Desert Sojourn

I sometimes think you have to be a shape-shifter, a time traveler and certainly imbued yourself with as adjustable attitude if you want to survive this pandemic in the desert. Many of the trappings of present-day Palm Springs are gone now, at least for this season. What’s left behind is a hint of the trappings of a desert community before money and status and the afternoon cocktail hour clouded the desert sands.

Life in the desert is different now. The pandemic has caused the regular winter tourist season to grind to an agonizingly slow crawl. Nothing is as it used to be. Normally each weekend is filled with carefully planned events, activities, and festivals that cater to a diverse audience of snow-birds, visitors, weekenders and topic-specific folks.

But not this season. Like Minnesota and most other states, California has restricted patronage in restaurants, clubs, gyms and other gathering spots.

The list of annual events that have been canceled, delayed or postponed until future notice is remarkable. These are hallmark events that have long been identified with Palm Springs and the entire Coachella Valley during the winter months.

Events like the Palm Springs International Film Festival, Modernism Week, Coachella, Stagecoach, the White and Diana (LGBTQ) Parties will not happen this year. Closer to home, large social gatherings like our own Indian Canyon Neighborhood parties have been canceled.

I tried to capture a sense of what it was like this summer back in Minnesota in the year of COVID-19. I started with ‘The Great Escape’ in describing our leaving Palm Springs for Minnesota as the pandemic was closing down most of California and starting to affect the rest of the country.

Then I shared my experiences ‘In the Year ofthe Pandemic’ to explain how Sharon and I were coping with the myriad of changes thrust upon us by common sense and government regulations. All of which morphed into a number of discovered alternatives to life as we used to know it. Like listening for the birds in a forest. More reading. More writing. More art projects. Now we’re trying to do the same thing here in the desert; searching for alternatives, substitutes and other options for a world turned upside down.

Instead of using our social membership at the Saguaro Hotel, Sharon is hosting friends in our pool for daily workouts. I have taken to walking the berm, biking and hiking mountain trails instead of the hotel machines.

Locally, most of the theaters are still shut down and offer no time frame for reopening. Therefore, I am concentrating on finishing up newest novel (my twelfth) and marketing it. I also have a number of plays that need to be tightened up, edited with a sharp-edged pencil and packaged for marketing (hopefully) next summer.

Neither Sharon nor I have been in a restaurant for the last nine months. Our dinner engagements are now strictly confined to parties of four, usually outdoors under a space heater and with proper social distancing. Instead of Sharon’s past parties for twenty, these intimate gatherings bring more security, calm and great conversation for all of us.

Strangely enough, I am sensing a permanent change of some of our routines with little to no residual sadness attached. Outdoor coffee salons  ‘Playdates’ blog certainly beat indoor coffee shops. Dinner with friends on the porch can equal or surpass restaurants, exercising outdoors can be just as rigorous as indoor gyms. The list goes on and on.

There are still some silly things from the past that I might miss a little:

Sneaking a peek

Brian and me and a couple of libations

Hiking mountain trails with Melanie

Spending time with the grandkids

There are a lot of the ‘old normal routines’ that I sorely miss and want to return to. But there are also a number of newly discovered alternatives that have become even more attractive.

Hopefully, I can go with the best of both categories and improve my day-to-day routine along the way.

South of Downtown

In the late fifties, an intrepid developer named Albert Frey approached the Agua Caliente band of Cahuilla Indians about the hundreds of acres they owned south of downtown Palm Springs. Since the mid-thirties, new neighborhoods and surrounding developments had always sprung up north or east of the downtown core. South of downtown was a barren wasteland of desert pockmarked with little else than scrub brush and roadrunners.

The Indians agreed to a one hundred year lease on the land (since renegotiated) and the area south of town began to blossom and grow. First came a championship golf course, then homes, each individually designed and built, around the links and finally condominium clusters in the land remaining. Canyon Country Club was born along with the Indian Canyon neighborhood.

In the last ten years, a new neighborhood organization was loosely organized around the idea of tying the disparate variety of homeowners into a more cohesive group of vested neighbors. The ICNO (Indian Canyon Neighborhood Organization) fall and spring neighborhood parties are the highlight of the season for most homeowners here.

Fall is the beginning of ‘High season’ in the desert. Snowbirds, seasonal visitors and other part-timers are returning to the desert. Traffic is getting congested on highway 111, the main artery through town. Some restaurants are no longer taking reservations because they don’t have to and the entertainment venues like casinos are billboarding top acts once again.

This November, ICNO hosted its annual get-acquainted party for our little community. It’s always hosted at someone’s house in the neighborhood and is great fodder for stealing decorating ideas, catching up on neighborhood gossip and renewing acquaintances with other seasonal players in town.

A lot of the folks in attendance are nearby neighbors. Some are active on the ICNO board as I used to be. Then there’s usually an eclectic assortment of newcomers rubbing shoulders with the old regulars who have been around since Frank Sinatra stalked the golf course with a martini and close friend under each arm.

