The Desert Riviera

“Take some snacks.” Those three words best summarize what this little hotel, the Desert Riviera,” is all about. They were spoken by Larry, the owner, as Helaine and I were about to leave for Joshua Tree. He was offering bags of pretzels, chips and cookies.

This is a definite departure for us. Helaine and I try to stay in well known national chains when we’re on the road. Not so this time. The Desert Riviera is an independent boutique hotel.

We looked at TripAdvisor, where the first Palm Springs listing was for this hotel. Not bad, since order is dependent on member rating.

The comments associated with the hotel fit within two categories: “I love this place” and “There are too many good reviews without any bad – it can’t be true. Beware!”

The reviews are true. This place is a gem. I can’t think of anything bad to say… OK, a few little things, but so tiny as to be inconsequential.

The Desert Riviera is a ten room hotel run by Larry, his wife Patty, and his sister Judy. As he tells it:

Our love affair with the hotel literally began just a few months ago, when Patty and I happened to stroll past and noticed a For Sale sign in front of a very tired but charming small old hotel. As they say… the rest is history. Little did we know, we were about to add another gem to the growing number of mid-century masterpieces brought back from the edge of oblivion.

Our room is modern with accents that scream 1950s. It’s dominated by a king sized bed. On the wall is a large flat panel TV. Off to the side are a bathroom with stall shower and stoveless kitchen. Our room… in fact each of the ten rooms borders the pool.

Every time I walk out of the room, I see what’s in this photo. It’s like I’m in a private residence or club. There’s the pool with stark desert mountains as the backdrop.

There are chaises – certainly more than there are guests. Around the clock, each chaise has a pool towel folded over its reclining head. The pool (currently an amazing 88&#176) is lit and open around the clock.

Adjacent to the pool is the fire pit I’ve written about before (and where I’m sitting now, writing) and a hot tub. There are also a few round tables with umbrellas to block the harsh desert sun.

Limo transportation is provided for free, both to the airport and into town. There are also a few bikes (including a bicycle built for two) in front of the office.

Either Larry or Judy is always here. They run the place as if it’s their reputation on the line. Of course, it is.

Yesterday, Helaine pointed out there are no telephones in the rooms. They’re really not necessary anymore, are they? I can’t think of any adult who doesn’t travel with a phone in his pocket. Anyway, the office is only a few steps away.

As if to make up for it, there’s a cordless phone in the vestibule leading into the office. It’s available to guests for making free calls around-the-world.

There is no way a chain hotel or even larger independent could be as accommodating as Larry and Judy are. With ten rooms, they really do know our names.

So, what’s the downside? The hotel is pretty close to a main road, so you do hear the traffic a little. It was worse when the motorcycles were in town, but I’m guessing that was universal within Palm Springs. I also found the water temperature in the shower fluctuated a lot (though the pressure is great and the towels are large and fluffy).

This was a very positive experience for us. I would definitely come back. It’s also encouragement to find this kind of place when we travel elsewhere… if this kind of place actually exists elsewhere!

Viva And All That Stuff

From zion to vegas

Helaine packed before we had breakfast at the hotel. We like Springdale and like the Best Western there. I usually associate Best Western with a lesser class of hotel. It’s not true here.

Yes, the room was nice. Yes the staff was friendly and helpful. OK, it’s our third hotel in a row with bad water pressure and bad shower heads. No one’s perfect.

What sets this place apart is how it’s built for its locale. At the end of every hallway and beyond the lobby are outdoor areas for sitting and watching the mountains. The rest of the hotel just fits too.

From zion to vegas

We left for the bus stop and I started taking pictures. A nearby mountaintop, around 3,800 feet higher in elevation than the town, was snow covered! It is only mid-October.

We hopped the shuttle to the Zion National Park entrance, flashed the pass we’d bought yesterday as we passed through in our car, and hopped on the park shuttle.

