Tuesday, October 21, 2008

The Lost Angels

In between the ramparts of ancient far flung destinations, tropical islands, snow capped mountain peaks, meandering river systems, distant fields of glory, hillsides of epic vineyards, coastal extravaganzas, and the intrepid comfort of the run of the mill 5 star hotel, the Devil Dog retreats to the sunny climes of Los angeles, suburban Sherman Oaks to be exact, where he plods through his day surrounded by The Compound, the eminent domain that doubles as sanctuary, reflective conclave, and where he can retreat to that most exclusive of LA haunts, The Garden Bar, a club so exclusive the Devil Dog cannot even reveal where it is, except to say that not even Lindsay Lohen or Paris Hilton can get in, where fountains gurgle in the quiet evening stillness and a gentle rock garden leads the way to the outdoor platform bed beneath a canopy of trees.

Rest is a luxury, and as we know, there is no rest for the wicked or the weary, and being neither, we kick up our heals, indulge ouselves, and put our legs up in comfort, sipping a fine Sonoma Pinot Noir, and enjoying the wonder of  non-thinking until we saddle up for our next adventure....in Hawaii.

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