I slept in this morning, all the way to 6am. I am staying in the Laguna Hotel, right on the beach. It is a hotel that once catered to the upper middle class but is starting to show its age. The carpeting is fraying around the edges, the bathroom mirror casing and the sink have rusty spots (who actually uses metal anymore). The tile is the teeny octagonal ones that haven’t been installed in 50 years. There is one faded fake painting in the room. The elevator clangs and bangs as it heads uphill. I think the place still has upper middle pretensions, (some of the staff are haughty, with no reason). In other words, I think its great (Skip would have loved it) none of those modern ultra clean, sterile environments for me, ya sure you betcha (I’ve hung around many Norwegians in my life, even some from Norway but that’s another story). Just to prove their pretensions, I was able to negotiate a lower price for the room. Now where is their self respect?
I head out of Laguna thinking of Sue of course, we spent many wonderful hours on the beach at one of the coves. At the morning light I am always more sensitive and I feel desperate to reach out and touch her warmth and feel her loving touch. My spirit is nurtured by the growing seed within me but you can’t replace living presence. Even when they are away but alive you can feel them within you. I can only hope the seed will help to heal the terrible pain. I stop at Newport Beach, no false pretensions here. It is all Mercedes, BMW and Jags here, no fraying edges. I walk a block and a half and I pass three chi chi clothing stores, two fitness centers, two framing stores and three coffee shops. My conclusion: Newport Beachers like to get up, dress well, have coffee, work out and get to work having their art framed and then they drive down their enormous palm lined streets in their Beemers impressing each other as they go. Even the shop workers all seem to be blonde. With the coffee and blonde part, this could be Minne-so-tah. More later. Jon