Microblog

Deicing fluid battered the fuselage at MSP, en route to Palm Springs.

In Minneapolis I lay on the couch, grouchy, nursing a cold, periodically flushing out radiation. From Palm Springs Dwight remotely watered our apartment garden. The plants look good to me, but doubtless he’ll see issues when we both return to Minneapolis at the end of the month.

Nibbled cookies a friend brought over, drank vast quantities of water (doctor’s orders) and looked out at falling snow.

Got the first of four radioactive infusions. For a few days there’s no kissing or flying, which is easy, as I’m in Minneapolis and Dwight’s in Palm Springs. When I do return to Palm Springs, I may set off an airport radiation detector, which could be interesting.

Posted My Atomic Superpower.

On my walk, looked around a hotel populated by conventioneers who may never leave the property except to fly home. I can enjoy a night or two in a place like this, but it’s poor value: I don’t sit by pools or play golf or want to overhear business jargon.

On my walk, two women asked me to point them towards celebrity homes. I waved towards Marilyn Monroe’s (shown here) and Liberace’s, then helped them install an app that gives map and verbal directions to a bunch of homes. They continued their walk, now with purpose, squealing with delight.

On my urban walk: refueled at a donut shop where I had a nice chat with the person ahead of me in line while her order for seven dozen assorted donuts was being fulfilled one-at-a-time; guilted by Girl Scouts to buy cookies; filled my large backpack at a supermarket.

Today’s walk took me: under “The Bridge of Thighs” connecting two halves of a nudist resort; later, a front yard the artist/homeowner filled with huge, garish, improbable sculptures made from found objects; next, a block away, Twin Palms, Frank Sinatra’s forever cool former home.

Hiked the South Lykken Trail. Up high, snow was sticking around; on the trail, temperatures were in the 60’s. For some reason, The Flintstones Theme became an earworm. The topography surely provided inspiration for Desert Modernism and the fictional town of Bedrock.

With rain set in, assigned duties and cleaned the apartment.

Celebrated new haircuts with a bar lunch. “Two IPAs,” I ordered. “Grapefruit IPA or straight IPA?” asked the server. “Straight,” I responded, which felt odd considering the venue.

This morning a friend sent me the address of a vacation house her family rented back when Modernism was modern. On my walk, poked my phone through the high hedges, potentially inviting a police presence. Learned it was built by a Hollywood actor who almost won an Oscar.

Hiked trails above Palm Springs. The weather is returning to seasonal normal, so we wore shorts and no jackets. The recent rains have temporarily greened up the desert.

Explored the palatial mid-century former Annenberg family home at Sunnylands, near Palm Springs. Today it’s a retreat for global leaders, focused on the Asia-Pacific region. Most US presidents from the past 50 years have attended international meetings here. (Indoor photography was forbidden.)

My morning walk took me past former homes of Cary Grant, Bob Hope (photo shows service entrance), and Steve McQueen. I also walked into a Walgreens pharmacy hidden inside a clinic and a donut shop with almost no donuts.