Mountain Musings


Desert of Dreams


Thanksgiving always makes me feel romantic. For example, I was telling my wife at the dinner table last Thursday that whenever I see a turkey, I want a leg but, when I see her I just wanta’ neck.


I hope all of you had as wonderful a Turkey Day as we did, sequestered here at the stately Motley Manor, where good manners were abandoned on Turkey Day, while we slurped down sliced turkey breast, gravy-soaked dressing, marshmallow-encrusted yams and butter-soaked green beans, washing them down with sparkling pink Moscato. Decadent? You betcha! You ask, “Are you crazy?” Call me crazy, call me anything you want, just don’t call me late for Thanksgiving dinner.


With all the COVID-19 restrictions, including a recommendation against out-of-state travel, we abandoned our plans for our usual three-and-a-half-hour drive to Vegas, where we whiz past the “World’s Tallest Thermometer” in Baker, where we always stop for some Alien Beef Jerky. No need to do that anymore, now that Lake Arrowhead Village has its own Alien Beef Jerky kiosk.


Say, did I ever tell you about the time back in the 60s when I drove to Vegas in a VW microbus and then returned home in a beautiful $200,000… you guessed it… Greyhound bus.


“The fins of 60s Cadillacs lined up in a row, in a parking lot in Vegas, waiting to be towed. And the repo man is laughing, yeah, as the Greyhounds come and go. I’m apart at the seams, in this desert of dreams…” (“Desert Of Dreams – John Stewart – 1994)


Last year, on our return trip home, we were greeted by the mother of all snowstorms, a four-foot berm at the end of our driveway and no electricity. This year, there was only a lack of electricity.


“Ooh, Las Vegas, ain’t no place for a poor boy like me. Every time I hit your Crystal city, you know you’re gonna make a wreck out of me. (“Ooh Las Vegas – Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris – 1973)


While we were slurping dinner, we were treated to the annual barrage of TV commercials for senior advantage Medicare plans and endless car commercials. By the way, did you happen to see the new Subaru commercial that was filmed at our own (now abandoned) Lake Gregory Elementary School? Cool!


My vote for this season’s coolest TV commercial goes to Farmer Boys Restaurant, which portrays grandma, after conjuring up chicken sandwiches, being shot from a cannon, while grandpa says he will miss grandma’s sandwiches. Then granny goes whizzing past him in the background. Thank goodness the election campaign commercials are gone… until the next election.


My vote for the very worst TV commercials goes to Verizon for their squeaky, high-pitched actors whining about the company’s competitors. But the most irritating commercial of all is the one for Amazon with all the loud clapping… cringeworthy!


Keep it flyin’, Uncle Mott