Georgia O'Keeffe and Led Zeppelin

Dave and I drove to Venice Beach yesterday morning, and spent a couple of hours walking around and having lunch by the ocean. Some people describe Venice as seedy, and it does have a very urban feel, but I like the colorful characters and street art and buskers and taco stands and t-shirt shops. There were guys (and girls) playing pick-up basketball, as well as something I'd never heard of called teqball. There were people on skateboards and roller skates, and people lifting weights at Muscle Beach. A lot happening!

It was only late morning by the time we got there, but we settled into a sidewalk cafe (aptly named The Sidewalk Cafe) and had an early lunch. It was a peculiar menu, with omelettes named after John Denver, Emily Dickinson, Will Rogers and Georgia O'Keeffe. What's the connection between Emily Dickinson and a plain cheese omelette? (I ordered a Georgia O'Keeffe without the bacon.) There were burgers named after Dylan Thomas, John Irving and Zane Grey. Mysterious!

A nearby guitar player skillfully strummed tunes by Eric Clapton and Santana as we ate. Afterwards we walked up and down the sidewalk checking out the scene.

There was a lot of marijuana smoke drifting around.

Here I am in front of a typically colorful mural. And you'll note I'm wearing my Bahamian fish shirt! I blended right in.

(As we were taking this picture, a couple of guys rode by on bicycles, carrying beers -- at 10 a.m. -- and hooting loudly. "We're scaring the tourists!" one yelled to the other.)

We only barely ventured onto the sand. The beach was so wide that the water seemed about a mile out -- I thought we might die of thirst before we got there and back.

Afterwards, Dave wanted a nap, so I dropped him at the hotel and set out on a driving odyssey of my own. I wanted to hit some Goodwill thrift shops, and on Google Maps I found one in West Hollywood and another in Santa Monica that seemed doable.

I was sitting at a stoplight on Beverly Boulevard by a Ralph's supermarket, the sun shining through the trees and warming my face, with Led Zeppelin's gentle guitar ballad "Going to California" on the car radio, when I suddenly had a moment of bliss that I could almost call ecstasy -- a feeling that everything is beautiful. I swear, being in the sunshine is doing me a world of good.

The Goodwills, unfortunately, were a bust. I didn't buy anything in either one. I did find a beautiful Robert Graham shirt in the one in Santa Monica, but alas, it was the wrong size.

Finally, last night, Dave and I had dinner at Merois, a Wolfgang Puck restaurant atop the Pendry Hotel off Sunset Boulevard with stunning views over the city. I had West Coast oysters on the half-shell, followed by Shanghai lobster and a delicious coconut/tapioca/mango dessert called halo halo; Dave had a crab salad followed by a pork shank and a chocolate-hazelnut cake. I wondered what their martinis would be like, but I didn't go there since I'm the designated driver. (The only driver -- Dave no longer has a license.)

Today, off to Palm Springs!