The true story of how it took 37 days for my doctors to fix my broken arm, and I HAVE insurance.
I broke my arm on August 17, and 37 days later, my medical provider and insurance company allowed me to have the operation that my arm required to begin healing.
This particular series is not about travel at all. It is about the incredibly terrible care that my medical group, Altamed provided to me during this time. This is frustrating, upsetting, and ultimately baffling as to how this mediocre level of care is even possible in a large city like Los Angeles that has 1000’s of doctors competing for business and patients.
I am aware that not everyone wants to see someone rant about bad healthcare. But this my blog and just like all my travel stories are about my trips, this series is about my health.
The true story of how it took 37 days for my doctors to fix my broken arm, and I HAVE insurance.
On August 17, I broke my left elbow at the radius head. A very bad break for which there is no way to set it. The video that follows is the first in a series of how my insurance company and medical group completely screwed up my care. Bad doctors, terrible customer service, and no one seeming to care if my arm got fixed or not – it all had to be done by a system of rules that seem to change everyday.
This blog is about trips – usually travel trips – well this is a trip into the horror of American health care. BEWARE!!! It is very scary!!
One of my grand plans before I left to drive across the country was to stop everyday to see something interesting, take a hike, or visit some place I haven’t been before – but after driving four days non-stop across the United States (of course only 300 miles a day) I was anxious to get to my final destination, Atlanta. So Days 5 and 6, I really didn’t stop, I just drove.
Abilene, Texas was a nice town. The night I arrived I wanted to get some something to eat in a nice restaurant and I found a nice place using Yelp. The bartender recommended a pub near the local college to check out, and I ended up in a few games of friendly pool with some locals who were very nice. Abilene is actually considered a very good place to visit and live – this link will tell you a lot about Abilene history and livability – https://livability.com/tx/abilene . But overall Abilene did not leave much of an impression on me. I was only there for a night and my apologies to anyone who reads this who is from Abilene but I just decided to move on down the road.
But as I was headed east on Interstate 20 I did come to an interesting little town called Cisco, TX. Cisco seems to be surrounded by a lot of trees which was different after 4 days of driving across desert and flatland. That was because of Lake Cisco, a man-made lake created in the 1920’s.
One of Cisco’s claims to fame is that Conrad Hilton, the founder of the Hilton Hotel chain bought and operated his first hotel in Cisco. The story goes that Hilton came to Cisco to buy a bank, but the bank cost too much, so he purchased the Mobley Hotel in 1919. The hotel is now a local museum and community center. The hotel had about 40 rooms and did a very brisk business right from the start as this occurred during the beginning of the Texas oil boom. It’s now on the National Historic Register, and right next to the community center is a little park called the Conrad Hilton Park with a small statue of him there.
The rest of the drive that day is kind of a blur as to what happened because the entire focus of the trip was now just trying to get out of Texas and across as much of Louisiana as I could make in my 300 mile radius. I spent the night in Greenwood, Louisiana.
One last comment about Texas before I move on. What is it in Texas with the super high transition ramps to other freeways? They’re in every city no matter how small or how large, and they just keep going higher and higher and higher. Other states have them as well but Texas seems to have a real proclivity for building these structures. As I drove across the country along the southern route, Texas by far had more of them than any other place I’ve ever seen. Fort Worth has so many freeways crossing and re-crossing each other that the confusion of roads and bridges and transition roads is called the “Mixmaster.”
Day 6 was just spent driving I-20 through Shreveport, Louisiana on to the Mississippi River. I crossed the river at Vicksburg, MS. This is the site of a huge battle during the Civil War between the North and the South. The North had been trying to take Vicksburg, a major port city for the Confederates on the Mississippi for months. Every time they were rebuffed by the Southern soldiers. Finally Lincoln placed a relatively unknown general in charge of the effort, U.S. Grant. Grant laid siege to the city for 45 days cutting off all food and water. The Southern command finally surrendered, and the victory turned Grant into a Northern national hero.
The Vicksburg National Military Park is here that you can drive through and see almost the entire battlefield. Even places where people currently live and own homes are included in the National Monument. It is really quite moving when you consider the sheer amount of death and destruction because the weapons of war had far outstripped the stratagems that were used to guide men into battle. Although the sheer amount of information about who was fighting at what position on the battlefield, and who did what, and who died here after a while becomes overwhelming.
Here I have a a comment about growing up in the South. I’m of a certain age when the people of the South still talked about the War of Northern Aggression. Every little boy that I know including myself grew up pretending to be a Confederate soldier fighting against the Yankee intruders. Thank God that is all changed to a large degree. I don’t think many little boys grow up anymore wanting to pretend fight the most deadly war that the United States has ever fought which was based on slavery, and that we fought against each other. What the southern states in the late 1800’s did to hang on to some integrity after losing the Civil War was to put memorial plaques up everywhere that something happened during the Civil War. And they’re literally thousands of them in every state. Starting at Louisiana and continuing on into Mississippi and Alabama and Georgia, thousands of Civil War historical markers everywhere covering everything from houses to where people slept, to where battles were fought, to where it seems like famous people took a crap. They are everywhere.