The thing I appreciate most about these parties is the lack rarified air so typical of many West Coast gatherings. This isn’t a West Hollywood party where everyone is angling to hook up or a party in the canyons where movie deals are made around the swimming pool. It’s not like the gathering of those closed societies Down Valley in their cloistered gated communities. ICNO could be like that but never has been.

What sets these neighbors apart is an almost total lack of pretentiousness. These are accomplished folks who are comfortable in their own skin. Yet despite their financial success, they are charming, engaging and fun to talk to. Most have fascinating backgrounds and abundant stories to share. It’s like meeting other seasoned life travelers who just want to share their travel ad-ventures. No one is there to impress. In fact, the ones who try to impress soon find themselves odd man (or woman) out.

In many ways Palm Springs is still a small town little different than Apple Valley. While it’s true Palm Springs has as many Yoga studios as Apple Valley has daycare centers, there are enough similarities to see that both worlds run on parallel tracks.  On one level there are different cultures, tastes and lifestyles between the two cities. Yet on the other end of the spectrum, there are a lot of similarities.

The movie star Alan Ladd once had a hardware store in Palm Springs and used to make home deliveries. Bob Hope used to stroll down Main Street to get his ice cream downtown. Frank Sinatra and his rat pack hung out at Chi-Chi’s nightclub and burned the midnight oil at Canyon Country Club.

Canyon Country Club, the precursor to Indian Canyon, has a storied history. Over the years numerous movie stars and noted celebrities made their homes there. Now it’s a curious mixture of gay couples, retired folks from the coast, Canadians and east coast transplants who don’t like the Florida scene. They’ve all come to enjoy our golf courses, spectacular mountain scenery and the whole Palm Springs atmosphere. Indian Canyon carries on that tradition of open hospitality and egos left at the door. There is comfort level here among neighbors equal to that back in Apple Valley.

The ICNO party was a great success. We renewed old acquaintances, made some new friends and planned for a very active ‘season’ back in the valley. Sharon and I are very fortunate. We’ve have been able to straddle these two worlds and live comfortably in both…without losing sight of where we came from.

Shedding Skin

Things change. People change. And life goes on. Sometimes change is subtle, unnoticed and unexpected. Other times it’s a conscious move to improve or alter reality. Our reality called Palm Springs wasn’t bad at all. It just didn’t fit us any longer. I first noticed the change while on my knees going through piles of collected treasures that had lost their luster. Once I took that first step, other changes quickly began to tumble down like a row of dominos.

The first casualty of change was a boatload of Palm Springs Life magazines that went as far back as the 80s and 90s. They were a veritable treasure trove of the myth, folklore, fame and fabled history of this storied community. The magazines were collected when I was a much younger and more impressionable man. But I’ve grown fingertip calluses and traveled many more miles since that ancient family history. After years of collecting memorabilia from this fantasy place, it’s finally come time to begin purging those treasures in lieu of much needed art space and a different perspective for both Sharon and myself.

I’ve written before about the two Palm Springs that exist side by side. The first one is a familiar vacation spot that tourists and first time visitors alike have come to expect with its clear blue skies, warm winter temperatures and marvelous surrounding attractions. It’s a hip millennial gathering spot at night, has a welcoming attitude toward diverse audiences and is surrounded by marvelous mountains that reach up and kiss the clear blue skies. The old movie stars have long since passed but their cache still remains to this day.

Several years ago, Sharon and I began our transition from ‘that Palm Springs’ to one of our own making. Everything new had become old and routine had become comfortable. Then gradually comfortable became staid and that, in turn, demanded more exploring and self-examination. Change became a by-product of constant seeking and searching. I’m not sure if Palm Springs changed its façade as much as we just peeked behind its mask and found ourselves a new identity.

Our new Palm Springs provides us a much different outlook and attitude. We have new goals and objectives. It’s almost as if familiar and comfortable have become bad words in our new lexicon.

All the things about Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley that impresses first time visitors are now old hat to us. I don’t read the MLS listings the way I used to. I don’t follow current real estate trends and pricing. I care about my neighbors and our neighborhood but not the current state of city politics. I have a highly tuned-in BS detector. I’m not impressed with Bentleys or billionaires, celebrities or L.A. wannabes anymore. The cars driven and homes occupied matter less than the substance of the conversations offered and insights shared. The bloom is off the rose and although I love this place it’s sometimes hip trendy attire doesn’t do it for me anymore. I’d like to believe I can see so much clearer now.

It was this new Palm Springs that gave birth to ‘Love in the A Shau,’  ‘Debris; the trilogy’ and a plethora of new plays. It has meant more involvement in local arts as well as new mountain trails to explore. There are new venues for writing gigs and fellow writers to share the wordsmith’s journey.

Sharon has found a new spot to share her paintings with fellow artists. She has also taken over our kitchen nook and half the garage as her studio space.  Together she and I are on a pilgrimage to discover artist’s haunts throughout the Valley.

Palm Springs and the entire Coachella Valley is a wonderful environment for creativity and the arts. All manners of creative expression find their identity here. Both Sharon and I are fortunate to have found such a welcoming environment for our respective work. The Palm Springs Writers Guild continues to be a safe haven as does exploring the Valley and High Desert for theatrical venues for my plays.