Both the town and park’s shuttle are paid for by the National Park Service. It’s a great idea. The road through town and the road in the park (where virtually no other traffic is allowed) were uncongested. We never waited more than a few minutes for transportation.

From zion to vegas

Our driver in the park was Kristine. Since we had her coming and going, I can tell you she doesn’t have an incredibly deep repertoire, but she was anxious to talk about the park, its sights and its history.

With the overnight rain the ground was a little soggy. Water flowed in many, though not all, the brooks and streams we saw. Low clouds hung over the mountains.

From zion to vegas

If this was our only day at Zion, I would have been upset. However, yesterday we saw how the mountains looked in bright sunshine. Today was a contrast, a more moody look.

We took the shuttle to Weeping Rock. This was our original fair weather plan. We wanted an easy hike which would give us a nice vantage. This trail ran about 1/2 mile, though at a significant incline.

From zion to vegas

We got off the bus and looked around. We were alone in a canyon with walls thousands of feet tall. It was majestic and humbling. I can’t imagine how the first settlers, Native Americans and Caucasians, found their way here. I can understand why they loved its beauty.

I checked. No cell service. Sorry to ruin the moment.

We walked to the trail’s end, at an overhang at the edge of a sheer rockface. Water from last night’s rain came dripping from the overhang, and flowing in a few small, but long, waterfalls.

From zion to vegas

A few more pictures and we were back at the bus stop, waiting for Kristine (or someone like her). Helaine and I decided Zion National Park was the most beautiful of our stops.

From zion to vegas
From zion to vegas
From zion to vegas
From zion to vegas

Back at the hotel, Helaine checked at the front desk to make sure our directions toward Las Vegas were correct. The desk clerk told her to take the left at the first traffic light and then added, “It’s 17 miles away.”

We also got some traffic tips: They seriously enforce the speed limit in the next few towns. “They even ticket locals,” he said. I heeded his warning as we headed out through the Hurricane Valley. It’s tough to drive 40, 35 and even 20 mph in a school zone (where the kids were, after all, in class).

From zion to vegas

Moving away from Springdale, we still saw mountains alongside the road, but they just weren’t up to Zion’s standard. The bar had been set high.

From zion to vegas

We drove Route 9 through Virgin (of course we shot the sign) and Hurricane to I-15. Helaine hoped our time on twisty mountain roads was over. Not quite yet. There was still the Virgin River Gorge to transverse.

From zion to vegas

The speed limit went from 75 to 65 and finally 55 mph. There were yellow signs, signifying caution, everywhere. Steep grades – yes. Strong crosswinds – of course. Sharp curves – what then?

The mountains were bleached white, sharply formed and perilously close to the roadway. We crossed bridges marked “Virgin River” at least a half dozen times, maybe more.

Helaine gripped whatever she could find and hoped for the best. She helped me down the mountain pushing against the imaginary brake so many right seat drivers subconsciously use. Then, finally, we were out.

Utah gave way to Arizona and then Nevada. The highway settled down to a flat ribbon with desert wasteland on either side. Though Helaine was happy to be on a low straight surface, this was the most boring part of our drive.

We approached Las Vegas from the Downtown side, passed the Stratosphere Tower and got off at Spring Mountain.

We are here and ready to start this very different part of our adventure.

There is one problem. Our room buzzes! I’ve already sent for an engineer, but so far, no help has arrived and the buzz continues.

Let the buffets begin!

We’re Back From New York City

I like going to New York. The city is invigorating to me. When I was a kid, living in the bowels of Queens, going to ‘the city’ was a big deal. It was where sophistication was – and I was anything but sophisticated.

Helaine is less a New York lover than I am. On the other hand, she loves me. She agreed to go because I wanted to go.

Helaine, Clicky&#185 and I headed to Union Station in New Haven for the 11:57 AM train. Union Station is a moderately large, moderately grand, railroad station.

There are rows of large wooden benches in the waiting room. Over the past few

years someone has put large model trains, under plastic covers, on the tops of the benches. It was a great idea, but it ruins the look of this classic station.