True family story – My mother used to like to read the markers and often complained to my father when he was driving that he would not stop and let her read them. So once on a trip to Mississippi after her constant complaining, my father began to stop at every maker and read them out loud in their entirety. After 10 miles of this history lesson, my mother gave in and never complained about reading the historical makers again.
Waking up the next day, I headed straight toward Atlanta through Birmingham on Interstate 20. As I drove further and further east that day my anxiety over why I was taking this trip and what I hoped to accomplish in Atlanta grew. Why had I driven 2400 miles to another city to prove what? To whom and why? Plus driving for 7 straight days with huge bridges, big trucks, crazy drivers, and the endless boredom of just looking at scenery pass by made me a nervous wreck the further I drove.
Yet I could also reflect on the amazing size of our country and the constant changes in scenery and climate. I started on the Pacific Ocean through the changing scenery of California, Arizona, New Mexico to the Flat Lands of Texas. Than in East Texas things start to change with trees, and the drive just gets Greener and Greener and Greener as the humidity soars, and plants and trees start to take over everywhere. I travel back to the South often but I am always amazed at how green it is and how many trees there are.
I finally got to Atlanta about three in the afternoon. I had chosen to stay for the first few days near my nephew Justin and his family who live in Woodstock , GA about 27 miles outside of downtown Atlanta. I had rented an Airbnb just a couple of miles from his home. Yet, in my exhausted and anxiety ridden state, I just could not handle driving on Atlanta’s infamous I- 285 Perimeter which is like a racecourse with too much traffic and huge trucks and Atlanta’s very aggressive drivers all doing 10 miles per hours over the speed limit. So I choose to take smaller state highways around to Woodstock, but that gave me the opportunity to understand how much Atlanta and the surrounding area had grown through the years. What had been open country and small towns was now malls, housing developments and apartment/condo complexes. Rows of them in all directions.
Arriving at my AirBnb, I unpacked my car and set up my temporary quarters. While worried, I was also very excited to see what the next two months would hold for me as I began my adventure in Atlanta. Performing and seeing what opportunities either in show business or real estate existed here, and the chance to really start to understand the city that I’ve passed through so many times during my life but have never stayed for more than a week at a time. After 7 long tiring days, The Grand Adventure was about to begin.
To say that Van Horn, TX is slow would be an understatement. In the little hamlet of 2000+ people there is truly not much to see or do IN Van Horn. There are a couple of interesting buildings but by and large the town would be considered very sleepy. But outside of Van Horn is another story.
Jeff Bezos, the richest man in the world, must think that Van Horn is a special place since he bought over 165,000 acres of land just outside of the small town to build his spaceport where flight tests of the New Shepard are carried out by Blue Origin, his private space company. The ranch is called the Corn Ranch, and it is very hush-hush. Yet, the financial boost that you would expect from all those engineers and science types does not appear to have helped Van Horn much. There are several closed down businesses that had put up Welcome Blue Origin banners up to welcome Bezos and company.
Bezos is also digging a hole on his ranch to place a 10000 year old clock/time capsule. Actually, it is more complex than that. Bezos is hollowing out a mountain on his ranch to place the clock inside. Installation has already begun on this project that the Amazon CEO has invested $42 million in, along with the hollowed-out mountain, with the goal of building a 500 foot mechanical clock that will run for 10 millennia. According to the website for Bezos’ 10,000-year clock, visitors will (in theory) be able to view the finished timepiece, although the site notes that it’ll be a rough trip. “The nearest airport is several hours away by car” and a rugged foot trail that rises almost 2,000 feet above the valley floor. Fortunately, if the clock runs for as long as it claims, you’ll have plenty of time to plan your trip.
Another interesting factoid of Van Horn is that it is the Western most incorporated town in the Central Time zone. Yet, the only other reason that I can think of to recommend stopping off in Van Horn until the spaceport is built is that it is the southern gateway to the Guadalupe Mountains National Park and Carlsbad Caverns.
The Guadalupe Mountains (Spanish: Sierra de Guadalupe) are a mountain range located in West Texas and southeastern New Mexico. The range includes the highest summit in Texas, Guadalupe Peak, 8,751 ft, and the “signature peak” of West Texas, El Capitan, both of which are located within Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
You drive north out of Van Horn on Texas Highway 54 for about 45 miles or about an hour until you hook up with US Highway 62 that will lead you up into the mountains toward Guadalupe National Park and further on to the Carlsbad Caverns tourist complex in New Mexico. Along the scenic drive you pass the 12800 acre Sierra Ranch.
After the American Civil War, this area was the site of some savage Indian War battles between the Mescalero Apaches and a cavalry unit known as the Buffalo Soldiers. A main travel passage for settlers, mail, and stage coaches came through the Guadalupe Pass and were often attacked by the Apache tribe. The cavalry unit was ordered to the area to stop Indian raids on settlements and mail stage routes. During the winter of 1869, Lt. H.B. Cushing led his troops into the Guadalupe Mountains and destroyed two Mescalero Apache camps. The Mescalero Apache were eventually driven out of the area and into US Indian reservations.
