Palm Springs

My son Dylan and I go on our annual pilgrimage to Palm Springs
this Thursday - Sunday. The head of one of the companies I work
for hosts it every year. I have a feeling though that this year may
be the last year we have it because the company has gotten so big.


Photos of the Villa Royale, a beautiful Inn where we stayed through
last year. Unfortunately due to the size of the company, we have to
move to a larger more impersonal hotel this year.


Musical Chairs is so much more fun on tequila shots.

There will be much boisterousness and drinking and the shoving
of people into swimming pools. And should someone decide to
shove me into a pool, my son will help me not at all. I know this
due to his history of not helping me in the past. Point in case
below, from last year's trip:


Me after being oh so rudely dragged into the pool last
year.

Also, the main partner in the company is permanently annoyed
with me these days. Not just with me really, with all of us, on ac-
count of too much inventory, declining market etc. Last week on
the phone I was called, and I quote, "a crazy schmuck." I further
infuriated him by spontaneously bursting out in laughter as that
is, after all, one of the funnier names I've been called. I plan to in-
corporate it somehow into an aol screenname and IM him with it
next week. You know, before the trip to California. Just to make
things really interesting when I get there.

Actually though, since this is suposed to be a trip where everyone
forgets about business and stays drunk all of the time (except my
son of course - he picks fruit from nearby trees, surreptitiously
slips it the swimming pools and then laughs as all of the drunk peo-
ple, most of whom are not from California and have never seen fruit
growing on trees, wonder how the pools are bringing up limes,
lemons and oranges). Anyway, so they'll have to be nice to me and
actually, once the alchohol takes hold, all of the sins of the past year
are usually forgiven and everyone gets drunk and parties - again,
except my son, who gets to come every year because I brought him
the first year and they found him so amusing they forbade me to go
without him after that - and... there you have it.


Dylan last year, resting between pranks.

Actually, to be quite honest I think they said something about lik-
ing him better than me. Umm, MUCH better. Something to the
effect that his presence is the only thing that makes MY presence
tolerable. Or words to that effect... So anyway, once again, my son
is my one saving grace.

Here are some pretty views from the top of the Tramway in Palm Springs.
Its so high that the temperature actually changes dramatically from the
city of the Palm Springs to the top of the Tramway. It's also really fucking
scary to ride in. There are all of these people crammed into one cable car.
The cable car doesn't really "latch" onto the cable. Instead the little do-
hickey that hooks it onto the cable just kind of sits on top of the cable and
is secured by, get this, "gravity." Yep. And the cable car turns around as
it goes up and down the hill so you kind of have to elbow people out of
your way to get the photos you want. Umm... that part was no problem
for me ;P