Of the eight trains listed on the stations schedule board, three were delayed or cancelled. Is this any way to run a railroad?

Our train arrived at Grand Central Terminal ahead of schedule and we were on our way to Times Square.

The norm for a Fox Family trip to New York is to see a show, and the best deal is to go to TKTS in Duffy Square in the northern reaches of Times Square. TKTS sells Broadway show tickets for half price, plus a small surcharge. There are no credit cards accepted and no guarantee of any show being available.

Oh – you have to stand in the cold, in line, and wait. Temperatures yesterday never got out of the mid-30&#176s and there was a pretty stiff breeze.

We got in line around 2:00 PM. TKTS opens at 3:00 PM.

I had done some research, seeing which shows had been posted for sale in the previous week, and which shows we might enjoy. Trust me, some shows are bad. Even worse, some shows are weird. There are shows about nearly every aberrant behavior you can think of – and many you can’t!

Our goal was to see “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.” We had seen small snippets of it on the Tony Awards, and it looked funny. Here’s the original NY Times review.

After waiting a few minutes, it was entertainment time. A man brought a portable amplifier, karaoke soundtrack, and buckets for contributions and began to sing. Yikes! No wonder he can’t get a legit job.

He started with “New York, New York,” and it went downhill from there. Like the guy with the broom who sweeps up after the elephants, he is in show business.

Most times you can get your first choice for show tickets. This time we did.

For $47.50 + $3 service charge each, we got $95 seats for the show. Our seats we’re in Row C at the very oddly shaped “Circle in the Square Theater.” More on that later. It was just after 3:00 PM and the show wouldn’t begin until 8:00 PM. Five hours in New York to kill.

I suggested, and Helaine readily agreed (she really must love me) to go to the American Museum of Natural History on the Upper West Side. We popped into the subway, bought two Metrocards, asked the ticket agent for assistance, and found the correct station was a few blocks away.

I’m not sure how most out-of-towners take to the subway. I grew up riding them. I took a long subway ride to high school, every day for four years. It is the fastest, easiest mode of transportation in Manhattan. They’re just not very clean or friendly looking. The cars are filled with people from every corner of the planet.

We were at the museum in 15 minutes.

Our time at the museum was a little aimless. We got there late in the afternoon. Even on Fridays, the museum turns into a pumpkin at 5:30.

We walked around the new space wing – an impressive glass lined structure. We moved into the ‘old school’ sections of the museum.

At one point I needed the men’s room. I left Helaine and walked a series of hallways to get there. I made a turn and stared down the hall where the lunchrooms for school kids are located.

Good grief. It’s deja vu! I remembered being there, in this very same hallway, well over 40 years ago.

I like this museum. We needed more time, or more importantly, a real strategy for seeing things. We walked around aimlessly.

Some of what we saw was very impressive. Huge dinosaurs filled large halls. In other areas, animals from around-the-world were pictured in their native habitats.

Helaine asked if the animals in the dioramas were ‘real’ or re-creations. You know, sometimes you just don’t want to hear the answer!

I would assume these are the best of taxidermy. I’m also guessing the same antelopes have had vultures picking at them for decades. Some of these dioramas looked pretty old.

As the museum closed, we headed south. There was plenty of time, since we were meeting Steffie and her college roommate for dinner at the Stage Deli. We decided to walk.

The Museum of Natural History to the Stage Deli is around 1.5 miles, but it’s a flat, easy walk down Central Park West. CPW is a broad, two way street with the park on the east side. On the west side are mostly large, stately, very expensive co-op apartment buildings.

We walked past canopies leading to lobbies with multiple doormen. From time-to-time as we walked, a doorman would dart to the street to hail a cab or carry a bag.

We walked past the San Remo. It’s one of the few buildings on CPW I’ve been in. Years ago a friend worked for Barry Manilow, and I was in his apartment (without Barry). His view of Central Park was unreal.

