Ace Hotel & Swim Club: Awesome Hipster-ness

Before going on this journey with me, I ask you to choose some “House Music” for your background.
Now, pour yourself a ridiculously neon-colored beverage.
Next, slip into a tube top, mini skirt and flip flops.
Slather on some sunscreen for the aromatic effect.
Grab your Coach suitcases, Dior sunglasses and pull the Bentley out of the garage to set the mood.
 

Now that we’ve gathered everything, we are ready to enter the Ace Hotel and Swim Club hipster hotel in Palm Springs, CA.

 

It’s pretty unimpressive when you first pull up. It’s just a 60’s hotel that’s been redone.

 

But apparently, it’s so popular it requires those annoying bracelets that you usually get at a concert-the ones that you have to cut off with a machete-to be worn if you want to enter the premises. No bracelet-no hangy outy.

 

The grounds are rather expansive-with fire pits, outdoor lounge areas and walking paths.

 

It also has a pool that pumps even louder House Music. And it has beautiful people walking around with a laissez faire attitude.

 

They have nothing better to do than wear aviators, short shorts and drink out of plastic cups. Unless, of course, they need to go to town for some essentials-and then they can rent these super cute scooters.

 

Or, if they are over the legal limit, they can settle for a bike.
I settled for my room, a glass of wine and a cotton robe left for us as “an amenity” in the closet. Another amenity was a bucket of beer they delivered to our room.
I suppose it’s not so bad here at the Ace Hotel. Even if I can’t get the gosh darn bracelet off.

What a mess! Atlanta Hotels are weird….

Touring for years with my hubby musician, I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff. I’ve also had a hand in making some weird stuff happen to the bands we are on tour with. But, that’s a whole other story.

Let me give you a few fine examples:
1. A Cockroach-the size of a coin purse-flying out of a shower head and onto me at a not so fine hotel.
2. A gigantic plastic cow on a flatbed trailer being hauled by a convertible Dodge Dart.
3. A person that no one knew showed up in our bus, plopped down on the couch, and proceeded to drink our tequila. It wasn’t until I began asking around that we all realized the man was a stranger-a sneaky tequila drinking stranger.
4. A church steeple drove by our window as we sat in a Dairy Queen. Not kidding.
5. An RV burned to the ground on the side of the highway.

That’s enough for now. I’m sure I can rustle up a few more, but we’ll save those for later.

So, here’s a look at one of the weird things that I have witnessed at a hotel in Atlanta, Ga. This was underneath the nightstand that sat in between the two queen beds.

Why? Why was this necessary? How many things could possibly be plugged in to make such a gigantic mess?

 

Up close, you realize the insanity of the situation. I tried to undo the bunch of wires, hoping to bring organization to my life and peace to my frazzled mind.
However, it was thoughtfully zip-tied together.
Biceps stopped me before grabbing my fingernail clippers to cut through the plastic zip-tie.
And he reminded me that we were only there for a night. And to go to sleep.

The Hollywood Elite from the Golden Age

It might be obvious that I love a vintage era. An era with high heels, Grandma’s aprons, canning, making pies from scratch, listening to Getz/Gilberto and movies that were decent enough you could watch with the whole family. An era where men were men and ladies were ladies.

All of that said, dear readers, you would then surmise that the Golden Age of Hollywood would be classified as one of my favorites. The age where ladies wore gloves, men wore ties and when everyone could sing and dance.

Therefore, I was more than excited to once again be in Los Angeles for several days and stay at The Sportsmen’s Lodge on this last tour. (I am not getting kick-backs from this hotel…I wish I did, however…) This lodge used to sit outside of L.A., but urban sprawl has taken over and it’s now within city limits.

 

The Sportsmen’s Lodge is overtly famous for housing the Hollywood Elite-the likes of Audrey Hepburn, Frank Sinatra, and Donna Reed-were said to leave the hustle and bustle of Hollywood to hole up here.

 

According to hotel staff, Carey Grant dipped in this very pool on several occasions. I don’t care if it’s a true story or not…that is what happened.

 

The lobby and lounge were what I like to call, “swanked-out”. Meaning, really swanky.

 

In bygone times, acres of forest surrounded the hotel-allowing seclusion for the stars from their adoring fans. Now, a Starbucks is right across the street, along with a large grocery store.
I ain’t complainin’ about the Starbucks, let me tell you.

I would have loved to see the hotel in its hey-day. I know just what dress I would have worn if I was sharing a lobby with Marilyn or Bing. And, I have matching gloves that never get any action and would go perfectly with my dress.
Let me be honest-the rooms were nothing to speak of-decent, but not a Ritz Carlton by any means.
But, if you ever want to connect with “what was” and you happen to be in the City of Angels, I recommend stopping off at the Sportsmen’s Lodge.
Say “hi” to Carey’s spirit for me.

Spooky Ghost Hotel for your Anniversary?…

…no thank you. At least, not again.

Ten years ago, Biceps and I stayed here-at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. We had no idea that the hotel had a major calling card and it was a spooky one.
They claimed their hotel was “haunted”.
By ghosts.
Romantic, huh?
 

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
We were in the dark about all of this ghost nonsense. To us, it appeared whimsical in its brochures-may I remind you this was before the whole “internet thing” really took off.
I liked the historical aspect of the hotel and Biceps liked it because it was close to home which would help save on the gas expense.

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
Typically, I would never even speak of this hotel, mainly because I am a major wuss. But I was reminded of our “romantic get-away” recently when someone mentioned they had enjoyed the hotel spa. The hair on the back of my head, my arms, and both of my eyebrows stood up. This was not an attractive moment for me.

 

Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/keithaustell/
Sure, I can handle a chop saw, talk drywall installation, drive a 45′ entertainer coach for stinky bands, and install hardwood floors. But stay in a supposedly haunted hotel? No way. It’s not that I believe in ghosts in the way that they are portrayed in movies. I do believe there are icky spirits, waiting to scare the crap out of me if I allow it. And I do get the heebie-jeebies when spooky things are supposedly present.

 

Source: www.spaindex.com
I attribute my heebie’s and my jeebie’s to my sensitive spirit, my delicate nature, my innate wussiness.

 

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
If I remembered correctly-this was our room. Of course, Biceps went right to sleep, snoring occasionally.
I, on the other hand, did not sleep a wink. My heart literally could be heard outside of my body. My palms were very sweaty. I lay there saying over and over, “God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of love, of power and of sound mind.”
I’d like to say that I am more mature than all of this, but it’s an area that I’m still working on. Shoot, the movie “Chucky, Child’s Play” still freaks me out to this day. I am so far from perfect…
So, for now, I will avoid these spooky situations and drink a glass of warm milk if need be.