemption of Christmas. By the end he finds what he was missing. I prefer the original Lake/ELP version and not the remade, over-produced version found on the Rock N Roll Christmas collection.
New Wave Xmas: Just Can’t Get Enough
A fine collection that includes a few of my holiday favorites: Captain Sensible’s One Christmas Catalogue, local weirdo Root Boy Slim’s, Christmas at K-Mart, David Bowie and Bing Crosby’s 1977 rendition of Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy, and my second all time favorite holiday song, Fairy Tale of New York by The Pogues. There is always much discussion about weather this is the most depressing Christmas song ever or the most redemptive Christmas song ever. The song is a rumination of a drunk locked up on Christmas Eve. He reflects on how he and his love left the misery of Ireland for the promise of wealth in New York City only to suffer the fate of many an immigrant. Shane MacGowan and Kristy MacColl trade dialogue as the two lovers who at first revel in the excitement of coming to America and then once here quickly take out their disillusionment on each other with lines like, "Happy Christmas your arse / I pray God it's our last. What gives this song its tender moment is when he sings the chorus, “The boys of the NYPD choir, Still singing "Galway Bay", And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day”, you know that he is homesick for Ireland and the way things were. I’ll let you decide on your own.
Happy Christmas (War is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono
Released in December 1971 as part of Lennon and Ono’s “WAR IS OVER! (If You Want It) Happy Christmas from John and Yoko,” billboard campaign, this song did not even chart. Following the December 1980 murder of Lennon, it was on constant radio rotation. Lennon’s murder was a shock to the world, and in the 30 years since his death this song has become a mainstream of holiday music and holiday sentiment that has been covered by just about everybody (and not for the better).
Twelve Pains of Christmas by Bob Rivers
What frustrates you about the holidays? The undisputed king of holiday music parody has thought up twelve universally funny pains. This song is from the Twisted Christmas album, but I recommend any of Rivers holiday albums; all are funny. I also suggest the song I Am Santa Claus, which perfectly imitates Black Sabbath's heavy metal classic "Iron man". I laugh every time I hear it.
Baltimore’s David DeBoy’s Crabs for Christmas is a must have for all of those who can really appreciate the unique flair of all things “Bawlamer”. As a compliment, if you have never had the pleasure of Baltimore’s Miracle on 34th Street, I suggest that you trek on up to the Hampden neighborhood in Baltimore, put this album on your iPod, walk down the street and enjoy the one of a kind spectacle (and don’t forget dinner at the nearby Café Hon to complete the holiday kitsch).
A John Waters Christmas by John Waters
Speaking of Baltimore kitsch, Waters is king of it and has put together an album of some of his favorite holiday tunes. Believe it or not, this album is not as weird as you would think.
If you want more non-traditional holiday songs, Psychobilly Christmas and Little Steven’s (aka E Street Band guitarist Steven Van Zandt) Christmas A Go-Go are probably the hands down hippest collections of holiday songs out there.
For those punks out there, Punk Rock X-mas pulls together a collection of classic punk bands like the Ramones, Stiff Little Fingers, The Dickies and Mojo Nixion to help slam you into the holiday season.
How many songs can there be about Christmas in jail? More than you think. Bummed Out Christmas and Yule Be Miserable are a couple of nice collections. Don’t be fooled by the title, Blue Yule will have your holiday spirits lifted by the likes of Louis Jordan, John Lee Hooker, Lightnin' Hopkins, and Sonny Boy Williamson.
In 1963 producer wiz kid extraordinaire Phil Spector was kind enough to give us A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector; a collection of holiday songs by the Ronettes, the Crystals, Darlene Love and Bob B. Soxx, and the Blue Jeans. A flop at the time of its release, this record is now on Rolling Stone Magazines list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.
The Dr. Demento Presents: Greatest Christmas Novelty and Holidays in Dementia CD’s are must haves. All your holiday novelty classics are included here; Cheech & Chong's Santa Claus and His Old Lady, Green Chri$Tma$ and Christmas Dragnet by Stan Freberg, A Christmas Carol by Tom Lehrer, and Weird Al’s classical Christmas at Ground Zero. Since Christmas is not the only holiday to occur in December the doctor was kind enough to include Hanukkah Rocks by Gefilte Joe & the Fish and the best Hanukkah rap song ever, Hanukkah Homeboy. These albums are top choices on Joe Basso’s list of greatest Christmas albums of all time!