We walked past the Dakota, the building where John Lennon lived, and outside of which he was killed.

We walked past one cross street, and as I looked down, it was covered in snow… and movie gear. A film shoot was in progress.

A few young women were talking to technicians, wondering about the arrival of someone – probably a movie star. Though the tech said he’d be there in a few hours, they said they’d stay.

We continued south to Columbus Circle. For years the circle was dominated by the horrific Edward Durrell Stone designed Huntington Hartford Art Gallery and the New York Coliseum. The Coliseum was actually uglier. With it’s astoundingly restrictive work rules it came to represent everything bad about doing business in New York City.

Now Columbus Circle is ruled by the Time Warner Center, a huge complex of condos, hotels and upscale shopping. We still had a few blocks to walk before getting to the Stage.

I fished my cellphone from my pocket and called Steffie, in the Village. She and the mystery roomie were heading to the subway to meet us for dinner. Luckily the Stage wasn’t all that crowded, as Helaine and I sat for a half hour waiting for their arrival.

I’ve written about the Stage before, but briefly, imagine Shaq sized sandwiches with bowls of matzo ball soup large enough to bathe in. On the table, a plate of very large, very sour pickles. Along with these oversized courses come checks the size of a small mortgage payment.

There was still some time before the curtain… and it was still very cold. Helaine sat down in the theater’s lobby while I headed back out to Times Square to take some more shots.

I took over 200 photos on this trip. It wasn’t particularly sunny and there wasn’t a whole lot I hadn’t photographed a dozen times before. I have a few good shots, but alas, nothing spectacular.

I made a few attempts at panoramas, firing off shot after shot as I slowly spun around at a location. So far I’ve looked at my panos for Times Square and the Museum of Natural History. Neither is a keeper. There’s still one from Grand Central to process.

It was dark out as I went to take these last Times Square shots. Obviously, the square itself is illuminated with miles of neon, but I wanted to capture the lower light foreground as well.

This kind of shot really calls out for a tripod. I have a little tabletop tripod in my bag… which was with Helaine. So, I waited for the light to go red, moved out into the crosswalk, and put the camera on the blacktop. In some shots I placed a tube of Chapstick under the lens to ‘lift’ the view.

Our show, “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” is presented in “Circle in the Square” on 50th Street. This theater is at least 30 years old, new for a Broadway house, and probably has been refurbished at least once in that time. The theater space is actually downstairs.

To get you into the theme of the show, the lobby is decorated as if it were a school. There are posters, mostly handmade, for the A/V Squad and school elections. I didn’t know it at the time, but everyone pictured seems to be in the show or with the show.

Some members of the audience were standing in line with forms. This show uses four members of the audience as spelling bee participants.

Within a few minutes, a coordinator was approaching me. Helaine had found him and ratted me out.

As it turns out, I wasn’t chosen. Helaine says I wasn’t dweeby enough and probably too tall. Wow! Those are two things that never apply to me.

“Circle in the Square” is a very unusual theater space. The stage juts out into the house with no offstage wings. The audience surrounds it on three sides.

It’s not a particularly large theater, and having the audience split into three makes it that much more intimate.

Helaine said she felt a little uncomfortable sitting sideways to the stage, as we did. I thought they were fine – and we certainly had great seats for half price.

Before I continue, if you’re reading this and have never been to Broadway to see a show – go. I’m not talking about a Broadway show touring your city with an all-Minnesotan cast.

There is nothing like live theater, especially when you are seeing the cream of the acting crop, as you are in New York City.

But, it’s more than the actors. The theaters, the staging, the lighting, the musicians – they are all very special to Broadway. There is no other experience quite like it.

Broadway has become very pricey. What used to be a New Yorker’s pursuit is now primarily there for tourists. You can get good seats to many shows for half price. I have never been disappointed when I’ve seen a show on tickets from TKTS.

Back to the show.

