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2001

Gone Visitin’

In less than 24 hours I will disappear for three weeks. I make no promises that there will be updates until I get back. I make no promises that I’ll be answering any email until I get back. On the other hand, I also make no promises that I WON’T be doing either of these things…

What I will definitely be doing is visiting Mom and Dad. And eating well. And visiting numerous supermarkets and thrift stores, and the occasional roadside diner. And hopefully seeing Duncan and Rick, PJ, Becky, and assorted other people without websites. Not to mention Stan and Eugene in San Diego, one of whom will have temporary custody of my car.

Apologies to anyone whose email remains unanswered as I depart. You can’t possibly imagine how much the past three weeks have sucked…

Note to cyber-stalkers: look for me in Greensboro, Charlotte, Raleigh, Chapel Hill, Atlanta, and maybe DC. I’ll be travelling US 29 rather than I-85, just because that’s what I do…

Note to potential thieves: the apartment is being watched. Please don’t throw any wild parties while I’m gone. Lock the doors. And turn off some of those lights, dammit…

SF to Fresno

 

The idea to do twin road trips on the east coast (North Carolina, South Carolina, and Virginia) and the west coast (ummm, California) started with the very practical issue of where to put my car while I flew back east for three weeks. I had the brilliant idea of visiting a couple of friends in San Diego, leaving my car with one of them, and then flying east from there. I figured I could have an extra road trip which would basically pay for itself in saved parking fees. Brilliant, yes?

I completed finishing touches on a few projects this morning (notably this one) and finally left the house about 3:00. Rush hour traffic was not bad, until I got to the grade between Castro Valley and San Ramon. The next fifteen miles of my trip took about an hour. I was (even more of) a ball of stress by the time I stopped for food and gas in Tracy.

When I finally arrived in Fresno and checked into the Motel 6, my first order of business was another phone call to my friend Stan in San Diego. As had happened for the past three days, I was unable to leave him a message because his voice mailbox was full. Which seemed a little odd. Stan and I have been friends for almost 20 years, and he knew I was coming this weekend. I’d been promising a visit for about five years.

Anyhow, I called Eugene next, to warn him I might be taking him up on his offer of lodging for me and the car. Then I went to Vons to get a snack, came back to the room, watched a movie, and went to sleep.

Fresno to San Diego

I woke up feeling really calm, as if I were jut dumping all my stress in Fresno. It was great. I had breakfast and hit a few thrift stores (two cool shirts), and then headed south on the highway formerly known as US 99 for Bakersfield, where I had lunch and didn’t do much else.

I wasn’t much in the mood for LA, so I took I-210 almost to Riverside and went south on I-15 through the surprisingly traffic-filled wilderness of the “Inland Empire”. The great thing about LA freeways is that, even when they’re choked with traffic, they very often still move at about 80 MPH.

I really didn’t stop much, as I was in a hurry. But one thing caught my eye. First I saw a sign reading “Champagne Boulevard”. At first, I figured it was a vineyard, but then I realized I was close to the Lawrence Welk Resort. It was just too perverse not to be seen, so I pulled in. I was amazed that (a) it was not as tacky and pink as I expected, (b) there were far more golf carts than actual old people driving them, and (c) the convenience store had Funyuns on sale.

 

I tried Stan again (no luck) and proceeded to Eugene’s house in San Diego. We had dinner at the Chicken Pie Shop (four courses for about four bucks), toured the wonderfully dowdy El Cajon Boulevard, sneered at the plastic gaydom of Hillcrest, and hit a few bars.

First was Pec’s, a great dive I’d found rather by accident on an earlier San Diego trip while looking for a cab. Turns out Eugene likes the place too; it has a lot less of the terminal preppy and circuit-type idiots so common elsewhere in the city. Then we hit the Hole, near Ocean Beach, with its tropical tiki patio and three customers. I liked it.

After a few minutes of the “Get Smart” marathon on TV Land, I settled in for a semi-insomniac night, the first of many to come.

San Diego to Greensboro

Groggy morning. Breakfast at a diner (whose name I forget) with a cute waitron (not working our table) who teetered between skatefag and ravefag. I probably would’ve done him.

Eugene dropped me at the airport very early so I could get a good seat in accoradance with Southwest Arilines “first come, first served” boarding policy. I was number 13. Ran into some friends from SF in the airport.

The flight was uneventful, and was much less crowded between Austin and Raleigh than it had been between San Diego and Austin. I arrived in scenic Raleigh about 10:00, tired, cranky, and wanting a cigarette. Mom and Dad were waiting, and very accommodatingly drove me to Waffle House on the way back to Greensboro. I slept like a rock and adjusted to the time change almost immediately.

Reidsville and Danville

Visited the relatives on my dad’s side in Reidsville, and also headed to Danville, for shopping and so Mom and Dad could play the lottery a little. There was pollen everywhere and I could feel a disaster coming. It was finally triggered by my uncle’s four cats, and I wouldn’t fully recover until my third day back in California.

Downtown

 

I drove around on my own some today, hitting downtown and UNCG. There were pictures to be taken and books to be bought downtown. And there was no cruising to be found on campus. Not that I was looking…

Later in the afternoon, my dad and I drove to Eden, looking for this tombstone from the 1930s which supposedly reads “murdered by the state of North Carolina”. We wandered several boneyards and never found it.

I found myself humming that stupid “I Like Calling North Carolina Home” song from the 1970s all day. It was a little disconcerting…

Gay Skate

Tonight was “gay skate” night at Skateland USA. Most of you might think that this sounds like my own personal idea of hell, but it wasn’t bad, really. I went because a friend (Ed from the now-departed Babylon) was the organizer and DJ. Plus I was meeting my old friend Jeff there. I stayed about an hour; there’s only so much you can do when you don’t roller skate and also don’t take well to having strangers ask you WHY you’re not skating.

For those of you who care, Skateland USA still looks (and smells) exactly the same as it did when I was last there in 1978. I think the same lady works the snack bar too…

Windows on the Family

My mom’s side of the family came over for dinner tonight, a total of about 22 guests. There were cousins and aunts and uncles and very much food. It was nice, actually, although I would liked to have talked about computers a little less. Seems I’m the family expert now, even on Windoze (which I don’t use, never will use, and apparently still know more about than many of its hapless victims).