01.13.11 – Melrose & Vine

So we’ve been out in LA for a few days now and this time we tried something different with our accommodations.  Rather than three nights of expensive hotel rooms that have fake-log fireplaces with a switch-on gas flame, we tried a more economical VRBO (Vacation Rental By Owner) that have fake-log fireplaces with a switch-on gas flame.

The place looked good from the Craig’s List photos.  Four bedrooms for four band members.  Stainless steel kitchen appliances and a fancy piano.  Bearskin rugs in the bathrooms.  The right price.  Why not.

But there were strange things going on in this VRBO when we showed up.  To quote one of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s many smash hits: “ooh ooh that smell, can you smell that smell?” — the lingering, constant aroma of old people.  Dead people?  Perhaps.  I can smell dead people.

Who’ve been peed on by cats.

After one night at our place Adam’s backpack was full of ants, and he found some on his jacket and in his arm hairs.  This is likely because Adam had a muffin or a banana peel rotting in the bottom of his bag, but let’s just get into the spirit of this road journal and blame it on the ant-ridden VRBO.  And the televisions.  So many televisions.  Sometimes two to a room, old, new, all suspended from the ceiling in awkward crates, custom created for this house before flat screens were invented.

The TV in my room was white, and the walls and ceilings were white and this morning I discovered a little remote attached to my awkwardly sloped bed that helped explain everything.  I’d been sleeping in a Craftmatic Adjustable Bed…. I’m not in a vacation rental, I’m in a hospital.

Bonus Pet Peeve:  Airport toilets where instead of a germ-ridden flush handle, there’s a motion sensor that flushes the toilet when you stand up.  And when you lean to the side to reach for the toilet paper.  And when you grab your cell phone out of your pocket to check your email while you’re crapping.  It’s kind of a cool little spritz down there mid-game that’s refreshing if you don’t think about what you’re getting spritzed with.  I think I’d rather just flush the handle with my sneaker like I used to.

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