So far I’ve managed to get almost nothing from Thursday’s list done this weekend. I’ve been busy, mind you. I just haven’t been busy doing any of the stuff I was supposed to be doing…

I’m working on it today. Really. I have a lots of nervous energy from a weekend without Mark around. Must channel it positively. I even skipped my Sunday breakfast today; I didn’t want to eat blue grits alone. That’s the first sign of a hominy problem, y’know…

Anyway, I’ll get started after I look at this again (link via Carroll). Great article…

I hate those weekends when I’m more tired at the end than I was at the beginning. And I’m not talking about the satisfied and contented sort of tired…

In about three and a half weeks, I’m off to the great Pacific Northwest with Mark. It will be almost five years to the week after my last trip up that way. That was a great trip, despite the fact that the Seattle portion was marred by the presence of a whiny and pouting ex-dalliance. This time will, I suspect, be much more pleasant, if for no other reason than the fact that I’ll be in Seattle with someone who actually WANTS to be there…

I’m positively giddy at the prospect of a whole week with Mark. And at the prospect of a whole week out of San Francisco. And at the fact that I’ve found one of those rare appropriate uses of the word “giddy”. My biggest fear is that, just like last time, I’ll return so obsessed with the idea of moving up there (and with spending unmetered time with Mark) that San Francisco will seem even more dismal than it does now…

Interesting reading for your evening…

I may post one or two election endorsements later tonight; I’m getting a little tired of Winona’s face below…

Avoided computer all night. Sat on butt, popped in new Chinatown DVD (finally) and watched it in its entirety. Wholeheartedly recommend this regimen to others as well…

I’m only going to offer the two election endorsements I feel particularly strongly about. I’m not a registered Republican (surprise!) and there’s not much point in my having an opinion on the primary. So:

• Proposition 42: Yes. Couldn’t be any simpler. The gasoline tax is the cornerstone of the federal and state transportation programs; these programs are the very reason for the existence of a gas tax. To suggest that voting “yes” would somehow eliminate flexibility in funding schools and healthcare is ridiculous; this money was never meant to be spent on schools and healthcare in the first place.
• Proposition 45: No. This may be one of the single most convoluted and cumbersome pieces of legislation I’ve ever read. Let’s see if I have this straight. Term limits are the law in California. But we can waive that in certain instances by presenting a petition with a certain number of signatures. In support of the incumbent. It doesn’t matter how you feel about term limits; this reads like nothing but a manual for disaster. Complete idiocy. I refused to sign the qualifying petition several months ago and I refuse to vote for it now.

I still declare, as I have for some years now, that there is no better meal available for less than ten bucks in San Francisco than a super carnitas burrito from Pancho Villa. There are probably damned few better meals available for more than ten bucks either…

Things I love today:

• Carnitas.
• Much easier parking in the Mission than there was a year or two back.
• The Osbournes.
• Him, a lot.

Things I hate today:

• Pollen.
• The Real World.
• The aftereffects of a super carnitas burrito from Pancho Villa.
• Moby. He’s just fucking creepy.

So it was a crappy day (imagine me teaching a sensitivity training session ferchrissakes), but it got better tonight. I received a review copy of what I now refer to as “my book”: the one above, where my photo was used on the cover. That was pretty cool. Looks like a pretty good book too; a little-known fact about yer humble host is that I was planning to specialize in Retail Location back when I was still planning to get an M.A. in Geography…

Then I had a quick phone conversation with Mark, which we don’t do very often, maybe due to my strange phone phobia. So it still feels all “special”. And now there’s this bluegrass special on KTEH. So the evening’s gotten much better…

I seem to be having one of those periods where I seem completely unable to answer simple email messages lately. Granted, I’m a little casual about it even at my best, but now my friends are even starting not to like me. And, as usual, there is precious little rhyme or reason to the messages which DO get a timely response…

So this is pretty much just a half-assed excuse to all the people I owe. I’m sorry. Please don’t feel slighted. I started tonight and I’m tentatively penciling in tomorrow night for a big catch up session…

Yeah, I know. You’ve heard it all before. Starting in about 1998…

So I took this quiz (watch out for lots of annoying pop-up windows) and my results had no bearing on reality (nor on any of my answers) and I’m not posting them. So there. Your mileage may vary…