The national park is beautiful and has many hikes of all levels that lead to wondrous sights including one that leads to an original ranch house located next to a natural spring that was the site of a prolonged fight between a rancher who wanted the land and the Apache tribe. Eventually the rancher won and drove what remained of the tribe out of the area forever. The ranch is beautiful, but the history of it not so much.
After taking that long detour to the mountains, it was an hour back to Van Horn and Interstate 20 and east toward Abilene. Right as you drive into Van Horn on Texas 54 you see right in front of you the most interesting building in Van Horn, the El Capitan Hotel. The hotel is a 5-star hotel built in the 1930’s. In the 1973, the hotel was convert to a bank. In 2007, Lanna and Joe Duncan of Fort Davis purchased the building from the bank with the plan to convert it back into a hotel. They rebuilt almost everything including all new bathrooms with all new plumbing. The hotel is one of five identical hotels all built in the West Texas/Carlsbad area.
As you drive across the flat West Texas landscape you notice something that is constant and unending. The Wind! It is part of the nature and atmosphere of this environment. The constant blowing wind. And it makes you think why not wind turbines? This is the perfect place for them – however, this is Texas. The land of oil and natural gas. That is the business that drives much of America’s business engine and much of its political machine. As you approach Midland, it is obvious what part of the world you are in. Oil well after oil well, business after business that are connected to the oil business. The chances of a wind turbine out here are nil.
Yet, the wind is persistent and sustained. And as you get closer to Sweetwater you begin to understand that oil and gas maybe king but close behind is Wind Power. Huge wind turbines in all directions by the hundreds. Texas dominates the nation’s wind energy production, adding far more generating capacity than any other state last year and having more installed wind power capacity than all but five countries in the world, the U.S. Energy Department.
Texas has vaulted to the top of wind power by not only exploiting the strong winds of West Texas, but also by building the transmission to move the electricity from remote regions to state population areas. The state’s wind energy production, meanwhile, is only expected to increase and provide a growing share of the state’s electricity as advancing technology allows turbines to generate at lower wind speeds and improved weather forecasting makes it easier to integrate it into the grid. Currently, wind power is estimated to provide 17% of Texas growing power needs.
Texas added more than 2,300 megawatts of wind power last year, nearly three times the amount added by the next closest state, Oklahoma, which increased its wind generating capacity by about 850 megawatts. At the end of 2017, Texas had more than 10,000+ wind turbines producing over 22,000 megawatts of wind power, more than triple Oklahoma’s 7,500 megawatts of wind generating capacity, the second highest in the nation.
Yet, oil and gas is king in West Texas so even as Texas rises to the top of the wind power business, Texas politicians are trying to find ways to undercut the federal subsides for renewable energy which they claim are an unfair advantage. It makes one wonder why can you not have both?
After 33o miles of flat, flat road with the constant whisper of blowing wind in my ear, I pulled into a cheap motel in Abileen. A long tiring day but found out some very interesting about Texas that I did not know.
Woke up in Wilcox, AZ, the next morning to hit the road again. I wandered back into the small downtown area for breakfast at my new favorite Mexican place, Isabel’s South of the Border, and had their famous Shrimp Enchilades special. Excellent but extremely filling!!!
So to walk off the food, I wandered around the little hamlet for a while. Like a lot of small towns across America, Wilcox’s downtown was struggling. People moving away or just preferring the newer places on the edge of town, whatever the reason about half of DT Wilcox was closed up or for sale. Yet there were some really interesting jewels of history or culture, and innovative uses of older buildings.
Wilcox’s most famous citizen was a singing movie cowboy by the name of Rex Allen. Located in DT Wilcox is the Rex Allen Museum featuring memorabilia from his rodeo, radio, movies and television achievements. Across the street from the museum is a larger-than-life bronze statue of Rex, created by sculptor Buck McCain. Inside the statue is a molded bronze heart with arteries, symbolizing that Rex’s heart will always be in Wilcox. Rex’s horse, KoKo, is buried at the foot of the statue.
Rex Allen was an American film actor and singer, known as “the Arizona Cowboy” and as the narrator of many Disney nature and Western productions. For his contributions to the film industry, Allen received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1975. Beginning in 1950, Allen starred as himself in 19 films. One of the top-ten box office draws of the day, whose character was soon depicted in comic books, on screen Allen personified the clean cut, God-fearing American hero of the wild West who wore a white Stetson hat, loved his faithful horse Koko, and had a loyal buddy who shared his adventures. Allen passed in 1999.
Around the corner from the Rex Allen Musuem is the Chiricahua Regional Museum. A wonderful little museum -researched and staffed-entirely by volunteers which has tons of artifacts from rocks to art work, original Navajo/Chiricahua clothing ,medals and pictures. Only a few bucks donated gets you in and there is a volunteer on site to answer any questions. Place could use a dusting but very informative! Stop in if you have time.
