Tell You Thursday, that's what the kids are saying. right?

I've technically taken part in 33 New Years Eve passages and surprisingly, can recall most.  Early years were spent with my parents or parents' friends, taking turns watching my smallness while they partied in their shoulder pads (it was the 80s people.)  Young childhood was spent sleeping in bed.  Tween awkwardness enjoyed the challenge of a midnight deadline, while giggling with girlfriends about which New Kids' member we were totally going to marry (it was the early 90s people.)  Teenage years were spent with friends, engaging in questionable activities with questionable people wearing my favorite clothes from the thrift store.  Post-high school opened my world to regret and bad choices.  New Years with Travis, however, was going to be different!  He loved watching the clock move past 12am, either alone or with close friends, doing something that required thought.  I was ok with this.

One such future night, let's call it 2005, we found ourselves heading to Joshua Tree, CA, to spend the wee hours celebrating at the famed Rancho de la Luna.  If you're not famialir with the Rancho, it's the deserts answer to Sound City.  A mecca for that scene.  The tremendous albums recorded there is kinda boggling - just ask Trav, cuz he has most of them.  The cozy house furniture has seen some of the most talented bums eat, sleep and record there. The Desert Sessions, Kyuss, QOTSA, Dave Grohl, PJ Harvey, Chris Goss, earthlings?, Mark Lanegan (double swoon), and many others have traipsed those floors.  It rules and I felt honored to be summoned.

We were invited by our friend and hence forth he will be known as the dude).  The dude was good friends* with the owner, Dave Catching.  * because this no longer friend turned out to be suspicious in most things, so it's quite possible he barely knew Dave and we were about to crash this rad party!  ha!  This guy luckily brought his girlfriend Jeannine, who is no longer with him, but remains awesome to this day - so at least we had someone to hang with if no one else spoke to us.  She could have cared less about what the Rancho meant, I thought it was awesome going to a scene I had little exposure to, Travis was all grins.

The four of us drove together and landed in Joshua Tree around 9pm.  Checked into the hotel that was walking distance down the road, unpacked nothing BECAUSE TRAVIS WAS SO EXCITED, and made our way to the house.  I remember looking down while the others talked about something.  I didn't care what.  The chilled, clean desert air hit me against the darkness - just like I was back in the Antelope Valley (the desert I grew up in.) I spent way too many nights in that desert, roaming around, doing and thinking about 'stuff'.  I always vowed once I moved away, I'd never go back.  So walking the dirt again melded my former and current self, and kinda freaked me out for a spell.  But something raised my attention and I looked up to see the Rancho's firepit glow, striking against the black sky & white stars.  This was me now, not that other Brandi.

A few steps brought us to the front door, more quickly than a savored second.  I think Christmas lights were strung all around, in strange ways that made sense.  The door opened without hesitation and there we were.  Travis had been talking this place up so I had time to visualize my idea of what it would be.  I can't describe what I imagined, but reality was smaller and more 60s than my mind expected.  It was sweet.  And it was a home.  It was literally Dave's home and it was perfect.  The people milling inside paid no attention upon our arrival, giving us time to take in the atmosphere, watch the dude say hi to Dave, and wait patiently for a tour.

The dude showed us around, highlighting the guitars used for this album, the mixing console where that album was conceived, the photos, the stuff, and the history.  It was fascinating.  I couldn't imagine this being my house, having so many people around my very breakable and valuable things.  Especially people I didn't know.  But people respect that place - it's like mandatory when you walk through the door.  After the dude bid us adieu, I guess that meant it was time to be social.

The Rancho had a small patio that looked like most houses with a continued source of guests.  Everything was sun-worn, chairs were off-kilter, cigarettes butts were either mid-draw or extinguished, and kitschy items scattered.  Oh, and it was dusty; dust I was used to.  There was a tiki type bar, some mismatched stools facing it, bricks facing the firepit, and a turkey fryer.  Just as many people were inside, as they were outside.  The patrons waiting for drinks were sitting and standing, up down, up down, in that order.  I liked that visual and thought I wish I had a camera.  Wanting to help ease any nerves, I surprisingly found a spot for both Jeannine and I at the bar.  Travis stayed in the corner so people wouldn't hit his back.  That corner hangout afforded him the opportunity to throw away a cute ladies chicken bone, in turn bringing two great people into our lives - Melissa & Tony are a trip story all their own.  After a pleasant tattooed girl served us both drinks, we mustered up some conversation with the guests.  I'm usually pretty good at that, even if I'm nervous.  Any remaining instinct to cling to one another, drowned after each drink.  These people were superbly fun and easy to get along with.  Soon after, Jeannine buggered off to find the dude.  Travis was in the corner, talking with our new friends.  I was alone, losing momentum in the conversation pie chart.