Unrelated: anyone under the impression that Chicago is “the windy city” obviously was not waiting for a 12-Folsom on the Embaracdero this afternoon about 3:30…

In about 18 hours I’ll be in Los Banos, meeting Mark at the Wal-Mart (it’s central and well-lit, after all). This means that (a) the 12-day separation will be over, probably resulting in much mushiness and gushiness in my next journal entry, (b) we’ll be doing our first overnight road trip, meaning there may be really cool pictures and stories to follow, and (c) if I didn’t answer your email tonight, it’s probably not going to happen until Sunday or Monday…

Now it’s late and I’m going to bed knowing much more about the Gabors than I did an hour or so earlier…

OK. I saw another site promoting itself as “best internet website”. Now just what kind of website is there, as a general rule, other than an “internet website”?

I’m off to the money bank now, and then maybe to a food restuarant to get something to eat…

Wow…

Mark and I agreed to meet at the Wal-Mart in Los Banos on Friday night. I’d arrived a little early to find accommodations for the evening. And when I say “a little”, that’s exactly what I mean. It took me over three hours to drive that 115 or so miles, thanks to traffic jams everywhere on 101, and then again across the Pacheco Pass.

Maybe my fatigued state was the thing which made the Sunstar (Sunspot? Sunstroke?) Inn look relatively benign. Either way, it looked better than most of the other motels along Pacheco Boulevard. There’s no Motel 6 in Los Banos.

Anyway, I figured it would be OK for one night and it pretty much was, despite the fact that it had been remodeled about 1989 and was apparently last cleaned about the same time. Apparently missed in this renovation was a cool lampshade from the late 1960s, which we both craved and pondered stealing. The place had full cable, although the TV picture was disturbingly green. And there was heat. And a bed, which was an absolute requirement for Mark’s first round of motel sex ever.

We met at 7:30 and spent just long enough in the Wal-Mart to buy an extra pillow. Then we went back to the room and befouled the bedspread. It had been almost two weeks, after all. Squishy sex, shower, and time for dinner.

We drove around Los Banos looking for food and, upon realizing that nothing but Burger King seemed to be open, we ended up in Santa Nella. There, we found a Denny’s. A good Denny’s. Not one of those stupid Denny’s Diner nightmares, nor even one of the ones renovated in subtle and noring pastels. This was a semi-original, albeit with some new paint and chairs, and it even featured the cartoon-style logo.

It was good. And so was the, ummm, creative way we burned off our calories afterward.

Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep too well. I think it was the heater I’d been so excited about earlier in the evening. It made me stuffy and made my mouth feel like sandpaper. I was a little draggy all day. Didn’t affect our morning farewell to the Sunblock (Sundried?) Inn too much, though.

Breakfast at Jake’s Cafe, featuring four very large pancakes and one very small egg. I cheated on my cardiologist and had coffee. It didn’t kill me, and may have helped make our tour of downtown Los Banos more successful.

Los Banos is an interesting town, and there’s more going on there than there seems to be any reason for. Downtown is a nice stroll, although we seemed to be about the only people strolling it. Mark almost scored a pair of maroon Chucks and I drooled over a (closed) repair shop full of antique TVs and radios.

And we sort of wished we’d had breakfast at the lunch counter in the drugstore. Drugstores which smell like bacon are my favorites.

We decided to spend the rest of the weekend in Salinas.

We had two cars and there was no realistic way of orienting this trip other than driving both of them to Salinas. Once again, we decided to meet at a Wal-Mart, maybe because that’s where my road atlas came from, so I have every location in the country at my fingertips. So it was back across Pacheco Pass for me, through Gilroy, and south on 101. We both made good time, and we were both happy to be in a nice, clean, relatively pleasant-smelling Motel 6.

The room required initiation, so we took care of that before doing further exploring. First time for either of us in both Merced and Monterey counties. There were other firsts too.

Afterward, we made the drive to Castroville for dinner at Norma’s Giant Artichoke, home of deep-fried artichoke hearts. To say that Norma piles on the food would be a severe understatement. The gastric revenge started in the gift shop (where Mark bought me a way cool miniature shopping cart) and didn’t completely let up until Sunday morning. But there will be no further details. And, lest this sound like a bad review, the food was great. There was just way too much of it.

