Ah Monterey.... Probably my favorite place in the world. This picture doesn't begin to do it justice. Any beautiful place you've been to you can forget about. Seen the Rockies? -frozen rocks. Been to the beaches of Florida? -muggy sandbox. Fall in New England? -dead leaves. There are beautiful places and then there is the central coast. Meg Ryan is a pretty woman but stand her next to Heidi Klum and she might as well be Roseanne Arnold.
My hotel was called Butterfly Grove because it is the largest butterfly sanctuary in America. A couple mornings I had to shoo away a deer from my car. There are otters and seals playing in the water below you and whales in the distance if you pay attention. The most beautiful golf courses in the world are there and the world's most exclusive auto show in the world is held ON a fairway. Are you getting my point? I could go on but I'm sure It's getting tedious.
Every night I soaked in my jacuzzi tub watching the fireplace listening to the waves crash and thought, "Who do I have to kill to live here?" If you made the list you'll know soon. I spent a lot of my spare time climbing around on the rocks looking in tide pools. Not something you can do in Arizona. On a drive south towards Big Sur I saw a sign that read "Coastal Access" that led to a footpath as it turned out. I have since written a letter to the Coastal Commission of California explaining that in the interest of public safety it should read "Coastal Access (not you fat boy)" During the parts when I was sliding down the hill on my ass I should have been thinking of how exactly I was going to climb out in loafers but I didn't let something as petty as survival instinct get in my way.
After my little brush with natural selection I stopped at Rocky Point Grill which is where I took the picture above. That has to be the most enjoyable beer I've ever had. I was overlooking the most famous spot on the PCH, glad to be alive (and picking gravel out of my elbows) and watching whales work their way north. You can't actually see the whales just their puffs as the cruise by in the distance. What was neat about that was watching the infrequent big puffs interspersed with the more frequent little puffs as the mothers guided their calves up the coast. Sigh.....
I've done the math and if I sell my condo and my car, sell my plasma weekly and adapt to a diet of ramen and Totino's pizzas I can afford to live in a converted port-o-john in Carmel. After a couple years I could sell and use the equity to move into a tool shed in Pacific Grove. If I keep it up by the time I'm 80 I can sell my condo and buy South Dakota. Plan B: Practice until I can do origami with my tongue and cruise the bingo parlors looking for a "sponsor". Don't judge me people - Anna Nicole Smith's husband looked like a turkey neck in a wheelchair.
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