Not long after I could stare at my drink no more, a very tall, very friendly, sweet man came over and said hi.  He was older than me, with an infectious voice, and LIKE 7 FEET TALL!  no exaggeration.  He announced his name as Brian, and put forth his hand to shake - his hands are like 3 of mine on a bad day.  I liked him right away.  We talked about drinks, and the people, and photography.  I love taking photos - always, always have.  He moved his coat and enveloped his hand around a teensy camera, pulled it from his neck, handing it to me.  Now I was holding the normal size black plastic time preserver.  He said, "Here!  I found this camera and I don't know who it belongs to, but there's film in it. Have fun!"  How awesome.  I insisted he join me in this experience, so we each took a couple before closing the conversation.  We promised to talk later, but I can't remember if that happened.  I was talking with Brian "Big Hands" O'Connor (yes that is a regular size bottle), who was in a band I loved, but had no idea.  I prefer that actually, not knowing.  wish we had remained buds.

I no longer cared about talking and just started taking pictures. The people, neon, drinks, bar, stuff, the fire, the fryer... it relaxes me.  Shortly after Brian left, Travis must have wrapped up his conversation with Tony & Melissa, he excitedly ran over and asked if I knew who I had been talking to.  I was like yeah, it was Brian.  Did you see that guys hands?  duh!  who was I talking too... of course Trav knew him.  And with that, motion set in for a great night, with pretty great people.  An adventure I am extremely happy to have shared, even if those people never mutter about me and my role in their own experience.

I ended up leaving the camera somewhere.  Or giving it to someone - I don't remember.  But I do remember I never found out who it belonged to.  So it leaves me with a story, but no end.  I don't know if the film was ever developed and if it was, where those photos live today.  They might be at the Rancho or in another country.  I am always a sucker for detective stories, so maybe I'll start asking around some day.

I'm not great at social media.  I can read, type and respond, but I'm not hip to the fleeting trends.  I just say stuff and hope people get a laugh or find new thought.  And I learned a long time ago if I'm going to complain, at least make it interesting.  The whole reason I wrote this was because of the kids on the Twitter.  Thursdays say "Hey look at young me - what was I thinking!" and Fridays suggest online friendships that will never happen.  I don't participate, but I often think about what I'm seeing.  Thursday, which was yesterday per the calendar, an unusual amount of TBT photos were unleashed.  I've been listening to a lot of desert rock bands lately, many of which are close friends of the Rancho.  So my brain started filtering through all the photos I've taken over the years.  A light went on in a far-off doorway regarding the story I just told and I wanted to share.

At this moment, I'm not sure if I have photos from that night.  If I don't, this is my version of a timely throwback/thinkback Thursday.

Grocery etiquette.

Oh Whole Foods, you never cease to help me say “You can all fuck off.”

Tonight, while I unloaded my hand-grocery basket onto the conveyer, two chicks decided I wasn’t really in line yet and went ahead of me without asking.  Now listen, I’m a classy lady so I let it go.  I even let it go when they both looked at me, my eyes instantly judging them while they instantly turned guilty.  The Whole Foods I frequent has floor to ceiling columns next to each register, where last minute impulse buys are ready for the taking.  So it was possible they didn’t see me, but nope, see prior sentence.

But it kept poking at me.  On my turn, I asked the checker if that was new etiquette policy, describing what happened. He said no way & how sorry he was he didn’t see it happen.  If they do, they always send those people to the end of the line.  I thanked him for understanding.  As I walked back to my car, lo and behold, there were the two chicks starting to back out of their parking space.  And in my mind, they must have been parked liked jerks at a funky angle, because, c’mon, of course they were.  In seeing a one-time opportunity, I decided to get back at them in my own, sweet way.

I scooted past the car so I was able to walk in the middle of the drive path, holding my groceries.  Of course, normally these people frustrate me – like you know there’s a car behind you, just walk to the side!!  But tonight, it’s in my favor.  I walked slow and confusedly looked for my car.  And oh no, dropped some cereal and yogurt from my bag.  I could feel the anger permeate the metal and head in my direction.  Which was awesome.  I slowly put all the goodies back into my bag and casually made my way to the car, and they eventually sped off.

Don’t fuck with me ladies.