The Museum

Took the giant Regal back the car rental place this morning and had lunch with my dad. In the afternoon, my mom and I went to the Greensboro Historical Museum to see and exhibit of photographs of Greensboro from the 1940s to the 1960s, which was great.


These are from the Martin and Miller collection at the Greensboro Museum:

I went through some more stuff my parents have been storing for about ten years for me (but not enough to be any help, alas) and we had dinner.


Then we went to Krispy Kreme…

Greensboro to San Diego

Departure day. Mom and Dad drove me to the Raleigh Airport via Burlington, where I had my last cafeteria meal and bought more ciagrettes. The goodbyes at the airport weren’t really tearful, but for some reason I started bawling the minute they left. It was over pretty quickly, but it was a little embarrassing.

I tried to call Stan again from the airport. This time, his phone had been disconnected. I started expecting the worst.

From Raleigh to Austin, I had a whole row to myself, which was pretty cool. Unfortunately, all the screaming babies got on in Austin, as did the freak I sat with. He was about half-crocked (and carrying a flask which got him fully-crocked), and he kept rapping to himself. Ever noticed how annoying rap is without the rhythm track?

Eugene was waiting at the airport. It took a while to get used to my crappy car again, after driving one where everything works properly. I was starving and we went back to the diner, where the cute waiter was still cute and was working our table this time. For his tip, I bent him over and fucked him in the men’s room. OK, I’m lying…

We pondered calling the cops about Stan, but I decided not to. Yet.

It was cold and foggy. I was happy…

San Diego to Thousand Oaks

We covered an awful lot of ground today, pretty much all of San Diego County (which is about the size of some New England states).


We started by eating breakfast (and watching cute butts in wetsuits) in Ocean Beach. The beach cities around San Diego look much more like beaches are supposed to than the ones in Northern California. And the boywatching is superb.


We drove north on old Highway 101 (which his been officially decomissioned south of LA) through La Jolla and Encintas and Carlsbad, and into Oceanside.

Loved Oceanside. I want to live there and eat only in diners from the 1950s, while having sex with skate rats every night. This probably isn’t going to happen. But I did get to stop at the tiki store…


We kept going, to Escondido and Ramona and Julian, and then back into San Diego via El Cajon and La Mesa. I got another tour down El Cajon Boulevard (always a wonderful thing) and probably my last cheap gas of the trip.

And then I departed for points north. I’d orginally planned to spend the night in either Long Beach or Van Nuys, but after annoying rain, annoyoung exits on the 405 which lacked cheap motels, and general crankiness, I ended up sleeping just south of Ventura in Thousand Oaks.

And damn, did I sleep…


A good night’s sleep is a wondrous thing. I didn’t have one, completely, but I had enough of one to make me feel better.


First stop after breakfast was the bustling Ventura-Ojai metroplex, home of one of California’s greatest concentrations of good trhrift stores. Didn’t buy a thing.

I hit Santa Barbara next. I really don’t like Santa Barbara; it’s a nauseatingly cutesy, semi-upscale sort of place. The first Motel 6 was in Santa Barbara, and it’s still there (I think) but rooms go for about 60 bucks now. But I drove through town all the same.

The rain started around Isla Vista. It pretty much didn’t stop for any long period of time until San Jose. There was rain through Psimo Beach, and San Luis Obispo, and Paso Robles (where I stopped at two uninspiring thrift stores and one really smelly convenience store).

There was a quick break around King City, which let me shoot three generations of Safeway stores there.

I think it was also right around King City that the thrill of the trip ended and I just wanted to be home. After cheap gas in Salinas, and the joys of San Jose and the Peninsula, I was. Upon walking in, I found my house torn apart by drywallers and a layer of white dust all over everything. So much for a shower and a relaxing weekend to cap the vacation…

All in all, it was a good trip, but it was way stressful. Never again will I take a long vacation with so much pending work. And on the next trip, I will worry less about who I see (which will probably result in seeing more people) and will shoot for quality time with each person and place I visit. Even at the expense of covering lots of real estate.

I’d also prefer never to travel in the south during pollen season again and to get more sleep, but this might not be so easy to arrange…

I miss my family and friends on the east coast. I miss good, cheap food, and the unpretentious people of the south. I miss trees and hills which aren’t brown, and the whole landscape back east.

I don’t, however, miss the weather and the pollen and the depressing nightlife and the less literate population. Nor do I miss Hardee’s…

Come to think of it, this whole trip was not one of my favorite vacations. Nothing quite worked out the way it was supposed to. Still, there were some good moments. I got to spend (not enough) time with my parents and with Duncan, Jeff, and Eugene, among others. I made first contact with Becky and PJ. I had sex in Atlanta, sucked face in Greensboro, ate well, and took lots of pictures.