Archive for July 1st, 2008

San Diego or Logan’s Run with Sun

Tuesday, July 1st, 2008

Remember “Logan’s Run” – the 1976 movie with the premise that a 23rd Century society controlled its population by eliminating every person when he or she turned 30? Don’t tell anyone -but it just wasn’t a movie – they quietly do it now in San Diego, California and import people over 75 to pay the taxes.

Sitting in front of the Hard Rock Hotel on a Sunday afternoon was so perfect, it was scary. I tried to remember how I died and why I got to Heaven. Sun? Mandatory. 76º? God permanently set the thermostat. A gentle ocean breeze? Always. Beautiful women? Oh my. . .

The new young, chic-chick style is long, long tanned legs, 5-inch ‘come-do-me’ heels, and ‘miniscule’ (shorter than micro-mini) skirts with or without panties – and yes – you can tell. Strippers wear more at the end of their shows! Incredible.

And thin? I have a model friend, an ex-heroin addict, who is so skinny – biology classes could use her instead of skeletons to identify human bones. If she lived in San Diego, she’d have to go to Jenny Craig. And she’s also 24 which is kind of old to the young of this city. When these women go to the beach, they must bring pails and shovels to play. Fortunately, they like middle-age men. Unfortunately, to them, middle age is about 23.

Well, I’m not the type to sit around and ogle young women – I’m not a voyeur. So I walked back into the hotel and took an elevator to my suite. Apparently you can get bench sores after about 2 hours of sitting. Who knew?


Rock Hotel Rocks

Tuesday, July 1st, 2008

If God took a vacation in Southern California, He’d stay at the San Diego Hard Rock Hotel. The place is futuristic, chic beyond belief, fun, loud, and, in some places, burst-out-laughing tacky. In other words, Rock and Roll Heaven!

My client was cool enough to book me a small suite and I loved the place as soon as I walked through the lobby filled with loud rock music and a subtle sixties light show. The staff was friendly, funny, and giggled out loud when they had to say “How may we rock your world?” It was like kids playing ‘hotel’ but somehow it all worked. And young? Each of the staff had to be born 20 years after the Beatles broke up – retirement age looked to be about 28.

My suite featured two huge TV’s which hung on the wall of each room, a large, walk-around shower, a great stereo system with a free disc, bold colors, and a pricey, mind-blowing mini-bar. Why was it mind-blowing?

The star of the drink show was B0NG vodka, a large bottle of which invitingly sat on the counter. The room service guy kindly pointed out that when the bottle was done, the medallion on the bottom could be pulled out to make (are you ready?) a Bong. Price? $150.00. Yikes!

Oh yeh, the prices. In every hotel, my first ritual is to order a room-service cheeseburger. Hard Rock Hotels’ cheeseburgers are among the best I’ve ever eaten anywhere – and they should be. With fries and a Pepsi and a delivery charge ($4.00), sales tax (8%), hotel tax (17%), and tip ($5) . . . the burger cost $31.20.

The Hard Rock Hotel isn’t cheap – but it’s an adventure and fun and funny and sometimes tacky. Tacky? Large sign on the snacks: EAT ME.

Ah, rock my world!