And finally, what would the holidays be without Charity. Ho Ho Ho Spice: A Hospice Awareness And Benefit Project and Holiday Heart: An Eclectic, Aural Celebration of Christmas and Chanukah are collections of “alternative-ish” Christmas songs for the national hospice awareness and benefit project; and local charity, Hungry for Music has a superb collection entitled Holiday Feast.
In closing, to take a line from Merry Xmas Everybody by Slade, “IT’S CHRRRISTMASSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!”
Cheers
Plus the rust and holes were repaired and the car was sanded down to bare metal.
Then entire car was primed and sanded in preparation for painting.
The color of choice is British Racing Green.
The first coat goes on. 
The second coat has dried and you can see the true color of the car. 
The interior, windscreen, lights, door handles, wheels and chrome have been installed. Holy 
"So, where's the broom?" 
We bought some cheese, sausage and bread and headed to our next stop; the petrified forest in Calistoga.
So here is a little lesson, trees in a petrified forest are not trees that have turned to stone. A petrified tree is actually a fossil. The trees here were knocked over when Mount St. Helena (do not confuse it with the volcano in Washington state, note the “a” on the end and not an “s”) about three million years ago. Following the eruption the trees were buried and as the trees decomposed the silica laden ash settled into the cervices of the decomposing trees. Basically, the decomposing tree is replaced with minerals (most often a silicate, such as quartz), while retaining the original structure of the wood and a stone mould forms in its place. The first petrified stump was discovered in 1871 when Charles Evans was tending his cows.
Next we headed to the geyser, Old Faithful. We knew we hit a good tourist trap with just the name, intentionally called old faithful to confuse you with the more famous one in Yellowstone. The geyser shoots a geothermal burst of hot water about 60 feet into the air for about three minutes every 40 minutes or so. People were sitting around in lawn chairs and at picnic tables scattered in the field waiting for the geyser to erupt. Once it erupted it sprayed a like a fountain for a good three minutes straight. The “hipster” kids at the table next to us joked out loud exactly what I was thinking, that with the rocks strategically placed at the base of the geyser that it was probably just a big fountain . And to add to the complete tourist trap feel of the place they had a bamboo maze and a petting zoo, just in case a stream of water was not enough to hold your attention.
Since we were in Napa we figured that we should at least check out a couple of wineries. We read about one, Sterling, where you take a tram ride 300 feet up to the winery. Knowing how much Devon loves heights, it seemed like the natural choice, so off we went!
The winery was big, and the view of the valley was very nice, but it had that feel of the places that they made fun of in the movie Sideways, but since we paid our fee we were off to get our samples of wine. 
The tour was a self-guided tour, which means you walk around and check things out and there are people handing out samples.
The first one we tried was a chardonnay that was described to us as “buttery.” On first sip, darn if they were not right, it was. It was crisp and cool and because of it being somewhat warm out, tasted really good. On second sip, it did not taste as good, and on third it tasted downright yucky. In fact, every wine we tried here had the same degrade in taste with each sip, and we tried six!
Feeling that all wineries are the same, and anywhere from $10 to $40 a pop to tour, we decided to head on over to Jack London state park and poke around instead. However, along the way, we came across a much smaller, family owned winery called Benziger (not to be confused with Beringer). Being off the beaten path of the larger wineries, we decide that since we were in Napa would at least try one other place and this one seemed like a perfect alternative to the place we visited earlier. This winery had a completely different feel, all organic, smaller- oh and the wine was good too!
We even ended up buying a few bottles before heading up to the park. Jack London is the much famed author of such outdoors novels as White Fang and Call of the Wild. In 1905, London purchased a 1,000 acre abandoned winery in hopes of making it a ranch. He wrote that "Next to my wife, the ranch is the dearest thing in the world to me." He desperately wanted the ranch to become a successful business enterprise. He built a home there called the Wolf House, which was destroyed by fire and whose ruins are visible within the state park property. On November 22, 1916, Jack London died of a cause that is still disputed today. He wished that he would be cremated and his ashes were placed under a bolder from the frame of the house.
