August 16, 1990
Dear Everyone:
I simply can’t
tell you how much I enjoyed
my vacation in Central and Southern Oregon.
Everyone went to so much trouble to make it a truly memorable
experience.
Take the heat wave… please.
Of course, they didn’t have to go to so much trouble.
Actually, I’ve been in heat waves before.
And I understand that, had I stayed in sunny California, I would
have been able to enjoy a comparable heat wave.
In fact, no matter where you went that week, it seemed that
people were getting fried.
Even in London, where “Melanie” and “Alma” were on a business trip, I
hear they had temperatures that broke records going back to Henry II.
Now the forest fire was different.
Not many of those in downtown Concord.
Not that I wouldn’t have been just as happy without it.
But it was interesting to see the contrast between CNN reporting
on the invasion of Kuwait, with their computer graphics and on-the-spot
reporters, and the local TV station, where the “anchor” clung grimly to
his post, holding up a local map pinned to a board to show the “hot
spots”.
The canoe ride was a lot of fun and I’ve almost
completely recovered from the sunburn which, in retrospect, “Jeannie”
and I figured came from sunlight reflecting off the inside of the metal
canoe. Next time I’ll know
to ask for a canoe that’s been Astroturf-ed on the inside.
Or to concentrate the sun block on the “shady” parts of my
anatomy.
It was great of “Richard” to arrange for alternate
accommodations, even if it did mean unpacking and repacking 3 times.
Not a problem when you just stuff everything in a plastic garbage
bag and toss it into the car.
Only slightly harder on those of us who prefer a somewhat more
structured approach.
Still, I maintained a positive outlook, serenely
assuring myself that, once we reached Ashland, I could relax in
air-conditioned comfort in a room where I could unpack to my heart’s
content.
Silly me.
About an hour after we checked into Room 217 at the
“Will’s Place”, “Frankie” realized that the “air-conditioner” wasn’t
working. The temperature
inside was only slightly lower than it was outside, about 99 degrees.
We all trooped down to the office to report the problem to the
desk clerk, a would-be Liza Minelli look-alike (short, spiked black
hair, 6 coats of black mascara, bright red lipstick).
She agreed to move us to another room “just for tonight”.
This, of course, meant repacking and re-unpacking, but who cares?
The air-conditioner worked, so we were happy.
The next day, I happened to return to the room for
just a moment before heading off to the Black Swan for our first matinee
play, The Second Man.
I found the chambermaid on the phone with “John”, the desk clerk,
who insisted that we had to vacate the room
immediately to make room for
some people who had arrived.
I tried telling him to just put these people in 217 (“John” insisted
that the air-conditioner was being fixed) in our place but he refused.
Personally, I suspect that none of these “desk clerks” knew how
to work the computer to the extent of changing the names that went with
the room numbers.
At any rate, at 1:35, with the play starting at
2:00 and no seating of latecomers, I ended up racing back and forth (in
100 degrees) gathering up all of our things and taking them back to 217.
I got to the theatre with approximately 20 seconds to spare.
I’m thinking of trying out for the Olympics next year.
After the play (which we enjoyed very much), we
went back to 217 to find that the air-conditioner still didn’t work.
When we complained to “Liza”, she simply refused to do anything
about it. We decided to wait
until the heavy artillery (“Alice”) arrived, but even “Alice” couldn’t
convince “Liza” that it was her job to make the paying guests
comfortable, not to mention that forcing us to leave the other room was
against the law.
Finally, “Liza” called the “Cleopatra” Hotel which
had a room available. So we
repacked and checked out of the “Will’s Place” and moved into the
“Cleopatra”. By this time, I
had become superstitious:
It’s bad luck to unpack. I
left everything in the suitcases.
The “Cleopatra” is beautifully decorated with
antiques. Antique dresser,
antique tables, antique black-and-white TV, antique lamps with antique
bulbs. Maximum wattage:
about 40. But the
air-conditioner was not antique, thank God, and neither were the beds.
By leaving the air-conditioner on 24 hours a day, we kept the
room in the mid-70’s and that made us happy.
And the bathroom was truly wonderful.
Every time I stepped into it, I wondered how they could have fit
a toilet, shower and sink into a room only twice as big as my
refrigerator. There are
certain advantages to being under 5’ 3” tall and that shower was
definitely one of them.
In fact, “Alice” and “Kelly” were so taken with the
“Cleopatra”, particularly with the fact that they could get a room there
for less than they were paying the “Will’s Place”, that they moved out
and joined us. Lest you
think we’re just a bunch of complainers, “Jeannie” overheard a couple of
women in the Tudor Guild Gift shop saying how unhappy they were with the
“Will’s Place” and how they were going to look for somewhere
else to stay.
Another interesting experience was getting soaked
to the skin while watching
The Winter’s
Tale. All in all, it
was quite an experience.
When “Jeannie” and I left Ashland last Friday, it
was with a reluctant heart and a heavy foot.
We made only 2 stops (102 in the valley) and arrived in Pleasant
Hill in 5½ hours. I dropped
her off, said a brief hello to her ducks and went home.
There I dragged my suitcases one last time while muttering:
“There’s no place like home; there’s no place like home.”
Of course, we’ll do it all again next year, right?
Except for the part about the “Will’s Place”.
Unless they come under new management, I think we’ll be crossing
them off our list. And,
hopefully, no heat waves. Or
thunderstorms.
Shucks!
I’ll even go back to
Sunriver…
… just as soon as the
Pope has twins.
Love, as always,
Pete
| Previous | Next |