HIPPIES

Tonopah in the spring.


Here are a few more photos from my stay in Tonopah last weekend. I have to do this on the fly so will post more later, for the record. I realize that you are all wondering what's new in Tonopah, the town that is rotting in the sun, blowing away in the wind. I will tell you...

HIPPIES of Tonopah

The note in the window reads, "HIPPIE: I waited for 1 1/2 hrs to pick up my cigarettes. You can't make any money if your closed. Ken". Right. I bet Ken wanted to buy "cigarettes". Hippie never did show up but I pressed my camera to the glass and got photos of what's inside.










HIPPIES of Tonopah, town's newest boutique


01:51


I hope HIPPIES is open the next time we blow through town. I'd like to get a better peek inside plus I'd like to meet the guy but more likely he will already be out of business.

Life in the desert

Here are a few photos from my recent walk with a couple of shelter dogs. This next disheveled place was perhaps once a lean-to someone built for themselves. Sadly, they violated the first rule of home making. Even birds know it. I realize the details are not very clear but can you guess what the rule is? Here's a hint. That blue in the corner is not fallen pieces of sky.

Next, Capt. Jack and I came across this interesting skeleton, perhaps the remains of a coyote complete with what may well be it's dying crap. It seems there's a theme developing here but it's not my intention to gross you out. I simply want to share the walk with you.

Eva (aka Mama) enjoying a moment in the sun away from her puppies but she didn't want to leave them for long. I have developed a new appreciation for pit bulls and pit mixes since I started volunteering at the shelter. Mama is absolutely as sweet as they come.

Edible art

Recently I started volunteering at the local (no-kill) animal shelter and naturally I bring my camera along whenever I'm walking with one of the dogs. Last Friday Cookie and I explored this stripped down, shot up, long abandoned jalopy. It's full of nests, one where the engine used to be, two or three on the floor inside, a small one tucked away in the glove box, and big ones under both rear fenders. Cookie ate an old spine she found in one of the nests. Big treat.

Found sculpture

Found art

Another view.

Up close, where the nests are, were. I doubt
the jalopy is a safe place to raise one's young
since humans moved into the neighborhood.

The jalopy smiles.

Not a good getaway car.

Cookie finds a spine.

Edible art. Crunch time.

Bring on the clowns

Moon under Los Angeles

Okay. About that clown the other day. Perhaps, as Roy suggested, after spreading joy to the little people, he does go home to his wife, pour a cold one, kick off his supersize clown shoes, put his feet up, relax and fall asleep with a smile on his face while she or he massages his feet. And perhaps he makes the rent one smiley dollar a pop, like the nice shoeshine man Don mentioned, who supplements his income by posing for photographs. But whatever this clown does or is, it is not my concern. I need to think about what part I might have played in his rage. Two to tango and all that.

Bad, scary clown

So. I waved my camera in his direction in a hit or miss fashion without turning or slowing down and took a couple of shots. Why not? A stocky, bare-legged clown standing at the edge of the sidewalk wearing a jazzy mini-skirt and blouse, huge white mittens and a thick thick thick layer of white grease paint on his face and a fantastic wig made of beads. He doesn't want to be noticed? He yelled at me even though I was well out in the flow of people.

LA freeway clown mobile

I was going to joke about it but changed my mind. I first saw this guy when the three of us were walking up the sidewalk. Right away I knew something was up. Maybe it was the black lipstick. Maybe it was because, unlike most clowns I've seen, he was muscular and restless. He kind of freaked me out but I wanted a photo of him. He was interesting but I didn't take a picture then. Lately I've been practicing unframed, random shots and my timing was off but I was ready for him on the way back and got a couple of clicks before he yelled.

Santa Monica fish house in the rain

I was startled but turned and reached into my pocket for the dollar I'd put there to give to somebody if the occasion arose. When he saw that he really got angry and yelled something like, "I don't want your damn money. Keep it. You got what you want ... blah blah" and added some crap about my parents and what a terrible person I am or something. I don't remember. He was over the top. So I yelled back, "Fine. And you got what you want. A chance to be angry". That shut him up. And I enjoyed it but why, why, why do I engage? Still. Damn.

