It's dawn at Starbucks on Palm Canyon and I'm sitting with Larry, Darren, Tim et al, and working out the day's shooting schedule when I see them out of the corner of my eye.
A sixtyish couple: she, tall and thin, very elegant looking in linen slacks, plain silk blouse and a discreet pearl choker. He is about five foot four, two hundred and seventy pounds plus, wearing a muscle style T shirt and the loudest Hawaiian shorts I have ever seen.
How do people as different as them even know each other, I think? What brought them together in the first place? Was he a silver-tongued smooth talker, while she was painfully shy? Is that too obvious and simplistic? Probably.
I'm engrossed in them, projecting all kinds of scenarios about their initial meeting. "What do you think?" Huh? "Are you even listening? What do you think?" About what? "We're were thinking of not working today and just goofing off." Very funny guys, I'm not in that much of a fog, let's go.
As we stood up and left, I realized that I actually was in that much of a fog so I went inside and ordered another coffee to go. As we walked up the street, past the T shirt shops and for lease signs that are so familiar on this section of Palm Canyon, I couldn't help but wonder what Palm Springs is all about. I certainly don't get it. It's okay, but no big deal in my mind - unlike Beverly Hills where we had just left after a couple of days and I think is one of the most mindless places I've ever been.
Back in my room, packed for the day and looking out from my balcony, I took this shot. It will always remind me of my mystery couple.
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