After dinner, we hit Castroville for a few minutes, including a stop where we acted on out mutual passion for older Mexican supermarkets. Then I took Mark on the Salinas neon tour.

Salinas is an interesting town for fans of neon and old commercial architecture. One section of South Main Street features an amazing bowling alley (with full functioning neon), a former Lucky supermarket, and assorted other oddities.

Downtown and North Main are worth drive-throughs as well.

We also managed to scope out our likely breakfast establishment.

We concluded the neon tour with a somewhat vintage Safeway on Alisal, which I’d photgraphed before in the daytime. I was a little disappointed to see the sign neither illuminated nor spinning, but it was still impressive.

We picked up beer and other necessities at the Safeway and headed back to out Motel 6. We managed to get the heat working after about a half hour or so. And then we settled in and curled up for “Saturday Night Live” and other entertainments. For added flavor, we listened to out next door neighbors having very loud sex. That was fun. We vowed to annoy them by even noisier on Sunday morning.

I was close to comatose by this point from the food, from the previous night’s sleep deprivation, and from my first two beers in about six months. I slept hard.

Good sleep makes me happy. Waking up next to Mark on a rainy morning after good sleep made me very happy. We made noise, as planned, and heard even more disturbing noise from the neighbors. At one point, it sounded like they were trying to come through the adjoining room door.

When Mark was in the shower and I stepped outside for a cigarette, I was a little freaked out to see that one of the occupants of the room next door was a kid about 10 or 11. I chose not to think about whether he was a participant in the noisy sex or was just forced to watch and/or listen. His dad, or the adult with him at least, was a real redneck shitbag so I figured it could have gone either way.

After breakfast at the Armory Cafe, which we’d discovered the previous night, we strolled Main Street and the downtown area. Mark took pictures of lots of intact theatre buildings. I was fascinated by Hubert’s Shoes.

Then we ventured into the spiffy new National Steinbeck Center. It’s a great idea for a museum, and Steinbeck’s is some of the only fiction I actually read. Mark has even more of an obsession than I do. Unfortunately, it was one of that disturbing new breed of museum which seems to have a graphic designer as its curator rather than a historian. There were lots of gimmicks (too many of them child-intensive) and not nearly enough in the way of actual artifacts or information. The best part of the tour was a 13-minute documentary which wasn’t available for purchase in the gift shop, even though they had plenty of room for cookbooks which were unrelated to John Steinbeck in any way.

The afternoon concluded with a Watsonville drive-through. Interesting town, and a pretty lively one at that. There was some sort of immigrant protest going on, but we never figured out what it was about. Note to protesters: if your signs are illegible, it’s sort of hard to make your point.

At about 4;30, we both needed to get to our respective homes. I always hate this part of the weekend, and today was no exception. But it was a damned good weekend. And I think our weeklong trip to the Northwest next month will be a big success. I’ve found my travelling companion…

Stories of Los Banos, Salinas, Castroville, and Watsonville coming tomorrow, maybe. Also: stories of love, noisy neighbors, spiders, child abuse, neon signs, chorizo, Steinbeck, artichokes, and more…

Hmmm. Seems I like travelling with Mark just about as much as I like doing everything else with him. He’s passed every test so far, and this was a damned important one…

Exciting pictures and text about this weekend’s road trip to Los Banos and Salinas…

And since Mark, Shane, and Lauren all posted theirs, I’ll ‘fess up too. I’m equal parts e.e. cummings and Maya Angelou, which sort of works for me, I think, if I have to be a poet at all. I’ve also decided that this is just about enough of these things for a while…

Take the Which Poet are You? Quiz - brought to you out of boredom and pretention!

Sometimes you just find the coolest stuff when you’re looking for something else…

And it strikes me that there are currently way too many graphics and not nearly enough text on my front page right now. The balance usually swings in the other direction, so it’s probably OK, but it’s also something I need to work on…

But not tonight…

I finally got it. By that I mean this chest cold and flu-ish thing everyone I work with seems to have. And I want to thank them all personally for coming into work contageous. Really…

It came suddenly, over about three hours this morning. Since I’m not allowed to take anything for this, I’ll just sweat out the fever, the chills, the aches, and the cough which makes it all about ten times worse. I started by sleeping (sort of) for about four hours this afternoon. I may do so again tonight and tomorrow…

I’m not pleasant to be around when I’m this sick. Especially when there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it…