The town has adapted the best it can to the changing times. Originally known as “Maley”, the town was founded in 1880 as a whistle stop on the Southern Pacific Railroad. It was renamed in 1889 in honor of a visiting General. In the early 20th century, Wilcox had the distinction of being a national leader in cattle production, but Interstate 10 has replaced the railroad as the major transportation link, and much of the economy is now tied to the highway, which runs immediately north of the town.
Chochise County where Wilcox sits has many historical sites within its boundaries since many of the last battles against the Apaches happened here. Many of the famous tales and stories of the Old West actually happened here. There are several sites to see and explore. You can use this link to find out more. https://www.explorecochise.com/
But needing to get on the road I had to cut my exploration short and get back on Interstate 10. Soon I crossed into New Mexico wishing I had more time to spend in this amazingly beautiful place. There is a story that when Georgia O’Keeffe arrived in New Mexico, she is supposed to have said that she wasn’t going to say too much about it, because people would get interested and she didn’t want them so interested that they came there. New Mexico’s natural and dramatic landscape plays out like a painting: vast skies with bright sunlight, and stark shadows leaving silhouettes on the desert’s wide expanse. To see some of the best drives in New Mexico follow this link. https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attractions-g28952-Activities-c47-t74-New_Mexico.html
Since I was driving and had no time to stop and had to stay on my own personal schedule, I really did not see much except what passed me on the highway, but two things did happen during my drive. I crossed the Continental Divide about 30 miles west of Deming, NM. There is a sign that marks this event on the side of the highway. On every other Interstate you drive thru the Rockies. This drive is so gentle you don’t even notice it. The elevation at this point is 4585 feet about sea level.
The second adventure happened about 50 miles west of Las Cruces. The whole front end of my car started to shake. So the answer – new tires – after I entered Las Cruces I found a place still open in the downtown area. It was going to take 2 hours and 500+ dollars. I had little to no tread on the tires left and I was out of alignment. Stuck in a new town for 2 hours with nothing to do, I asked the counter man where close by is there a place to eat or drink. He pointed across the street to Amador. I walked across the street and what a surprise. Amador is part of a 4 restaurant and bar complex with several bars, outdoor dining, a concert venue. It even has an outdoor courtyard with games and room for kids of all ages to run around and play in the afternoon sun. I met a couple from California who had moved to Las Cruces to escape Cali’s growing taxes and enjoy a slower but richer lifestyle. They had been there for about 3 years and were loving it. Great scenery, a pretty upscale lifestyle, lower taxes and a slower pace! What is not to like?!
It was late afternoon when I got back on the road, and I was determined to get through El Paso and on into Texas. No offense meant to anyone, but I do not like El Paso. I have driven through it 5 times during cross country trips and I find it a nightmare every time. I am sure that it is a lovely place, but I just want to get through it. If I could find a fast alternative to driving around it, I would take it.
I do remember one beautiful site as I drove east from El Paso into the deserted West Texas landscape. I stopped on a side road for a pit stop and the night was completely silent except for passing traffic. The night was black with no lights 30 miles east of El Paso, and you could see the stars and the hundreds of lights across the border into Mexico. It was a lovely and very peaceful moment after a very long day driving.
Finally, about 9 PM , I pulled off the highway at Van Horn and checked into a Motel 6. Dinner was at a 24 hours Subway in a Love’s Truck Stop. One of two places open in town at that time. As I drove down the main drag I was followed by the local sheriff probably hoping for a speeding ticket from a California tourist. No luck, I drove slower than the speed limit. There seemed to be a lot of interesting buildings in the small DT area, but I was too tired to explore. It was back to the motel and sleep.
There are three popular local bars in the Old Town section of Yuma, AZ. Places that I had visited on my first discovery of the town a few months before. Upon my return to the city of Yuma and checking into my cheap hotel (this was not the luxury tour across the country, this was the budget tour), I proceeded to have dinner and revisit all my favorite Yuma joints. In no certain order, Jimmie Dee’s, Red’s Bird Cage, and the Pint House Bar and Grill, all local and all great places to meet people and have a cocktail served by great bartenders. However, lets just say that I over did it and I was paying the price the next morning when I got up. So I was slow to get on the road and not expecting to get far that day.
I had made a plan to drive about 300 miles a day and take 6 to 7 days to drive across America. My hope for that day was just to make it to New Mexico before dark.
There are many things to see in Arizona. The Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert in the North, the lava fields(yes volcanoes) and many National Parks around Flagstaff, the red rocks and (former) spiritual atmosphere of Sedona (which is now thick with tourists and shopping malls), to the far West is the Sonoran Desert and the powerful Colorado River that marks much of Arizona western border with Nevada and California, Lake Havasu City and the original London Bridge imported from Great Britian, to the Southeast are the Superstition Mountains and the beautiful rolling grasslands that include famous Old West town Tombstone, Bisbee, and the Gila River. It is a beautiful state with a diverse geography of mountains, forests, rivers, canyons, and desert, plus it has a long and rich history centuries before it became part of the USA.
