Now that most smart people have vaccinated they can again travel. I'm going to assume that's you. Still don’t know where to go yet? Allow me to help while
shamelessly pushing my book, WHERE THE HELL AM I? TRIPS I HAVE SURVIVED
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WTHAI?TISH (as most people refer to it) is a
ten year collection of my humorous travelogues. Here are a few
excerpts to help you decide where to go this summer. The book was written several years ago, but many of these attractions like the Gateway Arch and Haleakala.
DALLAS – (most people’s first choice for August travel) On every
corner there’s either a steakhouse or a church. One place called
“Holy Cow” could be either or both.
LAS VEGAS -- We hit the beach. Yes, Mandalay Bay has its own
beach. Unfortunately, the ocean was turned off. No waves. But I took a long walk along the grid that serves as the shore
and gazed out at the horizon to see the Lance Burton Magician billboard
on Las Vegas Avenue.
MAUI – Did not see the sunrise at Haleakala. But did get a
report from someone who did. A bus picks you up 2:30 in the morning.
You drive an hour and a half to the top of this massive shield volcano.
By top I mean 10,023 feet. You get out in your shorts, flip flops, and
aloha shirt -- it’s pitch black, and 22 degrees (literally). When the
sun comes up (two hours later) it will rise to 37. Finally the
dawn. It’s breathtaking, awesome, and your teeth are chattering like
castanets. You don’t want to even think about the possibility that
there’s a YouTube video of this. You get on the bus and either go home
or into shock.
For
more fun you can bike down the outside of the volcano… like a rocket on
a two-lane winding road that hugs a cliff that’s steeper than those in
Road Runner cartoons. Bikers must also negotiate tour buses, vans, and
tourists in unfamiliar rental cars. In 2007 there were three biker
fatalities. Bike tours (when they’re not suspended) are $100 - $150
dollars. Bring a parachute.
But we did visit quaint Lahaina. Strolled past the charming
Crazy-T-Shirt and souvenir soap stores. This bawdy whaling port has
not changed in a hundred years.
For all the hoopla of Lahaina, we found quite a few other smaller,
lesser-known little towns that were far more charming and KFC-free.
Paia, for one. It’s advertised as a throwback “hippie” village. And I
must say it took me right back to the ‘60s when hippies supported their
drug habits by selling gelato.
Makawao is another quaint attraction. Up country, it’s a little cowboy
town, specializing in glass blowing – just like Wyatt Earp and Billy the
Kid used to do. I kept looking for the jail and saloon but alas
they’ve given way to art galleries and a market that makes fresh donuts.
But get there early. They go fast. There’s usually a shoot-out in
the town square for the last cruller.
PHOENIX -- This is a sprawling city of giant shopping malls
broken up by sports complexes. Oh, and numerous aircraft bone yards.
From rusted out WWII planes to 747s that haven’t flown since Braniff
went under, they’re all here. Was hoping to swing by and pick up an
L1011 fuselage but time got away.
To get anywhere in Phoenix – to work, a restaurant, the rental car
outpost from the airport – you just get on the freeway and go 13.2
miles. Everything is 13.2 miles away. Except Circle K’s. There are two
on every corner. How much beef jerky can this town chew?
DENVER -- Denver is the most sexually active city in America.
Contraceptive sales are 189% higher within the city limits than the
national average (sales of female contraceptives are a whopping 278%
higher). Coincidentally, Denver also has the world’s largest brewery
(Coors).
Things not to miss: The Butterfly Pavilion insect zoo, the “Mind
Eraser” rollercoaster at Elitch Gardens, the giant cement slide at Bear
Valley Park that looks like a vagina, the Buckhorn Exchange restaurant
with 500 stuffed animals (it’s how I imagine Elizabeth Hasselbeck’s
bedroom), the stone marker that claims to be the birthplace of the
cheeseburger, and any CVS pharmacy for contraceptives.
ST. LOUIS -- St. Loo is famous of course for the Anheuser-Busch
brewery. Although, locals insist it’s not the same now that the Busch
family has sold it to Germans. They claim the beer tastes different. I
couldn’t tell, but I did notice the Clydesdales goose-stepping in a
recent parade.
PHILADELPHIA -- Meant to get out to the Mutter Museum, founded
originally to educate doctors of the 19th Century and current HMO’s.
Big attractions include conjoined twins and a catalog of foreign objects
removed from bodies. Bring the kids!
This is the birthplace of two major revolutions – the American and
shopping. It is in nearby Westchester that QVC is located, which is
why I thought I saw Marie Osmond at baggage claim waiting at the
carousel for 42,000 dolls to come down the chute.
SAN FRANCISCO
-- Fisherman's Wharf is filled with colorful street performers: mimes
and jugglers, etc. Most unique was the “Shrub Guy.” He hides behind a
shrub in camouflage and when unsuspecting tourists stroll by he leaps
out scaring the shit out of them. Meanwhile, other people observe
nearby, laugh, and give him money. On a grander scale this is how Liza
Minnelli now makes her living.
MILWAUKEE – (on the road with the Dodgers) stayed at the historic
Pfister. The Pfister is pfirst class. It’s an old regal downtown
hotel that just happens to be haunted. Some ballplayers are so freaked
they stay elsewhere, or sleep holding a bat for protection. Carlos
Gomez of the Twins was getting out of the shower and his iPod suddenly
went haywire, so instead of calling AppleCare (or Ghostbusters?), he
raced out to the lobby without his pants. I shared a room with the
Ghost of Christmas Future. He told me that “UFC Undisputed” will sell
out quick this season so shop early.
One thing I’ve discovered about Milwaukee – it’s in a time warp. The
buildings, the cars, the people – it’s 1956. Friday night’s postgame
concert featured newcomers Buddy Holly and the Crickets. In an attempt
to blend in I wore an “Adlai Stevenson for President” button.
FLORIDA – (business trip with my writing partner, David) If a
studio was paying for this trip we would have stayed in Naples. But
since it was our own dime, Bonita Beach was our Gateway to the Gulf
home. In the ‘20s there was this cult, the Koreshans, who believed
that Bonita Beach was the center of the world. It was a celibate tribe
so unfortunately it no longer exists. (Darwin works!) There’s just a
state park in their honor. And if I’m not mistaken, the Hampton Inn we
were staying at is at the center of Bonita Beach, and room 229, just to
our left, is the absolute DEAD center of the world.
No wonder the Holiday Inn across the street is proud. Their marquee proclaims “Number one guest rated shower heads.”
Favorite store name (maybe ever): “Master Bait & Tackle Shop” on Bonita Beach Road. Yes, I purchased t-shirts.