I pretty much haven’t gotten out of bed for two days., and I just about can’t remember the last time I felt this fucking miserable…

I won’t say that I feel great this morning, beacuse I surely don’t. But I think I may have arrived at the point where I can drive to the Safeway and get some decent food in the house. And maybe even sit upright long enough to answer some email…

Dammit, this is not how I wanted to spend my weekend. I should be curled up watching cartoons with Mark right now…

This is getting on my nerves. I feel like I’m sort of floating in a foam, not quite connecting properly with anything. Lest anyone worry, my problem is physical, not metaphysical, and I think it’s mostly result of the still slightly present death flu, combined with the fact that I haven’t really had a cigarette in five days…

And yes, I am using the fact that the idea of smoking makes me nauseous right now as an easy way to get through those first days of nicotine withdrawal, thanks. At least something good should come out of this whole thing…

But I sure do feel fuzzy-headed, even though I think I’m at least close to healthy again. I can’t quite concentrate on things. Sounds seem kind of muffled. And everything smells funny. I wouldn’t look for any exciting revelations or profound thoughts in this space for at least another day or two…

Yeah, as if…

It needs to be Friday and I need to be answering my door and seeing this face right now. An unplanned two-week separation is even worse than a planned one…

The Grapes of Wrath. I’ve seen it more than ten times. I have it on tape. But I’ll still sit through the damned thing every time it’s on TV…

Apologies for the lack of updates this week. I’m working on on it. Really…

Major US cities I’d most like to live in if family, climate, and economy were not factors:

• Chicago

• Baltimore
• Boston
• Seattle
• Portland
• Detroit
• Pittsburgh

Major US cities I’d probably consider living in given the right set of inducements:

• Los Angeles
• Minneapolis
• Atlanta
• Washington
• Richmond
• Denver
• Kansas City
• New York
• Philadelphia

Major US cities I can’t imagine ever wanting to live in:

• Phoenix (or anyplace in Arizona)
• Miami (or anyplace in Florida)
• San Diego
• Houston (or anyplace in Texas)
• Salt Lake City (or anyplace in Utah)
• Norfolk - Virginia Beach
• Albuquerque (or anyplace in New Mexico)
• Oklahoma City (or anyplace in Oklahoma)
• Nashville
• Las Vegas (or anyplace in Nevada)

Rest well, Dr. Scholl…

In response to a request for elaboration about yesterday’s list of cities I might like (or hate) to live in, I’ll offer the following bits of info on what I do or don’t like in a city. And if some of this sounds familiar, that’s because it is, but I don’t think the original essay is posted anymore…

I like cities with a distinct urban “feel’, but this is a subjective thing. Some people think “urban” means Times Square in New York or Union Square in SF, but I’m more inclined to give that designation to ares like the Outer Mission or Brooklyn. I like a little grit and a certain reality. I don’t do tourist traps nor malls…

I also like cities to have texture. By texture, I’m not referring to successive waves of gentrification which have turned interesting working class neighborhoods into cutesy little boutique zones. Texture refers to a mix of building ages and types. It means things like diners and hardware stores rather than shops selling nothing but ironic greeting cards…

I don’t like places which, like so much of the sunbelt, appear to be nothing but stucco and plastic, all of it seemingly erected last week. I’m not fond of “upscale” places, nor of large and visible “gay neighborhoods”. These places tend to be exceedingly boring and bland and superficial, and full of similarly boring and bland and superficial people I don’t want to share the sidewalk with…

I like places with enough of a literate and collegiate presence to support good bookstores and good, cheap restaurants, but without that annoying and overpowering “college town” syndrome. That’s also why I tend to like bigger cities; they can absorb a large university presence without being overwhelmed by it…

I like places where transit is a viable option, but not the only one. I’d like not to have to drive, but I’d also like to be able to do so when I feel like it. I like some density, but not so much that it makes completing the simplest task a nightmarish challenge…

I am completely unconcerned with being around a large “gay community”, nor do I care much about “cultural opportunities” like the opera, the ballet, etc. I judge a city based on its good and cheap restaurants rather than its four-star “fine dining” experiences. I want a five dollar meal, not a five dollar cup of coffee. And I’m more worried about having an easily-accessible Target or Wal-Mart than a Macy’s or a Bloomie’s…

And when I get bored with the city I’m in, I’d like there to be lots more within easy driving distance…

Hope that begins to clear it all up…

OK. I’ll play too. How well do you know me? (Quiz closed; link is to results.)

