This past weekend taught me a lot about life. Sports and UCLA permeate my existence to a sickening degree.
I spent the weekend in the High Desert for the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival and stayed at my grandparents’ lovely home in Palm Springs.
For years I have enjoyed lounging around in their bungalow in the Los Cocos residential community. I cherish it as a lovely getaway where, since a young boy of three, I have escaped to in order to leave the troubles of city life behind. You could call it my “safe house.”
The house was decorated in 1976 by the interior decorator Arlene Genis – and it looks and feels like 1976. In fact, the house looks and feels like UCLA, as my grandparents had it decorated primarily in blue and gold. This means gold shag carpeting and a blue and gold ottoman. Anything that isn’t blue or gold is mirrored, for that perfect ’70s look. Credit Genis on the incredibly cohesive design.
My parents, UCLA alumni, spent many weekends at Los Cocos in the infancy of their marriage. I have often heard stories from them and their friends about the fun times that were had, and naturally wondered whether any UCLA-associated recreation took place.
Specifically, I wondered whether when they dropped acid, the blue and gold motif of the house’s decor invoked any Bruin-related hallucinations.
“No,” my father said.
I also wondered whether visiting the house these days elicits flashbacks to psychedelic visions of Bill Walton’s equally mindblowing 21-for-22 shooting performance in UCLA’s 1973 NCAA championship victory over Memphis State.
“No, not the case,” my father said.
My grandparents were at the Kentucky Derby as this column went to print and could not be reached for comment.
Back in Palm Springs, for the first time in months, I was sure to take in everything the desert has to offer (read: the pool).
Lying poolside with Nietzsche in hand, I soon realized that the famed philosopher couldn’t provide me with intellectual fulfillment on par with the film my cohorts and I had rented for the weekend.
The 2002 terrorist drama/extreme sports film “Extreme Ops” effortlessly blended the drama of extreme sports – something I obviously love – with the politically amorphous issue of terrorism at a ski resort. We watched it several times.
There is something to be said for extreme sports. They are so hot right now. As is wiping out terrorism. How timely. However, the most athletically stimulating event of the weekend came during a unique dining experience.
While enjoying an Italian dinner at a lovely restaurant called Prego, our group overheard an obnoxious USC alum at an adjacent table, who was angrily telling his disinterested date about an early 1970s UCLA-USC basketball game in which the Trojans almost knocked off the Bruins.
We were enjoying a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio, and weren’t about to let the toupee-clad gentleman spoil our meal. So, encouraged by the wine in our stomachs, we serenaded the restaurant with an 8-clap. The maitre d’ cheered us on.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to remember this, and other UCLA/Los Cocos memories, unlike my forebearers.
The official slogan of Palm Springs is: “P.S., I love you.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Daniel says bookish is the new hip. E-mail Miller at dmiller@media.ucla.edu.