Tooleing Around: Day 26

The best part of staying in the Coos, was leaving it.

Slept like a child, though the bathroom had a vent sounded like a 747 landing.

I liked So It Goes, for breakfast, named for a Slaughterhouse Five quote and using a Clockwork Orange theme for its logo, housing an eclectic mix of movie books, novels and local band posters. Decent cheddar scone and cappuccino and lots of local foot traffic. As always, my Escape from New York Tee was admired by an enormous bearded biker lad. That t-shirt is #1 for comments, picturing Snake Plisken with a Twin Towers backdrop . Purchased at a concert by the man himself, oddball Director John Carpenter, who composes his own scores.

That may be my cultural reference record for one paragraph.

John, the big biker dude, is the owner and gave me some advise for the road south and a souvenir pin from the coffee shop. I’m reverting my cranky negativity on the town, lovely people.

I did finish Ranger Games on Audio Book. It was an intriguing study of masculinity, duty and soldering against the backdrop of the Rangers bank robbery. The central question being why the perfect all American kid would get dragged in. I’d recommend it, though  had some quibbles .

I stopped in Bandon, as I’d read it was named by an Irishman after his home across the Atlantic. Cathy gave me a little history. The town was destroyed by fire in 1936, their museums current home was built in 1937 and housed thd fire stations , a bar, town hall , at various stages ,and now the museum. A lot of other towns burnt that very dry year too . Four died in the fire, more later from after effects from smoke inhalation. One child was born in town in the night. Cathy is a lifelong resident and active member of the historical society,

Seems I’m here for cranberry picking season. There was a creepy scabby bald eagle stuffed in 1912 in the Museum , not quite sure how it snuck in as an exhibit . Looked like Norman Bates work.

Hit Patades latest podcast, The Nights on Broadway edition , was one of the best to date in an excellent monthly series. Each episode takes an event in the music charts and wraps  it in history and cross connections and a healthy dollop of fan boy trivia. The research is extensive and each episode is made to the duration it should be, todays 90 minutes.

This episode centered on The Bee Gees and what the Slate writer and presenter terms their Empirical period, that moment  in an artists career they cannot put a foot wrong. Saturday Night Fever days! Don’t be dissuaded if it’s an artist you’ve no interest in, they are all excellently written and interesting.

And if you have not watched Saturday Night Fever, recently or ever, go to it. It gets better and better with age . Not many can claim a legacy like The Bee Gees. I cynically went and saw them in London’s Wembley Atena in the 1980s , they were white suited and fabulous.

The pacific coast road is indeed magnificent with lots of spots to pull over and take in the courtly rockscapes, cliffs and beaches. It had turned into a miserable Irish day so I stopped in Billings Harbor for coffee and gas. And a cranberry muffin . When in cranberry picking season…

I got a nice warm welcome at the way station from the agricultural lady, checking me fruit and veg, as I crossed the border . Why is California the only state that cares what you are carrying?

I had to stop for the odd museum boat. It looks like the misplaced ship in Close Encounters (extended version only). It was closed – Closed Encounter?

I got to Redwood National Park late, so I just drove through.  Bad accident on the other side of the road, through the winding woods, the smoking car was being hauled from the trees as I passed, an ambulance , sirens ablaze , was leaving the scene.

As my Granny would say, “No day you find a giant bull is a wasted day”. I was so pleased , having skipped Fargo and Bunyan lookey here!

The two friendly Canuck ladies, taking photos of one another fondling the big blue bull balls, were nice enough to take a couple of shots for me. I offered to return the favor and photograph both of them tag team tinys testicles, but they reacted like I was some kind of bovine perv.

Of course I took a Scrote-tickling selfie.