And if I were all of you, I’d be very careful about giving these people an email address…

I’ve been interviewed both live and via email over the years, and email interviews are always more taxing than I think they’re going to be. Maybe because I actually have to worry about spelling and punctuation…

Less than three days now until the great Pacific Northwest excursion. A whole week with Mark and none of it in San Francisco. Needless to say, I’m excited. I may not come back…

This trip is a pretty significant event for me. I always travel alone. Always. And the fact that I’ve found someone with whom I’m sufficiently comfortable to take a week-long road trip is a pretty major thing. There’s no telling what I might feel comfortable enough to do after this…

And on an unrelated note, all the last-minute programming changes at UPN and The WB are making my life a living hell lately. It would be nice to get through one entire week without having to make major changes to my station sites on 48 hours notice. Especially since I’m going on vacation and will be very annoyed by the prospect next week…

Last but not least, I’m about to go satellite and finally sever the last of my ties with the pond scum at AT&T. I imagine that will start yet another wave of telemarketing calls (this time from the cable division) which will invariably receive very rude responses. I think the last time they called me about long distance, I replied that I wouldn’t use their service again if the only other option were carrier pigeons…

Most asinine thing I’ve read in the newspaper this week: on the subject of Intel’s suit against a former employee who used its email system to send bulk messages to company employees, the perpetrator’s attorney stated that an appellate ruling against his client is wrong because it grants “recipients of e-mail messages the unprecedented power to censor Internet speech”.

Say what? I call significant bullshit on that one. In essence, this shyster is stating that my desire not to have my personal email system invaded by anyone who wishes to use it somehow stifles free speech. Could it get more ludicrous than this? Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it the party who’s had his personal space and property invaded the one who’s been wronged here?

It’s a pity that so few people (especially in Internet La La Land) have even the most basic clue what the concept of free speech entails. Free speech does not mean that individuals have the right to say whatever they please, whenever they please, using whatever medium they please. Nor does it mean that you or I, as individuals, nor that Intel, as a corporation, are under any obligation whatsoever to provide a forum for the free speech of others.

Understand that I am a staunch defender of free speech. I think it is perhaps the most important aspect of a democratic and free society. And, unlike so many other people who rant about the subject (my fellow liberals being big violators here), I also believe that the right to free speech even extends to people with whom I disagree. Yes, that means I believe that Fred Phelps has the same right to tell me I’m doomed to hell that I have to tell him he’s a flaming moron, as long as neither of us breaks the law, and as long as we both are able to create and operate our own forums for doing so.

However, I chafe at the notion that free speech somehow means that there are no limits. My understanding of free speech is that individuals can say what they like, as long as they provide their own forum (be it a soapbox, a website, or a zine) and as long as they understand that their exercise of free speech rights is also subject to repercussions from others who have the same rights.

A good example is web message boards. I have the right to create my own board and use it basically as I see fit. No one (except my service provider, whom I have the power to choose) has the right to tell me what I can and cannot say on my own message board or website. At the same time, I DO have the right to tell people what THEY may or may not say on MY board, just as I have that right in my living room or my place of business. And if the individual in question wants to continue saying his piece, he has every right to do so. On his OWN message board, or in his OWN living room or place of business. Or in front of City Hall, for all I care.

In other words, I have no right to shut him up, unless he violates the law and I choose to pursue it, but neither do I have the obligation to provide him with a forum. He can (and must) damned well do that himself.

Same with the guy who’s pissed off that Intel fired him. Of course he’s trespassing by sending mass-mailings using Intel’s email system. This is not even worthy of discussion. He’s using their property against their will. There’s nothing to prevent Mr. Hamidi from saying whatever he wants about Intel, as long as he does so using his own resources and not theirs.

Free speech is a two-way street. Proponents of all sides of an issue possess the right to it in equal measure. And both sides must be prepared to face repercussions ranging from heated arguments to libel suits. But one side does not have the right to steal from nor abuse the property of the other side in order to exercise its right to free speech. That’s not free speech at all. It’s larceny.

