They Still Roller Blade in Santa Monica

LA/XC-4 DAYS TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE AND THIRTEEN:  POSTING FROM SANTA MONICA

Two-day mileage (Tempe, AZ to Los Angeles):  447

Total LA/XC-4 mileage:  3,602

Road Music:  Sunday:  Sirius Radio — “The Hot 45” on The Highway with Storme Warren; Green Day’s Dookie, for old time’s sake; Monday: Mets vs. Washington — opening day!  (They won!  Looking for them to go 162-0!)

Weather leaving Tempe, AZ Sunday morning:  83 degrees, bright sunshine, exquisite

Weather arriving Los Angeles, Monday afternoon:  68 degrees, blue sky, cool and pleasant — but rainy (!) on Tuesday

Two-day state tally: 2 (Arizona, California)

Gas money to date:  $313.14

Most enchanting road signs:  Huarquahala Valley Road, AZ ; Lovekin Blvd., Blythe, CA (I like “Blythe” as well)

Ah!  A new day!  A new lease on life!  The beautiful California sunshine!  Got not one, but two days worth of desperately-needed sleep — 10:45PM to 9:15AM — Tuesday night!  Took Kemba for a glorious, almost 2-hour walk along the Beach Promenade — Greatest Show on Earth, from ’60s-style hippies to the very latest in Spandex-and-skin — from Santa Monica to Venice Beach and back!  This following two rollicking hours in the Herb Katz dog park (part of

Joslyn Park) on the Strand between 6th and 7th Streets!  Kemba’s now besties with a beagle — a beagle! — named Barkley, as in Sir Charles: a pair of NBA dogs!  Drove over there with all the windows down and the moonroof wide open, Little Big Town blasting from the audio!  At the end of the day, Kemba — who’s only recently returned from the dark side — was absolutely wiped, and slept like a log!  One of my positive mood swings?  Ya think?

Arrival here in L.A. on Monday, and the first full day on Tuesday, however, were anything but smooth.  Kemba was still

possessed.  (More about that momentarily.)  I was still sleep-deprived.  The weather on Tuesday was cool and rainy.  (This happens here every century or so.)  Had to go with Robby to traffic court to try to help him settle a $100 jay-walking ticket that had escalated to $900 because of late payment.  (Robby specializes in these non-vehicular violations:  He also got a $450 ticket for bicycling through a stop sign.)  Couldn’t even put my two-months-in-law-school expertise to use because friends-and-family were barred from the courtroom.  Robby, however, apparently shares some of my legal flair (let’s recall my stunning victory in the Brattleboro VT speeding ticket case), and worked out a pretty good settlement on his own.  After this exhausting day, I fell asleep on my laptop while attempting to post.

But all that has changed!  I love this place!  My room at the Loews Santa Monica (Loews Loves Pets!) has a view of the Pacific out one side, and the Santa Monica Pier out the other!  Best shower in the world!  Kemba has his own little balcony to perch on!  The front desk, valet, and housekeeping

personnel are all already in love with him, and they know me and my Beagle Man ways from LA-XC-1, -2, and -3 when I stayed here with Ricky.  There’s a dog park on every block!  Everybody’s fit!  Everybody’s good-looking!

So back, for a minute, to Kemba’s demonization.  One night in our motel room — I forget which one; they’ve all run together — after about a week on the road, he started barking in that shrill, shrieky way Duck Tollers can do (maybe the ducks like it?), and then started biting my sneakers, my sweatshirt . . . my skin.  Actually biting.  Biting me!  He had just had it with this car-all-day, different-motel-every-night routine.  He was batshit, nuts — all but feral.

This Linda Blair-like behavior continued Monday night, when he terrorized Robby and his friends at the Teke house while we tried to watch the Duke-Wisconsin final.  And on Tuesday, he went after Brooke, Claire, and Allie — Robby’s friends who watched him while we had our day in court, and had a humpfest at the Pacific

Avenue dog park back in Santa Monica.  That night, I took him for a long walk along Ocean Avenue, and he finally settled down.  Became positively angelic, in fact.  This behavior continued into the next morning.  I went into the shower, feeling great that Kemba had once again become my good, good dog.  When I turned off the water, it seemed suspiciously quiet.  I peeked out and saw Kemba on the carpet, my wad of cash spread out in front of him, a couple of bills ripped to shreds.  He was peacefully munching on some Washingtons (cheap taste); the fives, tens, and twenties were all intact.  He calmly looked up at me, head tilted, as if to say, “Hey, you told me to stay away from your flip-flops.  What was I gonna do?”

