Happy September 11th! Is that what you're supposed to say now? Probably not...

Haven’t been able to get on the internet in Los Angeles, now in the confines of this Days Inn I have a connection.

Got to Los Angeles Saturday afternoon, on my airplane from Dallas to Burbank was Jamie Farr from M.A.S.H. fame; he seemed like a nice guy, talking to some folks while waiting for his luggage, his nose is as big as you would think, so perhaps the camera doesn’t add anything to noses on the television.

It’s early in the morning of the second day of my “trip within a trip”. I’m driving up the coast to San Francisco, and although I haven’t seen much actual coast as a good chunk of the drive yesterday was inland, I did get to see vast vineyards, strawberry fields complete with Mexicans with those hats they wear, etc. I’m staying in San Luis Obispo, arrived here yesterday afternoon. It’s a nice little town with plenty of little shops, college kids with presumably bad ideas in their heads, breathtaking views of mountains surrounding it. Of course by the end of the night last night I end up in some little area with a Starbucks, The Gap, Barnes and Noble, etc. I did find a great used book store where I found a book on the Beach Boys and the Nixon book All the Presidents Men which I’ve wanted to read for a while.

Speaking of reading, last night I went out to the little patio they have here where you can smoke and sit at a little table and started reading this Cormac McCarthy book, No Country for Old Men which started off pretty frighteningly intense. I scare myself easy, so now when I’m driving through any areas that are devoid of humans I am probably going to think of this book and hope I don’t get trapped anywhere in the middle of nowhere.

When I arrived at this hotel yesterday I was walking up to my room and there was an older gentleman outside smoking, probably late 60’s, shorter than me, one of those button-up cowboy shirts, glasses with tinted lenses, kind of a hardened look of someone definitely from the west. We exchanged words, made a joke about not being able to smoke in the rooms and that was that. This morning I was up at 6:30 or so as I presume I’m still on Eastern time, I went outside to check out the Continental Breakfast (which is a scam right? I wonder if anyone has ever left a Continental Breakfast and said to themselves “wow, that coffee was delicious, and fuck, I’m full, I won’t be able to eat for another five hours. Those little muffins and the lukewarm milk really hit the spot” A far cry from the absolutely delicious omelet I had before I left Los Angeles yesterday, which I’ve just remembered was far too expensive. A $17.00 breakfast for one person. I ordered orange juice, and when the bill came it was $3.95. Jesus, come on. I guess I could make a joke about how it was a Jewish deli but I won’t make that joke.) and I’m sitting at the little table outside smoking and I see my little smoker cowboy friend from the previous day. He’s opening the back of a van with tinted windows, pulls out a black trash bag and goes back to his room. I’m thinking he’s either filling that with empty Coors Light cans, or with the parts of the waitress he drugged and mutilated last night. I guess that’s my cue to move along now.

Today, to Monterey, Carmel, Santa Cruz, etc. I’ll obviously take pictures today as this is when it’s supposed to start with the beautiful views, etc. It’s now a bit past 8:00 AM so I’m out.