Work was pretty much just work. Not much had changed, save for a strange addition we were “gifted” by a patron.
The found a camel spider in their house.
Part spider, part scorpion, yet neither, it’s fast, aggressive, fearless, and has a jaw like the Predator. Go ahead, look it up. Meanest damned thing I’ve ever seen. It tried to attack me through its glass cage, and when the lady brought it in, it was pretty much dead. But it came back to life. And it was also very pregnant.
After giving birth to a gazillion eggs (none of them made it), it died as it lived: Angry.
Other outside adventures led to the Star Trek convention, which really wasn’t that exciting and it was massively overpriced for what it was, but I did go just to see William Shatner, Kate Mulgrew and Patrick Stewart talk:
I also did another audition in Los Angeles, and spent time at the Santa Monica Pier afterward:
Met Keith Robinson, founder of Intellivision during a bar-hopping trip at Insert Coin(s):
And went back to Valley of Fire for some hiking.
In getting ready to hike, I brought some of the usual hiking supplies, including a machete in case I got caught on branches or anything like that. The only problem was in that walking past a group of other hikers, the blade fell out right in front of them, and they stared at me like I was the next Jason Voorhees. Oops.
But the real fun of the month was driving over to Valle, Arizona to finally check out the Flintstones Bedrock Park.
I LOVE “Americana” and roadside kitsch. I may even have a weakness for it, to be honest. So when the opportunity to check out this $5 wonderland, I was all about it. Behold its glory:
This place is literally in the middle of nowhere. Outside of a giant Fred Flintstone sign, and a few stone-age cars and cartoon dinosaur bones in the parking lot, you have no idea that they have a fully realized (circa 1972) version of Bedrock past the turnstile.
To get into the true spirit of this glorious, cheesy wonderland, I decided to go barefoot, which I regretted instantly as there were a billion sticker burrs that got lodged in my feet, and some of the rides were clearly not as well maintained as they could have been , so I scraped my knees, but who the Hell cared? I was having way too much fun.
I even killed an hour or two at the Grand Canyon, and thankfully again, no dead bodies.
Arizona is also the closest state that houses Whataburger, one of my favorite burger places from Texas, so this epic journey took place just to find the damned thing, and I stocked up with more than enough food for the drive back, and lunch the next day.
I also found out that one of Michael Jackson’s home was actually pretty close by where I lived. It was a place called “Hacienda Palomino”. Seven bedrooms, Twelve bathrooms, a chapel, secret tunnels…. All for $12 million, or $15,000 a month, whatever speaks to your wallet more.
Upon discovering the house, it was around Michael’s birthday, so they had a big banner to celebrate the day:
But it’s a beautiful house. I’ve been trying forever to get to tour the place, but I figure that sheer tenacity will get me through those doors one day.
It seems to work everywhere else.