I'd arrived at Ed's house, where John-Paul and I were staying, fairly late on Thursday evening. Driving in, I'd been aware of a huge mountain looming over me in the darkness. Nonetheless, it was a surprise in the morning to step outside into the early cool air and see the view from Ed's back yard, where the tip of the mountain poked through the clouds.

The View from Ed's Back Yard

John-Paul is my oldest friend in California. I met him the year I moved to San Francisco, and we've been close friends ever since, even though he now lives in West Hollywood. He and Ed have been friends for many years too, and I've met him several times before, when he used to live in West Hollywood. Now he's retired to Palm Springs, and he seems a lot happier. He has an ancient dalmation named Suki, who is deaf and arthritic. The poor thing hobbles around, almost dragging its hind legs behind it. Unlike most elderly dogs, it's still an outgoing, affectionate creature, and it's touching the way it staggers over to you, and follows you around, anxious for some attention.

We spent Friday morning hanging out, and getting reacquainted before heading into downtown for some breakfast, and to swing by party central, the Wyndham Hotel, to pick up information, and for me to get my White Party ticket. I'd decided at the last moment that I would go to the main even on Saturday after all, even though John-Paul didn't want to go. There were already beautiful men strutting around in bathing suits around the pool at the Wyndham, and something about the calculating, carefully posed indifference of many of them reminded me why I'd always been so opposed to circuit-party culture in the past. I still don't like to see men be so wrapped up in their own supposed beauty that they close themselves off from eye-contact with everybody - it seems such a waste. But I know now, for myself, that not everybody here is like that, and that you can still have a fun, engaging time if you open yourself up to it. Nonetheless, I can't help my judgement faculties being engaged too.

In the afternoon, John-Paul and I drove to Joshua Tree National Park, which is about 70 miles East of Palm Springs. This photo was my first sight of the vastness of the landscape.

Tiny John-Paul lost in a boulder park

The landscape is so varied as you drive through the park. It's almost a spiritual experience - the Biblical scale of the valleys and plains, the constant wind whistling down the mountains, the distant horizon populated by scudding fleecy clouds which pass black shadows over the desert.

Chulla Cactuses in front of another eternal plain

Joshua Trees

Another boulder park near Skull Rock

Today had been one of those days when you feel the pleasure of good companions, and the excitement of a new environment. A bubbly day for me. In the evening, John-Paul and I took Ed out for a wonderful meal at a place called Johannes, down town. We finished eating pretty late, and neither Ed nor I were up for calling it a day just yet, so we dropped John-Paul off at home, and drove over to the Wyndham, figuring we'd have a drink at the hotel bar. When we got there, the lobby was almost deserted. We ran into a friend of Ed's, Albert, and the three of us just parked ourselves with drinks on a sofa in the lobby. Guys trickled in, either checking into the hotel, or returning from the afternoon's party "Splash" at the water park. So many goodlooking men in tank-tops and sleevless t-shirts, many stalking through self-importantly, others cutting a more comfortable, less self-aware path. It was fun just to sit there chatting, recognizing (though not acknowledging) guys I know from my gym, and watching it all stream past.