“The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” follows the action at the bee, but of course is more than that. Each of the participants (two of whom could easily be played by an unamed friend of mine) has a back story. There is a subtext in everything that’s going on.

The dialog is clever. The music is OK, though there’s no tune for me to hum or memorable moment in the score. The play is performed so close to the audience that every action is a ‘tight shot.’

It is an ensemble cast of mainly young people, trying to look even younger.

The four audience members are integrated into the spelling bee and one-by-one, they are stumped (though when the script calls for them to stay, they are given words like “cow” to spell) and sit down.

At our performance, one of the audience members was an excellent speller. She got a word right that was obviously there to stump her. On her next turn, she spelled an even more difficult word.

Without missing a beat, she was given another, even more difficult word… a word which began with an “x” and went on for four or five syllables! It was obvious this was her time to sit down.

When she finally walked toward her seat, she was given a huge ovation. Really, quite sweet.

We enjoyed the show. It runs 1:45 without an intermission. That left us plenty of time to catch the 10:22 PM train back to New Haven… except the show began almost 10 minutes late!

We dashed from the theater and began walking to Grand Central. My legs are longer than Helaine’s. Advantage Geoff.

We huffed and puffed to 6th Avenue, then through the Diamond District (all closed on a Friday night – shabbot). I was wearing my atomic watch, accurate to the millisecond, and kept yelling out the time remaining.

Finally, a few blocks from the terminal, I had had enough. A cab was at the light and we hopped in. He took off and we then managed to hit every light the few blocks to GCT.

Helaine’s shoe was coming off… or coming apart. I’m not sure. It just wasn’t going well. We were living the Sandy Dennis, Jack Lemmon life from the original “Out of Towners.”

Our train left from track 15 – about a thousand tracks in from the main entrance. We were tired and I was sweating (Helaine might have been glowing – not sure) but we made it on board.

The train was crowded. Helaine said it looked like there were more than a few Rangers fans, going home after their game. There were more than a few people drinking beer and some loud, though controlled, laughter and discussions.

We rolled through the quiet Connecticut shoreline, getting to New Haven at 1:11 AM.

That’s a lot to do in one day!

&#185 – Since I’ve taken nearly 16,000 photos with my Canon Digital Rebel, it has earned a name: “Clicky.” Helaine, Steffie and I refer to the camera by that name – we really do!

A380 Hype

The Airbus A380, the world’s largest passenger plane, took to the skies on its maiden flight Wednesday. It is an immense plane flying through a sea of hype.

Each time I’ve seen a TV package or read an article about this plane there was always the mention of its ability to fly with a gym or casino or shops or something other than 800 of your closest friends, all with their knees pressed firmly up against their chests.

It’s true. This plane can bring these incredible amenities to the sky. It won’t happen, but it’s true.

I remember American Airlines first transcontinental flight of a Boeing 747 in 1970. There, in the piano bar, was Frank Sinatra, Jr. entertaining. Hey, you can have a lounge in a 747!

MGM Grand Air flew jets with private compartments and movie star treatment between LAX and JFK. Here’s a page showing what they offered. It’s similar to the Airbus claims. Of course MGM Grand Air went out of business years ago..

When was the last time you hopped aboard a plane and found a lounge act or a private sitting room? Hell, when was the last time you hopped aboard and found food?

Any plane can be outfitted any way. There are 737s equipped for private transportation. The one pictured on the left looks pretty comfy. Wave some cash at Boeing or Airbus or any airplane manufacturer and the world is your oyster.

Unfortunately in the real world, air travel is a commodity. People shop by price and the price of flying in an airplane filled with anything other than seats is out of the question for most of us.

Last weekend at the wedding in Atlanta, I met people who traveled from Connecticut to Atlanta via Detroit! Delta has non-stops, but Northwest via DTW was a lot cheaper&#185. Price wins.