Congratulations to Shane on his first gallery show. If I were anywhere within a thousand or so miles of Kansas City, I’d go. Come to thingk of it, I think the last gallery show I went to may have been in Kansas City too…

But I am going to be leaving for Portland and Seattle tomorrow with Mark. It’s sort of snuck up on me in a way and i have an awful lot of stuff to do before leaving, from laundry, to bill-paying to house-cleaning, to maybe dinner at Tad’s tonight with Dan, Jamie, and Sarah…

What all that means is that this will probably be my last update for several days. And that most of the email in my inbox probably will not get answered until I get back. Why no, as a matter of fact, I’m NOT going to spend my vacation in front of a computer, thanks…

I was going to close out the test (quiz closed; link is to results) before departing, but I’ll leave it up for your amusement. Gotta go make some room reservations now. See you all in about nine days, probably with a big smile on my face…

It had been five years since my last trip to the Pacific Northwest, the land where I’d move in an instant if no external considerations were present. Last time I’d driven up on my own, stayed with friends in Portland, and met a friend from Minneapolis for the drive to Seattle and back home. Everything was great until I met up with said pouty friend and was frustrated by not getting to spend any significant time in Seattle.

This time around I was riding with Mark, who promised to be a much more entertaining travelling companion. I was looking forward to one of the best road trips ever, and I pretty much got it.

Mark showed up at my house about noon, having already driven three hours from Fresno. We packed up and got in the car, and after spending more than half an hour in traffic trying to leave this hellhole of a city, we were on the Golden Gate Bridge, headed for Eureka.

We took the scenic route, up US 101 through Santa Rosa, Ukiah, Willits, and any number of other small towns, most of which had numerous roadside stands specializing in carved bears and miscellaneous yard ornaments. There were motels and diners and all the things which make US highways more interesting than interstates.

We stopped in Ukiah for provisions and ice cream. It was really hot. Our ice cream melted. And at Myers Flat, we hit our first big milestone: Mark was, at that time, farther from home than he’d ever been. We took pictures to commemorate the event.

We also pissed in the woods, but that was more of a “back to nature” sort of thing…

We arrived in Eureka about 7:00 and checked into our reserved room at the Motel 6. Well, not exactly, as they’d lost my reservation. But we got a room anyway, and used it to stretch our muscles a bit. We felt much better afterward.

Eureka is a pleasant enough place, and the cool weather was a significant improvement over the heat in Ukiah. But it’s not quite as interesting as I’d somehow thought it might be. We toured the city by night, ate at a Mexican restuarant which was passable, if not authentic, and came home to bed, where I had a little trouble sleeping due to a bit of stiffness in the leg. We decided to make more stops to walk around on Sunday’s drive.

We had breakfast in the restaurant by the Motel 6 and were pretty much on our way without significant delay. We explored Eureka a bit, and we motored through Arcata and most of the rest of Northern California pretty quickly. Neither of us was particularly in the mood for hippie oceanographers on this Easter Sunday.

It was all very scenic. And I’m not saying that in a sarcastic way, even though I’m not really a nature freak. It was a good day for a drive.

And for a stop at the Trees of Mystery, where we visited the gift shop (if not the actual trees) and wondered at Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox, noting that the latter evidently has the largest set of testicles on the west coast.

So Crescent City was just plain ugly, and I usually have a pretty high tolerance for that sort of thing. Highlights included a very old, very unmodified Denny’s and a Kmart which was among the unlucky ranks of those soon to be closed. My Funyuns were extra cheap.

Just north of Crescent City, we left US 101 for US 199, headed northeast to Grant’s Pass. We made it to Oregon pretty quickly, and we’d arranged our gas consumption in such a way that we only had to fill up once in that strange state with no self-service gas.

I like Grant’s Pass. It’s small and sleepy (and way too Mormon), but it’s an interesting little town in a redneck sort of way. There’s a cute (but not really cutesy) downtown and one of every fast food restaurant imagineable. And tons of cheap motels, although we weren’t in the market this go-round. You have to love anyplace which offers a last call for decadence.

We did fairly serious driving after Grant’s Pass (OK, Mark did fairly serious driving) and didn’t make a big stop until that Taco Bell in Eugene, where we also got gas. By the time we arrived in Portland (OK, Tigard), we were a little punchy. We searched the streets near the Motel 6 for an open restaurant, found none, and bought a late supper at the Safeway across the street. Then we slept.