Last night Scuba cooked me supper and took me out to a nightclub to see the incredible Dick Dale. There were two opening bands, both on the surf punk side of things. The first one was Beachkrieg. They wear German WWI outfits, play punk surf polka, and tell mean jokes about French people. Nuff said, right? Can’t wait to see them again, and luckily they’re local. Next was Fascinating Creatures of the Deep, who I also loved.
Dick Dale was, well, Dick Dale. Swoon.
Today we headed over the hill and down the coast to Pacific Grove. Toward the end of last week, Scuba started looking around for someplace inexpensive for us to stay this weekend, and found an online deal at a bitchen Victorian bed & breakfast. We sat on the beach in the sun until check in time. I read and watched other people’s kids play in the water while Scuba practiced his ukulele. Monterey in January is sometimes perfect like today – bright blue skies and nearly 70 degrees. We are so lucky and spoiled.
After the sun went over the hill it got a little cold, so we checked in to the b&b. The owner offered us an upgrade to a less cramped room. Your room is in the attic, he said, and the ceiling is sloped. It’s tiny. It sounded perfect to me. Luckily we didn’t switch; the minute we stepped through the door we both felt like we could live here.
Downstairs there was wine and a video library, so we are relaxing and watching The Magnificent Seven on VHS. Honestly, I can’t imagine a better way to spend a Saturday night.
Tomorrow we might rent bikes or surf or go to Big Sur. But right now I need to go watch Yul Brenner, Charles Bronson, and Steve McQueen.