I’m not sure why Airbus has gone to such great lengths to tout a level of service few, if any, of us will ever see. Maybe it’s because they don’t want us talking about how long it will take to get on and off the A380 with 800 of your closest friends? Who wants to think about how much time it will take before 800 sets of baggage hit the carousel?

Air service is not returning to the suit and tie days of the 50s, 60s and 70s. This is going to end up a huge cattle car in the sky. Just pray it’s efficient enough to allow fares to stay as low as they are.

&#185 – I find it curious that Northwest can undercut Delta’s non-stop price considering the costs involved in flying extra miles, additional crew and aircraft time plus the expense of transferring passengers and their baggage.

100th Anniversary of the Subway

All kids like trains, I suppose. Kids from New York City like subways. That’s me.

New Yorkers have been taking subways for 100 years. Today is the actual anniversary of that first trip under Manhattan.

Growing up, I went to high school taking a bus and then one or two subway trains (depending on my rush and desire for a seat). It was a long ride.

The optional train was the Express – the “E” or “F” train. The required subway was the “GG.” It is now called the “G,” but it’s the same.

The “GG” is the only subway line in New York that doesn’t go through Manhattan. It started in Queens at Continental Avenue running parallel to the express track that went into Manhattan. At Queens Plaza it turned left, south toward Brooklyn.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the “GG,” which started in an affluent Queens neighborhood of tall apartment buildings, went through some of the toughest, most crime ridden, poverty stricken, neighborhoods in New York. Ignorance, for me, was bliss.

Sometime during my four years of high school, I made friends with a motorman on the “GG.” He’d open the cab door a bit and we’d talk as the train rolled on. He was an Irishman. I think his last name was Sheridan. He spoke with a thick Irish brogue. He was a union man in the TWU – Mike Quill’s union.

Even when I wasn’t on his train, I’d usually ride in the front car, my nose pressed up against the glass, looking at the tunnel and tracks.

The “GG” has an interesting ride. Though we took the same route as the express trains, for a few stops they disappeared. I’m not sure if they took a more direct route or were over or under us. They just weren’t there, where you expected them.

There was one spot that looked like it had been planned as a spur. The tunnel opened to the right side, though no tracks were laid.

In Brooklyn, at one stop, a third track appeared. The station had two platforms with the “GG” on the outside tracks and a phantom track in the middle. If it was used for anything, I never saw it.

The “GG” had old cars. In the late 60s, as stainless cars started appearing on other lines, the “GG” kept rolling with equipment from the 30s and 40s. The seats were padded beneath a wicker material or some red rubbery replacement. That was probably the last time New Yorkers were trusted with padded seats that could be ripped apart and vandalized. The cars were lit with incandescent bulbs that blinked every once in a while, as the train made and lost contact with the third rail.

To cut down on theft, the subway’s bulbs screwed in the opposite direction of the bulbs you use at home. Pretty clever.

I knew these trains well – their ins and outs. If there was someone you didn’t like, all you needed to do was take the ‘arm strap’ above and push it back until it would go no further. A black shower of very fine metal would come down, staining whatever was under it.

I always wanted to ‘drive’ a subway. I know that’s the wrong term. It’s still what I wanted to do. Even today, if given the opportunity, I’d take the controls.

When our family goes to New York. We often take the subway to go from place-to-place. My family thinks of it as necessary transportation. I think they know in the back of their mind, it’s still a fun ride for me.

Blogger’s note: Photos accompanying web entries should reflect the actual content. In this case, they are random subway shots I’ve taken. I wasn’t clever enough to anticipate my blog and shoot the “GG” in 1967. Photography in the subway is now prohibited. This is a real shame. I loved taking available light shots while underground.

Phantom Lightning

As the power failure/blackout story progresses, the Canadian power authority has begun to blame a lightning strike in Northern New York State.

This would be a subject I have some expertise in. So, take my word. There was no lightning strike in Upstate New York this afternoon that might have set off the blackout. Period. End of story.

Continue reading “Phantom Lightning”