The fabled Apache and Navajo nations began arriving in Arizona in the 13th century, and somewhere between the 11th and 14th centuries, the Pueblo Indian culture built their mysterious prehistoric cliff dwellings across America’s southwest, many of which still exist today. It is not hard to imagine as you drive through this varied terrain the savage war that Native Americans fought with whites for control of this land. Savage on both sides as one race tried to hold on and the other desired more and more land. One modern and the other not primitive, but closer to the land and to nature. There are historical markers and sites everywhere you look in Arizona.
The Spanish arrived around the late 1530’s in search of the Seven Cities of Gold, Marcos de Niza, Franciscan friar from Spain, the first European to explore Arizona; soon after, Francisco Vásquez de Coronado followed in his quest for gold. The early settlements built here were for missionary purposes only. In 1775, the Spanish established Fort Tucson, in fact Tucson is one of the oldest cities in the United States of America.
So that morning as I drove across the Sonoran Desert towards Casa Grande to meet up with Interstate 10, I hoped to be able to take the time to drive down to Tombstone and see the sites there. I had been to Tombstone on my first around-the-country trip when I was 15, traveling in a bus full of hormonal teenagers from Georgia. I had faint memories of the town except for one really strong image that I wanted to see if it was still there as I remembered it.
By making great time on Interestates 8 and 10, I got to Tucson by early afternoon. Tucson seems like a beautiful city. The downtown business area seems gleaming almost especially near the university. Their freeway system is unlike any that I have seen in America before. Maybe because they had the room to expand in the city area, but the Interstate that goes right through the center of the city has wide frontage roads on either side that make entering and exiting the highway a breeze. Really well thought out.
About 100 miles east of Tucson is the turnoff toward Tombstone at the town of Benson. Traveling about 25 miles through some beautiful country you come to Tombstone. While the area around Tombstone is not as pretty as the drive down. The town was built on top the single largest silver discovery in Arizona. It became one of the last boomtowns in the American frontier. Within two years of its founding, although far distant from any other metropolitan area, Tombstone had a bowling alley, four churches, an ice house, a school, two banks, three newspapers, and an ice cream parlor, alongside 110 saloons, 14 gambling halls, and numerous dance halls and brothels. All of these businesses were situated on top of the silver mines. The people of Tombstone attended operas presented by visiting acting troupes or gambled and dealt with the prostitutes at the Bird Cage Theatre and brothel, and other places like it.
Most famous for the Gunfight at the OK Corral (subject of countless movies), Tombstone was a hotbed of crime and post-Civil War tension. The city was only 30 miles (48 km) from the U.S.–Mexico border and was an open market for cattle stolen from ranches in Sonora, Mexico, by a loosely organized band of outlaws known as The Cowboys. The Earp brothers—Wyatt, Virgil, Morgan as well as Doc Holliday, arrived in December 1879 and mid-1880. The Earps had immediate ongoing conflicts with the Cowboys. The Cowboys repeatedly threatened the Earps over many months until the conflict escalated into a shootout on October 26, 1881. The historic gunfight is often portrayed as occurring at the O.K. Corral, though it actually occurred a short distance away in an empty lot on Fremont Street.
In the mid-1880s, when the silver mines closed down, the city nearly became a ghost town. Many owners just locked up and walked away like the Birdcage Theatre. When new owners opened the doors which had been locked for nearly 40 years, the place was exactly like is was the day it had been closed. It is now considered one of the best examples of authentic Old West historic lifestyle and memorabilia. Tombstone today exists almost totally on tourism.
After spending a couple of hours walking around Tombstone and seeing the real historical Old West with my own eyes, I found my childhood memory. While the town seemed very different (40 years later) I had a very clear image of a large Rose Tree covering a house or blocking it view from the street. Right next to the old courthouse was this very tree still blocking the view of the house from the street. I asked the owner how old the tree was and he told me about 105 years old and it was still blooming.
Leaving Tombstone I drove about 20 miles to a beautiful little area known as Patagonia for a wonderful hike by the lake there. This area has a cool little town and the area as many really great hikes that I wish I could have stayed for but I needed to get back on the road.
It was dark when I got back to the 10 finally and I only made it to Wilcox, AZ., before I stopped for the night. No nightlife in Wilcox to speak of, but I had a really authentic Mexican meal in a delightful place called Isabel’s South of the Border right on the main street. Great food and service.
It has been a long time that I have written my column consistently. In January, I took over the artistic direction of a small theatre in Los Angeles and getting them on the right path plus directing 5 plays in 6 months has pretty much taken all my creative time. Not all my personal time, because one cannot live by theatre alone, but all my creative time has pretty much been taken up with running this theatre.
