
In reality, where nothing is heard.
I was out on the range last weekend visiting my friend Dan just this side of 29 Palms. Which is basically nowhere. Nearest neighbors, as well as asphalt roads, are measured in miles. I had to leave my car in town because he said I’d never make it without four wheel drive.
It was odd feeling so remote. Emotionally it happens everyday. But when you experience it physically you wonder if it will ever happen again. Especially in this day and age.
Dan owns the boutique in 29 P’s, Ranch and Camp, where I recently acquired new art. I’ve known him since the 70’s when he had Chicken Little’s Emporium on Polk Street. He was instrumental in getting Brian and me into that Halloween tribute book, Forbidden Fantasies.
He tells me the 29s is being bought up by LA hipsters and Europeans. It’s one of the best kept secrets in real estate. (And there I go blogging about it, dag-nab-it!)

We’re thinking of putting a few of my collectibles in his shop. It might work. Look at this picture of his Jayne Mansfield and my Grandmother’s Victorian side chair. His Zombie Movie Star art juxtaposed with my duck’s egg, faux croc velvet. How could it not?
29 Palms Weekend
***
The Last Temptation of Me
- Helping the More Fortunate
- Do They Know It’s Christmas?
- Ithaca!
- A Horse With No Name
- The Blackened Snapper Is To Die For
- Come Together
- Pilgrimage On The 75% Off Trail
- The Ancient Cohachellian Art of Cacti Arranging
- Popsicle Sheers
- Life Is Strife
- Life Is Strife: Addendum
- Casting My Net
- Where Seldom Is Heard
- Desert Sage
- Jackie’s Tears
- Cancer, and My Name Is Larry
- Me and Mr. B
- On Milkshakes
- Learning Curve
- Dunbar’s Last Stand
- Tale of Two Cows
- Barstow Barista Boys
- The Season of the Donald
- Visions of San Jacinto
- Hackneying Hockney
- On My Way to Ralphs
- Gaydom’s Gump
- Goodbye to All of That
- The Final Salvo
wonderful
…I want to go to there
SICK about yourPRADA collection…