After London died, his wife Charmian inherited the property. During that time she built a house on the property called the House of Happy Walls, which in a way is a smaller version of the Wolf House. Charmian lived there until her death in 1955. In her will, she wanted the house she built to become a museum in honor of her husband. This was eventually the start of the Jack London State Historic Park, which opened in 1959. We only had a bout 15 minutes in the park because they closed earlier than we thought, so we had just enough time to walk up to where London’s ashes were spread and walk past Happy Walls. We then hopped back into the car and headed to San Francisco.
The red color of the bridge was originally the color of the undercoat, the bridge was to be painted gray, but the locals liked color so much they kept it. Despite its red appearance, the color of the bridge is officially an orange vermilion called international orange. 
Coming into the city across this amazing example of a suspension bridge is dramatic enough, but once you cross and you see the hills this city is built upon, your breath is literally taken away.
Built after the 1906 earthquake and fire destroyed most of San Francisco, Bank of America founder A.P. Giannini constructed a new hotel at 2237 Mason Street, close to the shoreline and shipyards at the edge of North Beach. Giannini named his 62-room three-story Italianate Victorian the “New California Hotel” — an optimistic vision of San Francisco’s rebirth. Free meals and rooms were given to many workers who assisted the city’s recovery. (In the spirit of Giannini, rooms were offered without charge to victims of the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake). In 1922 the hotel was renamed the San Remo, after the name of a picturesque Italian town on the Gulf of Genoa. After years of decline it was bought and remodeled in 1971, the hotel remains as a time capsule, the style and furnishings still from a hundred years ago including shared baths. Knowing how much I hate hostels, when we booked this place Devon was afraid that I hate it here, especially since they have shared baths, but once we got in and I saw the place I loved it. This place was far from a hostel, it is a true gem in the world of sterile lodging. I tried to get a bunch of photos, but the small halls and rooms of an establishment built in 1906 made it really difficult.
I wonder if he is any relation to Sam – is someone playing some jazz? (for those of you who do not know, Sam, my dog, howls, at all types of music, but mostly anything with horns).
Showered and ready we headed over to Pats Café, recommended by the desk clerk, for breakfast. The weather outside was overcast and quite chilly. We had learned that in San Fran, the mornings start off overcast and cool, the clouds usually burn off by mid morning and while still cool, one needs to have a sweater to keep comfortable. What was the Mark Twain quote, "The coldest winter I ever saw was the summer I spent in San Francisco." Like a pilgrim heading to Lourdes, we began our trip to Amoeba Records . Being in San Fran we were excited to take the cable cars and street cars to our destination. As we walked up to the car, the operator came up and told us that the electricity was out and any car heading in the direction we were going was not working. 
He suggested a couple of bus routes for us to take, and being good citizens conscious of the importance of public transportation we decided to not take our car and just take the bus. Riding up Van Ness, Devon began to feel car sick so we got off. We decided to walk a bit. With map in hand we plotted our course, unfortunately I had the map in the wrong direction so unknown to us we were heading in the wrong direction! As we were walking down the street we began to notice that everyone we saw was a homeless person. Partially due to the whole going to San Fran 60’s vibe and partially due to San Fran being notorious for the excellent care and benefits available for the homeless, they have an amazing amount of homeless (someone even told us that other cities bus their homeless here and leave them). One thing unique about the homeless here is their honesty. In DC the homeless say they are a vet or have children to feed or will work for food, but in SF they say, “Can you give me some money so I can buy some drugs and alcohol?” By this time we were very aware that we were not in a good part of town. In fact, later on we learned that we were in an area called the “Loin” short for Tenderloin. The Loin is one of the poorest and most dangerous areas in San Fran. Because it is located between a Civic Center and Union Square and not far from Market Street many wayward tourists find themselves wandering through there. Of course we did not know this at the time, all we knew was we were not in a good part of town. Keeping our best city walk - walking like you belong, but not looking anyone in face - we quietly continued on our route hoping that we’d soon be out of the area. Walking, we approached a couple of people who were sitting on the curb. They were facing a parked car and as we walked past them I looked down just in time to see a woman pushing the plunger down on the syringe that was inserted in her arm. I was shocked by this. Shaken by what I had just witnessed, I was sickened and nauseated but did not show any reaction and continued with our “city walking” until the sound of footsteps behind me took my mind away from drugs to theft. Convinced we were about to be mugged, I prepared myself on how to react (wondering if I could run faster then Devon was one). The footsteps trailed off after a few feet and the fear of the situation dissipated. A few minutes later we reached Market Street and safety, but by this point we were both jaded and angry with this city AND it is almost 11:00, still cold and the clouds have not turned to sunny skies. We eventually found our way via walking and public transportation to 
We spent at least two hours in the place, and with the memory of our morning fading away we left only because our hunger was preventing us from continuing on (just to give you an idea, we each spent $130 in the place). Among my purchases of Billy Bragg, Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, Elvis Costello, Nouvelle Vague, Led Zeppelin, and a four disc box set of 70's punk; I also picked up a vinyl copy of the Public Image Limited album titled metal box. It's a collection of six PIL EP’s contained in a metal box resembling a film canister (more fun concerning this purchase later on as we head out to the desert). 