He’s been a perfect gentleman since:  I think the relaxed routine here at the Loews on the beach agrees with him.  But I’m starting to dread the eastward trip home which, with all the stops in the Northwest that Matt and I have planned, will be even longer than the trip out.  After maybe two days on the road, I know what Kemba’s gonna be thinking:  This again?  Maybe I should just let him run home to WePo from San Francisco.  Dogs can do that, can’t they?

On Tuesday at the above-mentioned Pacific Avenue dog park, there was a woman sitting on the bench wearing only socks, no shoes, on her feet.  I found this odd and wondered about it — until she starting preparing to leave and began lacing up her roller blades.  I’d assumed that roller blades were old-school — that for sure something else had taken over by now in this latest-thing-crazy town.  But then moments later, in a parking lot, I saw another woman, sitting in the open hatch-back of her car, also putting on roller blades.  So maybe not so passe after all.

Speaking of passe, the Pacific Avenue dog park is so yesterday for me now.  Tara, who owns Teddy (Kemba’s victim in the photo, up a few and right), told me about the aforementioned Joslyn Park, also close to the Loews, but much larger than Pacific Avenue and with more room to roam.  Looks like that one gets the nod as our “home” dog park for the rest of our stay.

And now, to catch up on some earlier episodes of DOG PARKS ACROSS AMERICA:

•  Bit of an odd thing happened at the dog park in Tempe Arizona on Sunday.  As Kemba and I were about

to enter, two big, well-built guys were leaving with their dogs.  One of them muttered to me, “Good luck, you and your dog are gonna need it” — and then glanced back meaningfully to the dogs in the park.  At the same time, Kemba — still outside the double-gated fences all these dog parks have — was being bayed at by a pack of what sounded like ferocious junk yard dogs.  But I’m big on leaving things for the dogs to work out — even though I’m well aware that both Kemba and I may come to regret this trusting attitude one day.  So in we go, and, as usual,

Kemba gets along perfectly with every dog.  Turns out the whole pack was rescued by Cam, Kam, and Cooper, 3 young dudes who adopt dogs and also play all over the West coast in a band called Genesis Company.  The guys who left the park were scared off because several of the dogs had a good bit of pitbull in them, and looked intimidating.  Proving again, you can’t judge a book . . .

•  Great dog park in Loma Linda, next town over from San Bernardino.  Oddly, though, Kemba and I were the only ones there.  He got his share of exercise, but missed out on his favorite thing: shmoozing with the guys.

Finally:  Can’t close without remembering our dear, sweet, handsome Ricky the Beagle, who sniffed his last sniff one

year ago on Tuesday.  Also Tuesday:  my mom’s birthday, may she rest in peace.

Mets lost to the Nats last night — so it looks like they’ll only go 161-1.

RANDOM ROAD NOTES:

•  Was surprised and amazed, while watching the Kentucky-Wisconsin semi-final game Saturday night at a B-Dubs in Tempe, AZ, to see that it was still only 8:30.  I was sure it was an hour later; I hadn’t made that good time.  Then I was reminded that Arizona never goes on Daylight Savings Time (or something), so while they’re technically in the Mountain Time Zone, their time is the same as it would be in the Pacific Time Zone.  I was so flabbergasted by these 60 minutes I’d unwittingly picked up that I wasted the entire hour being perplexed . . .

•  Saw first legit cacti of the trip between Tempe and San Bernardino, CA.  Had seen cactus-like vegetation previously, but not the real thing . . .

•  Two blondes in a Mustang on I-10 West:  Must be getting near Cali (Ah, yes, road sign:  LOS ANGELES 289)

•  Lose track of all things real when on the road:  Forgot it was Seder night last Friday till Carol reminded me; forgot it was Final Four semi-finals on Saturday till Robby reminded me; forgot it was Easter Sunday till Cam at the dog park in Tempe wished me a “Happy Easter.”  Did somehow remember that Monday was Mets opening day  and NCAA championship game

I PLAN TO POST AS CLOSE TO DAILY AS POSSIBLE WHILE KEMBA AND I ARE ON THE ROAD.  BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY:  MAN PLANS, GOD LAUGHS.   OH, AND BTW, YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW ME ON FACEBOOK, TWITTER AND INSTAGRAM.