Armagosa Opera House, Death Valley Junction

I saw a station wagon on the freeway today with the word CLOWN written on the side in big, bold capital letters and repeated in smaller letters on the back. M. Lee said there was also a rainbow colored clown wig on the dash. I didn't catch that but it's probably good we're leaving tomorrow.

Aramagosa and Nevada state line

We did go back to Artesia for Dim Sum and another foot massage today and then explored the Chinese mall in Artesia. Kathy loved it. Said we could have been in China and not know the difference. We were the only non-Asians in sight.

Goldfield, Nevada

And finally, today we made it to the ocean. To a fish shack for dinner. Venice hardly counts as a beach. The place had good food (lots of yelps) but I didn't really like being there. They had two tanks filled with live lobsters. I cannot fathom selecting a living creature to be dropped in water and boiled to death. But I ate the fish. No difference, I guess. But boiled to death? Not a good way to die. We sat under the covered pavilion as rain beat on the plastic window coverings. It was intimate the way rain makes things. The weather was supposed to turn a lot earlier in the week so we had a sunny reprieve during our visit here but rain in LA means snow in the Sierra so tomorrow we will be taking a different route home.

The desert in winter - Nevada

M. Lee told me our alternate route will begin with David Lynch's road to the Inland Empire, aka Riverside/San Bernadino metropolitan area (approx. 40 m. east of LA) and from there we'll turn onto the Lost Highway (Hwy.127) through Death Valley. Works for me.

Sign near Yucca Mountain

Santa Monica Bad clowns Armagosa Opera House Death Valley Junction Goldfield Nevada

Christmas graveyard

Reno in December

Plonk and his girlfriend are cozied up by the pool this morning, she lounging in the tub and he nested in the grass next to her, cleaning his gray feathers and airing his under wings, making him look like a pigeon angel. Sorry, Internet. No Bird Park videos until the writer's strike is settled.

Casinos from Dreamer's Cafe

However, it being The Season, I will post this video I did yesterday. Christmas graveyard. If these trees could talk, what stories would they tell? Listen closely and you can catch moments of a woman and some old man crooning along with Bing. Reno Goodwill. Cheery as hell. Be prepared. It is the digital equivalent of a stale but very rummy rum soaked bit of fruit cake, the kind you might find at the bottom of an ornament box long after the fact.


Christmas graveyard

01:01

Further on down the road

Here are a few more photos from our recent camp trip. For awhile we were on the Extraterrestrial Highway and I insisted we stop at the Little A'le'in in Rachel, Nevada. It's pure alien kitsch and yes I'm a sucker. I bought a carnival grade Fischer space pen; you know the ones developed for astronauts so they could write in zero gravity. I've had two other better ones but what the heck? Good to keep by the bed. When a midnight inspiration strikes it won't stop working if you jot it down while laying on your back.



We had a long way to go before camp the first night but a few miles down the road we made another stop, this time so I could (again) photograph the world famous Black Mailbox (recently replaced by a bulletproof White Mailbox). Medlin has the distinction of living off of Groom Road which is the way into Groom Lake and Area 51. Lee tolerates my obsession and I his lack of, oh shall we say, enlightenment. Poor fellow. It's not his fault. He's never seen a UFO. Notice that Medlin included a collection slot with his new box. Smart. People from all over the world visit it.

Taken through the jeep's dirty windshield.

Lee wanted to hike in the next drainage over from
this very lazy wild fire but, chicken that I am, I refused.

Defunct apartment building in Caliente. Since I
was a kid I have been fascinated with abandoned buildings

and, when I discovered them, abandoned charcoal kilns.

View of all three kilns and an abandoned windmill
from inside an abandoned stone house.

I am also fascinated by prickly pears,

I think they are amazingly lovely,

petroglyphs in tuff,

and desert rigs.

Still life in the desert.