Saw this in SoCal and could resist taking the photo. Huge paint spill directly out the driveway of the paint store. This was at least a 5 gallon bucket. It went down the street forever.
He sure ain’t no Picasso.
Stayed with some friends on the La Quinta golf course near Palm Springs, CA. Quite the beautiful irrigated section of the desert. All around this area is dry and arid, but irrigation can make any patch of sand lush for the PGA championships.
How many palm trees do you really need???
Views of the PGA golf courses.
Sliver moon that night.
More courses.
Well groomed.
What a concept, a lake in the middle of the desert.
While staying in Fullerton, CA for a few days, I spotted a couple of really cool cars.
Smooooooooth ride for a land yacht.
The meanest, baddest, toughest cop car in town. Mad Max of Thunder Cop.
Visited my friends Gary and Diane and we went to Balboa Island (Southern California – next to New Port Beach) for lunch. Here are a few shots of Balboa and the Fun Zone.
Balboa Island from the land side.
Boats.
Don’t forget to stop your engine.
Welcome to Balboa.
Mural on side of store.
The rich get richer.
Fun Zone.
Carousel.
Nice colors surrounding the warning sign.
Can’t wait to party on the Tiki.
More fun zone.
The flowers were out.
Visited Dana Point, CA while I was in SoCal. Does it get any more beautiful then this?
Dana Point Cove marine sanctuary.
Out to sea on a beautiful day.
Stumbled upon the Dana Point Marine Refuge nature walk that took me out on the bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Dana Point, CA.
Wild flowers in bloom with Catalina Island in the distance.
Looking south.
More wildflowers.
Towards Laguna Beach, CA.
Looking north to barely see Mt. Baldy over 100 miles away.
Dana Point Harbor.
Is this a car or what! I know it looks a little ratty, but my brother told me he sees this guy driving it around Orange County, CA. It has one of those Mexican jumping suspensions that appears to have failed on the left rear side. I was really impress by the rear window. Try replacing that if it gets broken.
Where’s Cheech & Chong when we need them?
Up in smoke baby!
Sign in the back of a car. Stop them before they steal again.
Who is that weirdo in the reflection?
My son Chris and I went to the Richard Nixon Presidential Library in Yorba Linda, CA. They had his historic helicopter on display from which he made his final public appearance. Of course I had to take the famous “V” for victory final wave just like Tricky Dick did. You decide if it is blasphemy, I hope it is.
Tricky making his final appearance.
This is not my final appearance.
Side shot.
Interior of the helicopter.
The Tricky Dick Presidential Library used to be a private foundation run by Republicans, Tricky lovers, and probably the John Birch Society. It is now run by the Federal Government kind of like a national park, and has a career manager running it who just happens to be a Democrat. There is internal strife between management and the old lady Tricky Dick lover docents. If you say something against Tricky during a tour, they will let you have it. This place has been around for about twenty years and has still to complete the Watergate section of the museum. You get how this is working. Here are some photos.
Web site logo.
Its sound so ominous.
Tricky’s seal.
Which one is from outerspace?
His first step towards lying.
Ike and Dick. Kind of says it all.
I don’t need you stinkin’ badges.
Let’s see, who was worse?
Tricky and the Nam.
It’s been almost twenty years waiting for this to open.
Tricky, it’s me calling.
Gardens. You can get married here. Frightening!
Bet you never thought I’d be hanging around with historical world leaders. If you did, you were wrong.
Winston Churchill and Charles De Gualle.
Leonid Brezhnev and Nikita Khrushchev
Do we really need a television show about a guy with a large schlong trying to make a living with it? Hollywood seems to think so. On my recent trip to SoCal, every bus bench in Hollywood was covered with the story of this guy’s wang. Let me know how this plays out in your town.
It’s a hard knock life.
Every bus bench covered with spank.
I always thought Howie Mandel was the biggest dick on television.
There’s got to be something wrong with this picture. I formerly lived in New Orleans – the birthplace of jazz and all hip music. Now I am in Anchorage, AK where most jazz is played on a whale bone. I have to go back to Fullerton, CA where I was raised to hear world-class jazz? It’s just not right!!!
So there I was checking out the new club scene in downtown Fullerton (twenty five new clubs with a lot of live music) and walked by Steamers where on the bill was Poncho Sanchez. There I was sucking it all in. Check out the video and you will see what I mean.
Poncho Sanchez
Poncho Sanchez
This pretty much says it all.
I could probably find Jesus in either of these places.
I have taught the history of rock and roll for many years and through those classes have watched Pat Boone as an entertainer in the early 1950s be one of the pivot points for the transition of popular music to rock and roll. My good college buddies Dave Diggs and Dave Siebels have worked with Pat for over thirty years. Many years ago I did some vocal arranging for a radio commercial Pat did for Nancy Reagan. On this past SoCal trip I got lucky and Pat was in the office when I went to have lunch with the Daves. He looked great for 75 and is still up and doing it. I also had to check out the memorabilia.
