I am not typically the person who posts photos of sunsets every day and I'm unfortunately not the person who makes it a point to step outside and admire a sunset or sunrise on a typical day, either.I'm no Walt Whitman.
I am not a poet, nor prophet.
I am simply a (past) middle-aged man who has been undeservedly but most appreciatively blessed. I have also been blessed with a seemingly perpetual travel bug and a perpetually supportive wife who has been my constant companion all these miles, all these literary-referenced musings, and all these browsed marketplaces of which I write.
Mari and I spent a peacefully relaxing and restorative morning at Will Rogers State Beach during my 50th birthday weekend in September of 2016.
If you recall, that was before a rather hectic (obsessively-itineraried) day which involved snapping the perfect view of the Hollywood sign and having a James Dean moment at the Griffith Observatory, enjoying a live taping of 2 Broke Girls at Warner Brothers Studios, and then, finally, surrendering our hunger pangs to Pink's hot dogs on LaBrea for lunch/dinner at 10 PM.
That was my birthday.
Mari's long California 50th birthday Rose Bowl weekend was now nearly complete save for one final request.
Following a heavenly gourmet birthday lunch at Spago in Beverly Hills (more on that below), and a touristy drive through the bustlingly fashionable Rodeo Drive, Mari and I returned to relax at the Channel Road Inn before heading out (just a five-minute walk, remember) to our little stretch of Will Rogers State Beach to enjoy the sunset.
My favorite not-quite-yet-vintage pineapple-dappled shirt made its second appearance of the trip (4 days = 2 shirts x 2 wearings) during the evening sunset show.
I know you've seen the sun set, maybe even seen it rise, but intentionally and purposefully watching it happen (like it was some DVRed informational or competition program hosted by Lara Spencer or RuPaul) is not an activity most of us regularly schedule.
I am ever thankful for that particular sunset, amateurishly documented here. What you can't see in the photos are the dramatically slow-motioned sweeps the sun swept on its plotted path (seemingly) into the ocean.
It happens slowly at first, then suddenly you turn to take yet another photo or laugh at a dog rescuing a frisbee from the crashing waves, and the moment's almost lost, but it still happens, with or without you.
Trying to make sure every moment happens with me rather than without is why I enjoy fleamarketing and traveling near and far with Mari.
This SoCal sunset inspired me to reflect on the many people we have met throughout our fleamarket travels, searching secondhand stock that has been recollected across time and across the miles onto that one discount table at the center of that ginormous stadium parking lot that meets your collector's gaze and leads you into colorful conversation with an often like-minded individual or charming couple whom you would never have otherwise met.
As I conclude this revisit to California I must confide a confession.
Although last year's birthday adventure was my first trip to California, it was not Mari's. Like our previous Paris adventures, Mari had once ventured to Los Angeles without me.
A national committee meeting had landed Mari in LA for a business weekend about 15 years prior to our TPIR-inspired visit. It was during that professional weekend that Mari first discovered Wolfgang Puck's flagship Spago restaurant and she wanted me to enjoy the experience as well.
Visit the temptalicious site to explore, plan, and make a reservation.
Be sure to request a table in the center courtyard, especially if you are dining during the day. The natural light was almost as breathtaking as the food, but not as breathtaking as a sunset on the beach, of course.
My timeless and tireless thanks, once again, to my life's companion for helping me discover the best views, best bargains, and the best in myself.
Next time, we travel to a new favorite city, a colorfully vibrant European capital with centuries' old inspiring architecture, an eclectically wonderful weekend flea, and a legendary little mermaid.
If you recall, that was before a rather hectic (obsessively-itineraried) day which involved snapping the perfect view of the Hollywood sign and having a James Dean moment at the Griffith Observatory, enjoying a live taping of 2 Broke Girls at Warner Brothers Studios, and then, finally, surrendering our hunger pangs to Pink's hot dogs on LaBrea for lunch/dinner at 10 PM.That was my birthday.
Mari's long California 50th birthday Rose Bowl weekend was now nearly complete save for one final request.
Following a heavenly gourmet birthday lunch at Spago in Beverly Hills (more on that below), and a touristy drive through the bustlingly fashionable Rodeo Drive, Mari and I returned to relax at the Channel Road Inn before heading out (just a five-minute walk, remember) to our little stretch of Will Rogers State Beach to enjoy the sunset.My favorite not-quite-yet-vintage pineapple-dappled shirt made its second appearance of the trip (4 days = 2 shirts x 2 wearings) during the evening sunset show.
I know you've seen the sun set, maybe even seen it rise, but intentionally and purposefully watching it happen (like it was some DVRed informational or competition program hosted by Lara Spencer or RuPaul) is not an activity most of us regularly schedule.
I am ever thankful for that particular sunset, amateurishly documented here. What you can't see in the photos are the dramatically slow-motioned sweeps the sun swept on its plotted path (seemingly) into the ocean.It happens slowly at first, then suddenly you turn to take yet another photo or laugh at a dog rescuing a frisbee from the crashing waves, and the moment's almost lost, but it still happens, with or without you.
Trying to make sure every moment happens with me rather than without is why I enjoy fleamarketing and traveling near and far with Mari.
This SoCal sunset inspired me to reflect on the many people we have met throughout our fleamarket travels, searching secondhand stock that has been recollected across time and across the miles onto that one discount table at the center of that ginormous stadium parking lot that meets your collector's gaze and leads you into colorful conversation with an often like-minded individual or charming couple whom you would never have otherwise met.As I conclude this revisit to California I must confide a confession.
Although last year's birthday adventure was my first trip to California, it was not Mari's. Like our previous Paris adventures, Mari had once ventured to Los Angeles without me.
A national committee meeting had landed Mari in LA for a business weekend about 15 years prior to our TPIR-inspired visit. It was during that professional weekend that Mari first discovered Wolfgang Puck's flagship Spago restaurant and she wanted me to enjoy the experience as well.
Visit the temptalicious site to explore, plan, and make a reservation.
Be sure to request a table in the center courtyard, especially if you are dining during the day. The natural light was almost as breathtaking as the food, but not as breathtaking as a sunset on the beach, of course.
My timeless and tireless thanks, once again, to my life's companion for helping me discover the best views, best bargains, and the best in myself.
Next time, we travel to a new favorite city, a colorfully vibrant European capital with centuries' old inspiring architecture, an eclectically wonderful weekend flea, and a legendary little mermaid.
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