As we emerged from the store it was still really cloudy and cold out, and quite a wind was blowing in off the bay. So much for burning off. We walked up the infamous Haight Street and worked our way to a place called The Red Victorian, a relic of the 60’s hippie era, promoting world peace and herbal tea, where we compared our purchases and enjoyed a nice lunch in a very earthy crunchy place . (Hey, I was shocked they were not promoting world peace through herbal tea!) 
Really disappointed with the weather and somewhat jaded by our morning adventures we debated on where to go next. We decided to walk through Golden Gate Park, just down the hill from where we were. But the abundance of homeless and the cold, gray, windy weather caused us to abandon this idea quickly, saying to hell with public transportation and we hailed a cab back to the hotel. It is now about 4:00 and, I kid you not, as the cabbie pulled over to drop us off the sun came out and we were now greeted with nice sunny weather! The sun revealed to us that our hotel is very close the infamous Lombard Street. As Bill Cosby said in the same routine mentioned earlier, “Not only does Lombard Street go straight up and straight down, but they put groves and turns in it and flowers where they buried the people who killed themselves driving on this street”.
The walk up to the twisty part of the street was very steep, and when we reached the base, the place was just packed with tourists taking photos and walking to the top via the steps. Plus, all the cars traveling down the street (it is only one way) are tourists, my guess is locals wisely stay the hell away from this street. But I have wanted to see his street since I was a boy so I was one of the many tourists walking the stars up to the top. To be honest, the view of the city from the top is spectacular.
We head down the hill and stop off in a café for a drink and manage to catch Al Gore’s endorsement speech for Obama (who knew the guy could speak so passionately!). Tonight we were meeting Devon’s friend Nate and his roommate for dinner. Still shaken up by our experience earlier in the day and lousy weather we were hoping for something to redeem this city for us. They picked us up and we told them of our misadventures, Nate said that everyone he knows who comes to the city winds up in the Loin and that the weather was not typical for SF, making us feel better. They took us to a little hipster Italian joint in the Lower Mission area called Emmy’s Spaghetti Bar. It is small and dark and noisy and we have to spend some time in the little Hispanic bar next door waiting for our table. The night and the restaurant are exactly what we need to redeem the day. The food was great and the atmosphere was relaxed. After, Nate took us back to our hotel via Lombard Street; at midnight, there are no tourists. It was was a blast driving down the famous street with no one around. Thank you Nate! The next morning Devon went to a little café down the street to get us some coffee. She came back to the room and declared that the weather outside is gorgeous. We checked out, got the car, and decided to take advantage of the nice weather and see a little more of the city before heading to Yosemite. First we haed over the Presidio which is the old army base near the Golden Gate bridge that is now a park. The funny thing is Golden Gate Park is not the park near the bridge, the Presidio is. The park is nothing special, in fact it just looks like a military base. 