Ain’t that a shame, we’re gettin tutti frutti on each other.
Let’s see, who is the famous superstar?
Memorabilia.
Them beed the white bucks.
Here’s the photo to prove it.
When I was a kid I used to ride my bike over to Lakeman’s Market everyday after school and plop down my 15 cents for a 16 oz. RC cola and stand there drinking and reading the magazines. Those days are long gone. The demographics have changed in that section of Fullerton and the business is now a Mexican market. The old-style cold-water drink machine is gone and they are now selling items I have never seen before.
I’m not bitching. The world changes in fifty years. To the new store’s credit they have homemade tacos on the weekend – just like a corner Mexican food truck. They had it all, chorizo, beef, pork, tongue & head, and tripe – with all of the fixings. You can bet I ate there several times on the weekend. I got to practice my rusty poquito espanol.
Restaurant & butcher shop
This is where the real tacos are.
So Michael Phelps wins fifty gold medals in the Olympics and then gets caught sucking on the bong. So What! Well, Kellogg’s freaked out and pulled all of the boxes with his picture off the store shelves fearing that too many corn-flake-eating Republicans would drop a load of Cap’n Crunch in their trousers if they saw this pot-head on breakfast food. So they did a dirty trick and now only sell these flakes in Mexican markets where the shoppers don’t know who the hell Michael Phelps is anyway (since he doesn’t play soccer). So here was a shelf of pot flakes. I was trying to figure out how to get a carton of them back to Alaska. Certain things are legal up here and nobody gives a shit what you do. It’s the Last Frontier – remember?
They are best smoked with brown sugar.
Every time I go to SoCal I make a trip to Laguna Beach. It’s one of my favorite beach communities because of it’s beauty as well as the high level of art shops and galleries. I walked the streets and the main beach area as well as the Laguna Art and Sawdust Festivals. Great art and odd people make my day.
Too many rules here.
Main Beach
Only in Laguna Beach.
The bird man
I also made a pilgrimage to my old high school make-out spot in Laguna Beach. This is the cove I used to take my female accomplices. I hadn’t been there in many years and wanted to hear the sounds of the ocean on the rocks. Here is a video of the sounds of the ocean at Moss St.
Pacific Coast Hwy @ Moss St.
I have no idea who those girls are.
Been all over those rocks.
More cove.
Used to sit in that life guard chair at night.
As a kid I had a snapping turtle and piranha fish as pets. When I got a little older I needed to get rid of them. So I took them the local city lake and set them free. Years later I heard stories of many of the fish in the lake floating up to the surface with bite marks on them. I thought it was a cool coincidence and took credit for it from my piranhas. I forgot about the turtle until an article in the local paper was sent to me.
Legend of Monster of Laguna Lake Comes to Life Orange County Register 9/10/04 | BARBARA GIASONE
FULLERTON – Rumors swirled around Laguna Lake for 40 years that a vicious snapping turtle named “Old Bob” lurked beneath its water lilies. Turns out the talk was not some exaggerated fish tale. On Thursday, dredging company workers snared the 100-pound snapper near a park dam in the north-central part of the city. A Santa Monica contractor, hired to scoop out fish during a $2 million restoration of the 7-acre lake, netted the 50-year-old, 36-inch alligator snapping turtle along with catfish, crappie and bluegills.
I don’t know if it was mine – but it could’ve have been.
Old Bob. I miss my old snapper.
Laguna Lake all trimmed and clean.
Back in the day when it was a real lake.
I knew SoCal was getting more violent, but this photo proves it. When the motorcycle cops are packing AR-15’s on their bikes, you know there is trouble on the streets.
At least it’s a Honda.
Decisions, decisions, decisions. It’s between a nasty rock, a horrible rock, or a soft place. Let’s see….
Don’t make a mistake here of you could end up someplace you don’t want to ever be.
My brother is co-owner of a hyperbaric oxygen tank facility. While in SoCal I went for a dive to impregnate myself with high pressure O2 – just like Michael Jackson used to do. I think I will now get a nose job and try to change my race.
Dive, dive – ahooga, ahooga.
In the big chamber ready for the dive – just like Jacko.
Sleep Jacko – forever.
What has the world of jeans come to? I guess they’ll have to differentiate themselves by doing stupid outlandish things in hopes of getting attention. But you’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ve heard of pullin’ a train, but this is ridiculous.
I wonder if Joe speaks lesbetian?
I thought the license plates in Alaska were odd. But these two took the cake in SoCal.
Her ass is almost expired.
I didn’t know you could get a doctorate in bucko.
This is a photo from the past for anyone who was through SoCal in the 60s and 70s. This clud was the shit back then.
Tickle the memory banks.