Welcome to Sky Valley

The first time I came to the desert was something of a magical experience. We’d sneak into the hot springs at night; me, my buddy, and this young girl that lived nearby. We’d smoke joints, and relax the night away– I’d float on my back and gaze at the stars, while the girl would drag me around; my head nested between her wet breasts. We’d spend our days exploring the valley; hanging out at various exotic businesses, and basking in that pinnacle of contemporary culture feeling that only LA and it’s outskirts happens to possess. New York likes to pretend it’s the king city of the USA, but it’s not true– most of it’s inhabitants have a snobby, aristocratic air– the exact opposite of everything America once stood for. I’ve always found LA to be the true king of the US cities– one of the few places that still mirrors what the nation was like when it was founded– a place where many live, but where almost none were actually from.

After returning to the valley for the first time since before 9/11, I can honestly say…I made a colossal mistake. To be honest, I never even wanted to come, and I’m not sure how my buddy tricked me into it. Actually, I do know how– the bastard got me to say that the only reason I didn’t want to go was because I didn’t want to spend money on a plane ticket. While this was true, it was hardly the only reason I didn’t want to go. My time off is precious, and there are about a million other places on my list of places to visit, but I could tell he wanted me to go, and I didn’t want to bring up all that and hurt the guys feelings….even though that’s exactly what I should have done: "…..ok, cool…I have enough frequent flier miles to cover your ticket, so you won’t even have to worry about it!" Gee. Swell. And just like that, I spent my first proper vacation in ten years in the exact same place I spent my last proper vacation…only this time, I only managed to get my hands on a sliver of the magic that has haunted my memories for so long.

I had my expectations set pretty low, which was fortunate…as they would perpetually be pushed lower and lower, the longer the trip went on. To start, my buddy booked us for wayyyyy too long. I was expecting a week, at the most– what I got was two. This time, there were no joints. There were no buxom young ladies to tote me around the hot springs (no women, AT ALL, in fact, under the age of 60). What I got, instead, was a two week sausage-fest consisting of his entire over-privileged under-worked overly-cocky obnoxious racist family up my ass for the entire two week duration. Had I known ANY of them would be out there, I’d have violently declined…but he waited until mid-flight to spring this information on me. Every day that passed, more and more would pile on…flying in from all over, all congregating at his tiny house in the park. I can not convey in words how obnoxious these fucks are…just imagine the bad guy in every 80’s teen comedy, and put them all together in a room. See them? Blond hair? Condescending laughter? Discussions about tennis, why white men are superior to all others, and the family fortune? (I should probably mention that my buddies family owns the resort we stayed at, as well as many factories across the US). The only one of them who has ever had anything close to a job was cousin Sam– Sam, whose calves are about as thick as whole hams, and who walks with his gump-face craned forward like Slingblade, somehow managed to be in the army for a while. He has never had sex with a willing female– but he has spent weeks at a time in various brothels of the world. After getting discharged from the army for something or other, he was in the process of signing up with Blackwater around the time it started getting hit with all the controversy…so he just moved back to the estate, and pursued a life of privileged leisure instead. Rest assured, he’s quite sad he won’t get to kill people though…he reminds me of the type of kid who would torture small animals for fun. Then there’s brother Adam, the only one that I can ALMOST tolerate, who not too long ago made it on the price is FUCKING right, and won the entire goddamn showcase (new car, 10,000 dollars, jet skis, million other things he didn’t need at all). A surprise visit from my buddies parents on the second to last day of the trip (today), was just the icing on the cake…

Oh, please…don’t get up. I’m just getting started. Once I learned about all of this fuckshittery, I decided I was going to rent a car and take a little mini-trip in the middle of my half-a-month trip, and go and visit someone new. I thrive on excitement and surprise, the very opposite of what my "can’t leave my lazy-ass-comfort-zone" buddy (and host) does. He spent his vacation doing exactly what he does at home– playing video games, eating out, and watching crappy reality TV. If I was going to be pretty much left to my own devices with virtually nothing to do but drive a golf cart around in circles and go swimming in hot springs, with no one else for a billion miles to play with, I was going to have to make or meet some new friends. I decided that since half of my OD readers lived within 10 hours drive from Sky Valley, that I would go and visit one of them. I perked right up at this thought, and sent out an APB to every one of them….each of whom shot me straight down for various reasons. Some semi-legit (I have pneumonia), some straight up ridiculous, (I’m fat, you wouldn’t like me). I tried to mask my desperation with accommodating enthusiasm, but was met with either silence, or stiffer resistance…overall point being that none of these people actually had any desire to meet me. Not only did this (surprisingly) hurt my feelings, but it also robbed me of any worthwhile goal with which to use to escape the shitty predicament I had gotten myself into. For that, I must advise anyone I requested a rendezvous with to kindly go fuck themselves. Nothing (im)personal. I really just gotta quit pretending that strangers I’ve never met before are my friends.

Half way through the trip I came down with a cold from one of the obnoxious relatives, and here I sit– unable to sleep due to being unable to breathe, and counting the hours until I can finally go home (42). Biggest waste of two weeks I have ever experienced.