Mountain trails beckon and bike trips abound to explore backcountry haunts all winter long. My office is occupied six days a week. Sharon’s studio is more like seven days a week. We’re shedding our skin of past identities and growing new experiences day by day.

Two communities, two life styles, one shared vision quests in the arts. We are two very lucky people.

Paradise in Wrinkles and Cream

The ‘season’ has begun in Palm Springs. For roughly six months out of the year, snowbirds and tourists and a plethora of visitors gather to celebrate the warm desert climate, wonderful mountain vistas and a myriad of outdoor activities. They bring with them their suntan lotion, wrinkle cream and youthful dreams of a hedonistic nature. 

The population in the Coachella Valley swells by two-thirds during ‘the season.’ Hotels start to fill up, especially on weekends and for special events. Restaurants start demanding reservations again. Last year, a couple of motels near us charged $650.00 per night for the Coachella Music Festival.

It means local theater comes back alive. The museums always have new exhibits and stimulating programs. Musical venues flourish and special events pepper each weekend.

Most of the newbees or returnees come to avoid the harsh Canadian winters or arctic blasts blowing off the frozen Midwestern tundra. Some come to play golf. Some come to sleep in. Some come to wrap themselves in a new persona. This is often the case around the holidays when your typical family arrives with kids in tow. Once off the tarmac, the grandparents have the kids and the couples begin to swing - figuratively speaking.

Caustic year-round natives call it the “Palm Springs state of mind.” It’s a throw back to that Hollywood fantasy era where the hard liquor cocktail hour began at 4:00, women were treated like second class objects, everyone smoked and most wanted to emulate a hedonistic lifestyle-if only in their minds. In reality, it was a carefully crafted facade churned out by Hollywood tabloids for the gullible masses of tourists.

Palm Springs 1945

 Middle-age men seem particularly susceptible to this affliction. You see them in the hotel bars and on the golf course, acting as if this was their new lifestyle…forget the wife and kids at home. Vegas has little on this place for creating the tempting setting for such foolish behavior.

 

The irony, of course, is that old Palm Springs died a long time ago. It began its slow agonizing slide to complacency back in the late 60’s when the wise city fathers didn’t want any more development. Their actions or inactions pushed new developments down valley to the gated communities of Rancho Mirage and Palm Desert. It continued with the city’s outdated fashion mall and desperate clinging to old ideas and fading memories of its self-imposed glorious past.

Sonny Bono stopped the slide back in the 1970s and other mayors have since sought to define and then redefine what Palm Springs is supposed to be all about. There seem to be two schools of thought here. Both parties are sincere and fervent in their zeal. 

Palm Springs 1938

Palm Springs 1948

The old guard, which consists mainly of old time residents, wants to keep Palm Springs a little village the way they imagined it was back in the 1950’s. They don’t want new development coming in and changing what they perceive to be the small town feel of Palm Springs. 

But new development elsewhere has put enormous pressure on the city fathers to find a place, a brand and an image for Palm Springs that fits today’s modern standards for urban growth.

Despite the wishes of the traditionalists (old guard), Palm Springs is going through a metamorphosis of sorts. Despite the walk of the stars down Palm Canyon Drive and some of the other fading vestiges of old Hollywood, memories of that period in Hollywood history are fast fading among the younger crowds now flocking to the valley. 

Now there is a new approach among the local progressives of blending the best of old Palm Springs with the newest development trends. These folks feel that Palm Springs must adapt with the times if the city is going to grow and prosper.

                                                            Palm Springs Measure J Website

Measure J was the catalyst for just that growth. Measure J is a dedicated local revenue measure (tax) passed by voters in November 8th of 201. Its goal is to maintain local community services and revitalize downtown Palm Springs. It increased the local sales and use tax by 1%.  For all intents and purposes, Measure J seems to be justifying all of its hype. It has pumped new monies into the economy and shown clear concrete improvements around town.

And hype begets hype when it comes to building up a steady stream of favorable comments about the city and its environs. New restaurants and shops are opening. New hotels or refurbished ones are coming on line. Along with a strong post-recession rebound, there seems to be a definite movement in the right economic direction.

Interestingly enough, one of the first groups to rediscover the allure of Palm Springs were the post-hippies and bohemians of the New Age. West coast hipsters decided that Palm Springs suited their taste for art and design and open-mindedness. Having the Coachella Festival down the valley didn’t hurt the city’s image among the younger set either. Nor did the Palm Springs International Film Festival, Modernism Week, Stagecoach Music Festival, El Paseo, Indian Canyons, Sunnylands, the Aerial Tramway, over 48 sanctioned golf courses and a bazillion swimming pools.

As I mentioned in my blog Christmas Redux, these hipsters have taken a little different approach than my hippies of the sixties but their intent is still the same. 

Palm Springs is an open-minded town that pretty much lets everyone do their own thing. Even if it means acting silly on vacation and indulging in the more pleasurable things in life. But isn’t that what our short time on this earth should be about?

...Every once in a while.