But I also do Fringe festivals around the world presenting my one man shows that I write and produce. And for summer 2018, I am doing PortFringe in Portland, Maine. Literally in the opposite corner of the country. I thought since my duties at the small theatre in LA (the SkyPilot Theatre) were winding down for the summer, this would be a good chance to return to my writing by documenting my Fringe experience at PortFringe, and then take a week-long tour around Maine, a place I have not been since my early acting years when I was based in New York City.
This will take the form of stories, photos and possibly daily diary entries.
Friday, June 15 – Los Angeles
It is 11:59 PM and I am sitting waiting for a United flight to Chicago that is now running thirty minutes hour late. Everyone by now has noticed that the airline business just seems to get worse and worse, and they seem to care less and less about customer service. I will eventually take off one hour late putting me in Chicago about 20 minutes after my connecting flight to Portland has left. Free water and pretzels for a 4-hour redeye to Chicago. No movies to even rent, but I did get free wifi!!
I walked off the plane in Chicago having no idea where I was supposed to go to find out about a new connecting flight and I was greeted by a United rep who handed me a ticket for the next flight to Portland at 8 AM. Cool and my luggage would be transferred as well. She promised!
I hate to fly and the only way that I can do it is to take Xannax with a vodka tonic. That chills me out enough that I can usually stand anything, but I can never sleep on the plane, so I always arrive in a zombie state. Got a lame airport breakfast and Bloody Mary and boarded the next flight. Arrived in Portland on a warm bright summer morning and took a taxi into town to the waterfront, where PortFringe had arranged for a couple (Laurie and Ross) to put me up in their condo next to the marina. The view from their deck is truly beautiful.
I dropped off my luggage and walked up to Fringe Central to check in and drop off some promotional material. As I wandered through Portland’s down town, I realized how little I knew of Maine and its history except for Steven King books. Portland was having Gay Pride that day and the town was live with people and colors of the rainbow. Beautiful buildings and a vibrant downtown. I had the feeling this was going to be an extremely fun festival.
Fringe Festivals are all alike and all different. What they have in common is the passion that one or more people have in presenting theatre pieces from all over the country and sometimes the world to their home audience. The difference is how they operate, and most are operated by well meaning and dedicated but underpaid staff plus passionate volunteers. The all have different rules and operating procedures that you as the artist just have to deal with because they are not going to change for you. The fact that you are getting to present your work in another city on the other side of country is an amazing thing in the first place.
You are self-produced and self-funded and if you make any money it is because people at the festival come out for your show, but there is no guarantee that will happen. Some festivals you can play for large houses and some you will play for crowds of 3 or 4. I have had both experiences. Sold out shows in Harare, Zimbabwe and played for 2 people at Hollywood Fringe one night. You just never know.
I went why do it? Because you have too. You have a need, a desire, and passion to tell a story and connect with an audience of perfect strangers.
After lunch, I went back to the luxurious condo – believe me the living conditions are never this nice – and took a nap. As I write this little report, I am sitting on my hosts’ deck watching the sun set over the river and marina. Lovely and relaxing and very nice after the hectic past months.
Meanwhile, my writing partner who is coming to join me has been sitting in the LA airport for 7 hours because of a delayed flight by United. They offered to pay for a hotel room and gave her (2) 10 dollar food voucher. In LAX you cannot buy anything for 10 dollars. Ouch!
Tonight I caught the new show by my road warrior friend Les Kurkendaal called While Walking Black in Moscow with fellow road dogs Nicole Cabe and Chris DeFilipp. Very funny show and descriptive about what it is like to be gay in Russia.
Home to bed about 1:30 AM – theatre life on the road again.
On a recent business trip to the Bay Area, I had the chance to spend part of the day in Monterey, California. I had not been to Monterey in about 18 years, and I was both astonished but not surprised by the changes along the world-famous street “Cannery Row.”
Cannery Row is most famous for the John Steinbeck book written about it in 1945, Cannery Row. The book is set during the Great Depression and tells the tale of the down and out fishermen and cannery workers on a street lined with sardine canneries. The actual row was known as Ocean View Avenue until it was named Cannery Row in 1946 in honor of Steinbeck’s book.
Yet, the story of Cannery Row started long before that with the arrival in the early 1850’s of Chinese sailing families into the area, and they began fishing in the rich waters of Monterey Bay. During the 1880’s, the Southern Pacific Railroad arrived in the area opening the rugged Monterey Peninsula to the world. By around 1902, the beginnings of what would be a massive fishing industry along the Monterey coast began with the first small canneries opening. In 1906, a huge fire destroyed much of the “Chinatown” area of Monterey ending their dominance among the local fishing workers, and they were soon replaced by Japanese and Filipino workers and other fishermen who also began to live around Ocean View Avenue.
From around 1916 to 1945, the Row became the “Sardine Capital of the World” as is supplied tons and tons of sardines for canning and for fertilizer. It only ended when they had totally over fished the Monterey Bay and surrounding areas of sardines. Then a slow sad decline began as the canneries closed leaving their huge metal skeletons empty along the coast. The buildings and small wood frame houses built among the canneries began to fill with painters and writers, bars and whore houses and bums.