We walked over to Fort Point (this is the fort that was built during the Civil War to help protect the bay - the bridge is actually built over the fort. And even more noteworthy, this is the place where Kim Novak jumps into the bay in Vertigo) to take some photos of the bridge. On the way out we walked around the remaining buildings built for the Panama Pacific International Exposition of 1915. After the exposition the domed Place of Fine Arts was the only structure kept standing. Today it is the home to the Exploritirium, a sort of hands on museum. 
Today a major refurbishment is underway to preserve the building so there is not much to see except the weeping figures on the colonnade; which were designed to represent the melancholy of life without art.
I always associate the building with the movie Vertigo when James Stewart and Kim Novak walk along the pond, even with the scaffolding, it is still a very pretty place.
The pond was filled with ducks and geese frolicking around. This fellow literally followed me around posing for pictures.
And I absolutly loved this turtle. By the way his head is sticking up and the way his flippers are swept back, I suspected that in his mind he was thinking that he was flying at a 100 miles per hour!
Our yurt was big and round and had a full kitchen, bath, gas fireplace and cable TV and ours had a very nice view from the deck. 
We went to a local restaurant called Buckmeadows for an awful and very expensive dinner. After dinner we found a nice market and kicked ourselves for not finding it earlier cause we could have cooked a meal in our kitchen. We got back and sat out on the deck, enjoyed some wine and watched the moon rise, and then we decided to watch some TV. I forced Devon to watch Charlton Heston over acting his way through the last few minutes of Planet of the Apes (“You maniacs…you blew it up!! Damn you all to hell” – brilliant). The next morning we got up early and headed out to the park.
The first thing that catches our attention is the remarkable 620 foot high Bridalveil Fall on the right. To the left stands the single most impressive wall of sheer granite you will ever see. Protruding like a monolith , El Capitan is a 3,593 feet vertical rock formation; the 320 acre vertical wall is a favorite of rock climbers. 
We drove around a bit and walked around the visitors center for a while and then walked over to the Upper and Lower Yosemite Falls. The Upper Falls are a 1430 foot drop and the lower are 320; combined they are the highest falls in North America. 
Walking back to the car we saw Half Dome, one of the most famous sites in Yosemite. Called the Half dome because the rock looks like a dome where half has been sliced away. 
This tree became famous when in 1899 a group of cavalry officers and their horses posed for a photo on tree.
We headed back out of Yosemite the way we came to start our very long drive to Death Valley. As we cross over the to the eastern side of Yosemite the terrain changed drastically and the low brush and tress give way to barren rock and trees. Along the way we decided to rest for a bit at Tenaya Lake. 
Almost out of the park we stopped at a park station. All throughout Yosemite there were signs near the water fountains saying how the drinking water in Yosemite is some of the best in the world because the depth and rock filtering, blah, blah, blah. We pretty much ignored these signs, and now that we were almost outside the park we decide to fill up our water bottles. And damn if they were not right! Yosemite water was the best water I have ever had, it was so good I wished we had filled up gallon jugs of the stuff. If you are ever there I cannot encourage you enough to try it. Once out of the park we see the highest price for gas. By now we have gotten used to it being anywhere from $4.50 to $5.50 a gallon, but here we saw it for $6.75! Greedy bastards. After miles of twisty mountain roads I really enjoyed the opportunity to cruse on straight open roads in the convertible. I have to say, Springsteen is great music to have blasting with the top down.
Unfortunately, even with the sun beyond the horizon and darkness falling, once we drove into the valley the air became dramatically hot. Eventually, the heat got to be too much so we had to pull over and put the top up. By the time we reached Furnace Creek Ranch, our hotel, it was 10:00 pm and 103 degrees out. Originally built as a working ranch in the 1880's and later the home of the famous twenty mule teams, the Furnace Creek Ranch had the feel of something out of Disney’s frontierland campground. Starting in the 1880’s the area around Furnace Creek was mostly borax mines. Borax has a wide variety of uses its most common is a component of many detergents and anyone my age and older remembers that the advertising campaign for a cleanser called Borax was a 20 mule team. 