During the 1950’s and 60’s, small family restaurants and eateries began to open along the Row making it more of a family atmosphere as tourism began to drift in due to Steinbeck’s book and the artist colony that now was established there. In 1984, the biggest change to the row since the end of the canneries came in the form of the world-famous Monterey Bay Aquarium with its aggressive educational outreach programs to the local school children in the area.
When I first visited the area in 1998, the Row had a strong tourist vibe going but the shops housed antiques stores, thrift shops, second hand stores, and vintage clothing stores. A couple of chain restaurants had opened along the Row, but it still seemed to be dominated by local family places. My then wife and I bought a beautiful 3-piece vase and bowl set made of cut blue glass that I still use today. The Row still maintained a semi-hippy vibe and charm that went well with the Monterey coast and weather.
Today the Row is a tourist haven filled with upscale eateries and bars, Starbucks, and t-shirt shops. Anchored by the Aquarium, the cannery buildings that are still there have been turned into small indoor malls featuring all types of shops selling tourist junk made somewhere else. All the vacant lots are being filled with condos and upscale hotels. It was a November weekday morning and the street was crowded, during the summer it must be a parking nightmare with bumper to bumper traffic. There are also several B&B’s in the area that are worth checking out for a nice stay along the Row.
The City has done a nice job of trying to keep some the history of the Row with a recreation trail right in the middle of the area featuring markers along the way describing the history of the area and some of the older buildings that are now historically preserved. The area is a little hilly but totally walk-able and is contained in a 7 by 3 block area along the coastline. There is a wonderful open-air plaza with good eateries and ocean views called Steinbeck Plaza featuring a huge statue with several of the significant people who helped turn the Row into a vibrant destination including John Steinbeck and the famous marine biologist, Ed Ricketts.
The Bay is also on the comeback. It was turned into the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary, and the protected area extends for 35 miles offshore. It is a perfect place to go on a kayak or stand up paddle board ride, or just to take a walk along McAbee or San Carlos beaches to experience the beautiful Monterey coast.
Cannery Row is certainly worth your time to see and visit. Along with Fisherman’s Wharf and the Monterey Marina and the Aquarium, there are tons of things to do and experience. It is certainly has the potential for a great romantic weekend getaway.
My only personal drawback is the memory of a great day in the 90’s wandering through antique and second-hand stores discovering treasures of the early 20th century. All of that is gone now. Sometimes I wish progress was not so destructive in turning quaint, off the beaten track, tourist friendly environments into themed mega-shopping malls filled with chain restaurants and t-shirt shops. There is a sense that part of California’s amazing history is slipping away, and no one seems to be noticing.
But do not pay attention to me, go experience beautiful Monterey and Cannery Row for a magical day filled with history and shopping fun for yourself.
Recently had dinner and drinks at the Hudson in West Hollywood, a casual eatery featuring American cuisine on the corner of Santa Monica and Crescent Heights at 1114 N Crescent Heights Blvd, West Hollywood, CA 90046-5007.
First, how is it possible for a restaurant to open anywhere in LA and not have parking? Literally, there is no parking for customers, and the eatery is located on the corner of residential and commercial streets in West Hollywood. How does that happen?
This a cool thing. They have actually built the restaurant around living trees. You can dine, have a drink, or talk to friend in a restaurant with a full grown, stuck in the real earth, peel the bark off tree next to your table. Very cool use of space and keeping nature around.
The space has a very woodsy vibe with a lot of exposed wood and ceiling beams yet maintains a very cozy feel with booths along the walls, and tons of tables in the middle of the room with a small but lively bar area in the back of the building.
When my friend and I got there, the place was pretty empty for dinner. Yet, the host, while not rude, also just zipped us to our table, placed the menus on the table and was gone before we even sat down. Our waitress was nice enough, but was not very personable. She kept rushing away from the table to do something else. I just had the sense that the staff was trying to turn the table as fast as possible. We both felt like we were being slightly rushed the entire meal.
We started by sharing an Argula and Avocado Salad with parmesan, lemon, and olive oil. Very tasty and fresh, it was a good start to the meal. For the main course, she ordered the Hudson Brown Rice dish and I got the Pan Roasted Chicken with a lemon chill sauce. Both dishes were fine and professional prepared, but were kind of bland and not very exciting.
I like to check the service sometimes by asking for items on the side. This time I asked for the chill sauce on the side instead of on the chicken. The waitress acknowledged this and wrote it down, yet when it came the sauce was already on the chicken. I asked for more sauce on the side, and this created a real stir among the staff. The server went to get the waitress, who came to the table, then a bus boy came, followed by the manager. All of them telling me that the extra sauce (which was not extra) would take time because it had to be made to order for each chicken dish. I was almost finished with the chicken when a small dollop of lemon chill sauce arrived on my table. It had taken them 20 minutes to make this little bit of sauce.