The twenty mule team wagons were among the largest ever pulled by horses, designed to carry 10 short tons of borax ore at a time (I have no idea what a short ton is). There were two wagons each measuring 16 feet long and constructed of solid oak. When loaded with ore, the two wagons and a 500 gallon water tank combined for a total weight of 73,200 pounds; with the mules, the caravan stretched over 100 feet. The mule teams were used from 1883 to 1889 to move a 30-ton load using two large wagons with a third wagon for food and water drawn by a 24-mule team over a 160-mile stretch of desert to the nearest railhead.
The solution: Ask the front desk clerk at the hotel if they will hold the record for us while we go out. They agreed and off we went in the heat to go exploring. There is a good reason why Death Valley is the hottest place on earth. With less then an inch and a half of rain a year the valley sits at sea level or below and is surrounded by four very tall mountain ranges. 
The mountains basically prevent any moisture from reaching the valley floor and since there is no shade or vegetation in the valley the dry air gets trapped by the mountains where it pretty much stays there and heats up like giant oven filled with sand (oh and by the way, the thermometer in the photo blow reads 110, and yes it was actually in the shade!). 
The first place we went to explore was the Mosaic Canyon; a bit of a drive off the highway, the entrance to canyon appears deceptively ordinary, but just a 1/4 mile walk up, the canyon narrows dramatically to a deep slot cut into the face of Tucki Mountain. Smooth, polished marble walls enclose the trail as it follows the canyon's sinuous curves. 
This canyon was formed through a process of cut and fill which included periodic erosive floods followed that deeply cut the streambed our from the rock forming the canyon. 
With the temperature rising the next obvious site to visit was the sand dunes near Stovepipe Wells. I had decided that I wanted to hike out to the dunes to get some pictures. Already 110 out Devon proclaimed me crazy and said she'd wait in the air conditioned car. As I set out into the desert two things immediately became apparent. One, no matter how hard you try you will have the song Horse With No Name continually looping through your head (“I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name, it feels good to get out of the rain” over and over again). The second is, in the desert, things are a lot father away then they appear. I was attempting to get to some dunes that have an interesting swirl at their peak. 
I had no idea how far the dunes were from the car, but to get an idea I walked to the top of a dune where I saw a small black speck along the long road that bisects the desert – that was the car (see it? Right past the row of green). 
It was pretty hot out, but really it was not as bad as I feared and walking along the ridge of a dune, surrounded by rich blue skies and complete quiet was one of the more satisfying experiences of the trip. Additionally, the walk on the dunes provided me with some great photos. While out there I wondered how long it would be before Devon completely freaks and considers me dead. I had not reached the dunes with the swirls because, to be honest, climbing to the top of sand dunes is really, really hard. I sat for a bit, enjoyed the quiet, caught my breath, sang one more chorus of Horse With No Name in my head, and decided to head back. Good thing I turned back when I did because the walk back was also difficult because to keep my bearings of where the car was I had to keep climbing to the top of the dunes. I get back to the car exactly one hour after I left; Devon said she was gonna give me an hour and half before truley worrying; good thing I didn’t linger!
Next we drove to Rhyolite, Nevada, a ghost town near the eastern edge of Death Valley. The town came into existence as the result of a gold rush that began in 1904. By 1907, the town had electricity with an estimated population of 3,500 to 10,000. The Panic of 1907 is believed to have adversely affected the town's economy and production began to slow down by 1908 and by 1910 only an estimated 675 people remained in Rhyolite.The mine and mill were closed in 1911, the lights and power were turned off in 1916. Ahh the good times never seem to end, but they did by 1919, the post office had closed and the town was abandoned. The remains of a few buildings are left but are really not that interesting, 
the old general store, 
the bank, 
and a store front. 
What is interesting is just outside the town; the spectacular Goldwell Open Air Museum. Originated by the late artist Albert Szukalski the area consists of seven outdoor sculptures that include a ghostly cyclist;
a 25-foot high pixilated nude woman made of cinder blocks; 
a 24-foot high steel prospector accompanied by, naturally, a penguin;
a mosaic sofa; 
a carved winged woman atop a wooden totem; 
and an extremely impressive haunted interpretation of the Last Supper. 
To make the life-size ghost figures, Szukalski wrapped live models in fabric soaked in wet plaster and posed them as in the painting "The Last Supper" by Leonardo Da Vinci. When the plaster set, the model was slipped out, leaving the rigid shroud that surrounded him. Szukalski then coated the figures with fiberglass making them impervious to weather. 
We hopped back into the car headed back to Furnace Creek to rescue my record, have lunch and then to make our way to Joshua Tree. Along the way we stopped in Baker California, basically a little cluster of gas stations and fast food restaurants, which has two really cool points of interest, one is the worlds tallest thermometer. 
At 134 feet it commemorates the highest temperature ever recorded in North America, 134 degrees in 1913. Today it reads a cool 107. And just as strange, the other interesting place to stop is The Mad Greek. A really fantastic Greek restaurant (they also have an extensive Mexican menu as well) decorated in that typical Greek over the top style.
As a tribute to my good friend Demitri back in Greece I had a beef souvlouki, which was excellent; this one was for you my friend!
Joshua Tree
This was not entirely the reason we are staying here. I was looking for a place to stay and this place was reasonably priced and looked kinda nice. When looking for rooms I noticed that they had a Gram Parsons room (and an Emmylou Harris room). I knew the story of what happened to him after he died and I thought the hotel was attempting to capitalize on this. When I told Devon about the room she asked me if he had died there, I looked it up and found out he did.
Gram’s legacy in Joshua Tree did not end on that night in 1973, in fact it had just began. Here is where it gets interesting. Gram made sure to tell his friends that when he died he wanted his ashes spread in Joshua Tree. However his family wanted his body returned because his slimy step-father would financially benefit by inherating Gram's money if Gram was buried in Louisiana. Before his casket could be returned, his friends stole it from the airline and took it out the desert, poured five gallons of gasoline into it and lit it on fire. What the fire did not completely cremate was returned to his family and buried in New Orleans.
Billy is a really nice guy and as we approach the room he told us more of the story following Gram’s “cremation”. He explained that on the spot in the desert where the cremation was attempted fans began to make pilgrimages, drink, do drugs and leave offerings. Eventually on the spot some people put a concrete slab as a marker, writing on the slab, “Gram – Safe at Home.” Billy points to an area outside a room and says, “Since Joshua Tree is a national park, the park service couldn’t have the marker out there, so we dug it up and brought it here” The slab is cluttered with liquor bottles and other objects left in memoriam. Billy continues, “People come here and leave all sorts off stuff, sometimes they even leave drugs”, concluding with a disapproving “I mean, come on…” 
The room is not fancy, but very nice and quite inviting. The walls are concrete block and decorated with a few Gram posters. The curtains and blinds give the room a reddish color and bed is big and inviting. In fact this bed was the most comfortable hotel bed I have ever slept in.
On the desk next to the bed is a CD player and a homemade best of Gram CD and a few books. One is a homemade scrapbook of Gram’s life, legacy and death; the other is called The Sacred Heart Journal, where pilgrims staying in the room can write Gram a letter. Devon reads the entries for a bit; most of the letters thanking him for all the great music. For the most part Gram's music is not played much any more, probably his most famous song, is a cover of the Everly Brothers tune Love Hurts (most of us remember the really bad version by Nazareth, a staple of 70's prom slow dances).
What surprises me is 35 years after he died, people still come here to pay their respects (Every September there is Gramfest music festival) and I wonder how long his legacy will sustain him. I really like this hotel and I lament that if it were not for this guy dying here it probably would have disappeared years ago, but I come realize that there is a symbiosis here, that each one needs the other to survive, and somehow this notion seems to make prefect sense to me. We then decide to go and sit next to the pool, it is early evening and though the sun is no where near setting it is reasonably comfortable out compared to the heat of Death Valley. Sitting on the edge of the pool with our feet dangling in the water, we lay back looking up at the few palm and Joshua trees and the rich blue sky. With the exception of an occasional passing truck piercing the silence the seclusion and tranquility of this place reminds me of a monastery. It is perfect- Devon didn’t want to leave- ever. Hungry, we went out and got a pizza for dinner and returned to the room and we sat outside the room for a while enjoying the night and the moon in the presence of the Gram alter. We slept well, and thankfully we were not visited in our dreams by the sprit of Gram. 