We paid the dinner bill, again feeling rushed. To stretch the evening out, we decided to get a cocktail in the bar. What a difference! The bartenders were very friendly, made great cocktails, and while they were busy they actually tried to carry on a conversation with you. The cocktails are handmade and really very good. I was introduced to “white whiskey” something I had never heard of before. The bartender explained to me that whiskey gets it color from the barrels it is aged in, so this whiskey had not been aged for very long and that process had not been done in wooden barrels.
By the time, we got to the bar it was hopping. It had a real West Hollywood neighborhood feel to it with a very mixed crowd both by age and lifestyle. This a bar that I would come back to again.
Overall, not a bad dinner, but nothing to write home about. Bland food, confusion on the order, rushed service offset by a wonderful bartender and great drinks. So a real tossup as to whether to return or not. If you look at their reviews online, it is also a mixed bag. Great food and wonderful times for some, and sloppy bad service for others.
Check it out yourself and let me know what you think.
The Hudson 1114 N Crescent Heights Blvd, West Hollywood, CA. Call for reservations (323) 654-6686.
I have just returned from an around-the-world trip – Europe, Middle East, India, through Japan back to Los Angeles. I took 1000’s of photos, visited ancient and modern cities, saw tons of castles, museums, and old ruins. Visited old friends, met new ones and saw people and places that I will always remember.
I also fancy myself a travel writer. I have a blog – tripswithjames.com. My readership is small but slowly growing. I have my website, a FB page, a Google page, and an Instagram page. I have tried to publish at least one article a week and on the recent trip I was up to two per week. I posted 100’s of photos on my sites and use an app called Hootsuite that can publish on up to 10 sites at the same time (to save time).
I try to take this new hobby seriously, so that it may one day turn into something real. Like a real business. That is why I was shocked when I went to start a new blog post a week ago, and had nothing to say????
While on my journeys I had posted 11 blogs about Iceland and parts of Germany. I had not even gotten to India yet (I could do 11 on India alone). Yet, on that morning as I sat at my desk and tried to write about Berlin (where I spent a week) – nothing. I did not even want to edit some photos and post those. Just blah!
Of course, I was back home and my “REAL” life was taking over again. My job as a college professor, my ownership of an Airbnb guest house, and editing my new short film as a film/theatre director slowly invaded the space that once was taken up with the next adventure and the next place to see and experience. Slowly, the journey was pushed out replaced by the need to have the dryer fixed, a new dishwasher delivered, and the carpeting in the apartment replaced with laminate flooring.
Yet blah?
Travel has been my increasingly important passion over the past 5 years. Something that I dream about and plan for and save for, so that I can see something I have not seen before and experience something that I have not done before. So why the writer’s block?
Then, I started to put pressure on myself for not writing. I would make plans to sit down and write, but always found a way to put it on the back burner. Always found an excuse or just plain forgot. What was going on? And the pressure built because if you are writing a blog – you have to be consistent to build an audience for your work. And I had made a promise to myself to be consistent. Yet, nothing. What was going on??
One night during an editing session on the new short film (called Fancy Meeting You Here) I mentioned this block to the writer/producer of the film. How I was so frustrated and stressed about not writing, and she said write about that.
What? Write about not writing? Why would anyone want to read that?
She told me that I am a creative person, and I am upset with not being creative. That I had just returned from a world tour for 6 weeks where my only responsibility was getting to an airport on time for my next flight. Other than that, I had no restrictions at all. I could do anything I wanted too. Now, my real life and all the things that entails was taking over and blocking out the journey and the ideas that it generated. The very jobs that make my current passion possible were getting in the way of that passion.
Further, she explained, is that I have a blog about travel but also all the things related to travel. Wasn’t it ironic that the very things that made the blog possible were keeping me from doing the blog. So write about that frustration.
Great, I get that I acknowledged, but who wants to read about a travel writer who cannot write. Who cares?
The problem was not unique to me, my friend pointed out. Everyone gets overwhelmed by daily life. The mortgage, the kids, the job, the car, the repairs, the in-laws, your boss. It all adds up to take us away from what is really important to us. You have to make an active attempt every day to focus on what is important to you, because no one else is going to make that space for you. Some days you get the time and other days you don’t, but you have to always try to find the space to create or whatever it is that is important to you. And that is what you should write about.
Then we went back to editing the film.
So that is what today’s blog is about. Finding the time to do what it is that you want to do. It won’t be there every day, but if you plan for it and make space for it, most days it will be. Daily life is going to happen regardless. Your responsibilities, your obligations and society all work to take over your moment to moment life. Your daily obligations can overwhelm you, and soon you may not realize that you have lost control of your own day to day existence.
It would be very easy to put off writing for a day that turned into a week, into a month, into three months, finally into six months I forget that I have a website at all. Me, myself, and I have to make the space, the time, and effort to get to do what I want to do. Some days I will have it and some days not, but I will not blame myself for not doing it – I will just make sure that I do it the next day. One day at a time – make the space to do what you love to do.
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