The next day as we’re checking out, we ask Billy if he’d be willing to hold my record while we head out to the park. Billy graciously agrees. The landscape in Joshua Tree is interesting, mountainous formations of boulders that look like they had been placed on top of one another jut up off the flat desert floor. 
In addition to the rock the Joshua Tress are scattered all over the desert. Looking somewhat alien, the tress stand tall over the low brush covering the ground. Most of the trees are 10 to 20 feet tall, with some reaching as high as 40 feet, which is quite spectacular considering that on the average they grow only an inch a year (making the taller trees up to a 1000 years old). 
Technically, they are not trees but a type of yucca from the agave family (which some tequila is made out of; this may be why Gram Parsons liked the park so much!). The trees got their names from Mormons in the 1850’s who imagined that the branches of the trees were the arms of Joshua leading them to the promised land. Looking out into a big open valley of the trees I can see what they were talking about; I get the sense that the trees are an alien army on the march, almost beckoning me to come out to and join them. 
We keep the Mormon alien tree army waiting for the moment because first we have decided to visit a rock formation called Hidden Valley. The area got it its name because the surrounding rock formations seclude a large valley that was once used by cattle rustlers to hide their haul. Hidden Valley is now a one mile loop nature walk. Naturally you become quickly aware of why the rustlers liked this place for their hideout, but now a clearly marked trail accompanied by information plaques is all this valley hides. The walk is an enjoyable one, but we didn’t get to see too much wild life except for small lizards, jackrabbits and small squirrel looking critters that jump out of the brush and hop down the trial as if almost daring you to chase them, luring you into a trap just around the next bend. I had thought it cute the way these little rodents bounced down the trail much like a kangaroo; I later learned that they were called kangaroo rats! Sorry, no photo, the little suckers a quick. (Interesting tidbit: the kangaroo rat has very efficient kidneys. As a result these rodents can produce urine that is so concentrated that they never have to drink; the water produced metabolically within their cells during oxidation of food is sufficient to maintain their body and they lose water mainly by evaporation during gas exchange).
The fluffy tops have been said to resemble teddy bears, but to touch one of these the microscopic barbs on these soft slivery bristles will cause them to imbed deep into your skin and detach from the bush. The stems of this cactus detach easily thus giving them the illusion of jumping. The ground around a mature plant is often littered with scattered cholla balls and small plants starting where these balls have rooted. Desert pack rats such as the Desert Woodrat gather these balls around their burrows, creating a defense against predators. 
Sometimes called the Stagecoach, the Cold Spring Tavern was built in 1865 as a way-station to serve travelers on the new "turnpike" over the San Marcos pass. 
The coaches would stop here to change horses and add two more in order to get over the mountain. The stop also allowed the passengers to enjoy a meal at the tavern.
The place is located along a twisty mountain road and if you don’t know about it (and you get the sense the locals are perfectly fine with keeping this place a secret) you are not going to just stumble upon this place. Everyone just sits around having drinks and listening to what seems like a constant rotation of folk musicians preform.
We stay for awhile enjoying the calm and tranquility and have snack at the inn. The interior is very rustic, in fact to keep with the frontier feel of the place there are no electric lights inside. We head back into town to meet Samantha’s family for dinner. The restaurant, Joe’s Place, is noisy and crowded and hectic and stressful, a rather dramatic change from the relaxed atmosphere outside the inn, and because of this, Joe’s becomes the third of the disappointing namesake restaurants we ate at. The next day is Samantha’s graduation ceremony. One of the really cool things about the ceremony is since everyone is in the visual arts, as they walk across the stage to receive their diploma, a sample of their work is shown on a screen behind them. I however, am not an artist so my attempt to get a cool shot of Samatha walking across the stage with her photo behind her came out as blurry mess.
We leave and head up the coast but we continue to see signs that say the road is closed. Finally we stop at a really cool looking hotel on a bluff high above the beach and ask what the story was. They tell us that there is a forest fire in Bug Sur and the road and the park are closed. This news really sucks not only because of the fire but because we were really looking forward to seeing the park. Oh well. We head back down the coast and inland to head north. We drove through farm country where we saw acre upon acre of California produce fields and over the hills to our left we see the lingering smoke from the fires.
