It was Christmas time 1992.
My wife and I had left all we knew on the East Coast for this new city called San Diego. All of the black law professors in town were graduates of either Harvard Law School (4) or Yale Law School (1), with one exception. I was the only one married to a black spouse. I had been married for one year and found myself in this magical land of palm trees, beaches and ocean views. In a spirit of adventure, I convinced my wife we should spend Christmas week in Palm Springs. I only knew of Palm Springs from television as a mystical place comparable to Beverly Hills or Malibu. My wife was down for adventure.
I remember we got a late start from our apartment in La Mesa.
It was night time as we drove through the mountains. The roads were winding and treacherous. I felt every bend and turn in the darkness. I was excited and anxious and filled with anticipation. We played Luther Vandross on the radio. (Years later, I would make it a habit to play This is Christmas as I approached Palm Springs on holiday.)
And then as Luther sang away my fears and worries, the mountains opened up a vista before our virgin eyes. We looked below and saw a desert floor flooded with holiday lights and the feel of Palm Springs in Christmas time welcomed us for the first time. I felt joy and comfort as we descended into this desert town known for celebrity and heat and campy style. Liberace, Doris Day, Cher, Sonny Bono, Frank Sinatra, Gerald Ford, John H. Johnson of Ebony and Jet fame — all lent their time on earth to this desert place. The main drag was aligned with endless Christmas lights as far as the eye could see.
It was magical and I felt gratitude that destiny had thrown me into the world and landed me in this place around Christmas Day.
We checked into the Gene Autry Hotel. Why the Gene Autry Hotel? I associated Gene Autry with Christmas: “In addition to his signature song "Back in the Saddle Again", as well as his recording hit "At Mail Call Today", Autry is still remembered for his association with Christmas music, having debuted the seasonal standards "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer", "Frosty the Snowman", and "Here Comes Santa Claus".”
I fell in love with Palm Springs. When we woke up in the morning, we were surrounded by palm trees. I could see people sunbathing at the pool. As I looked up, I saw snow atop the local mountains. The juxtaposition of sunbathing in 72 degree weather and snow above me in the distance just did me in. The walls of the hotel were heavenly white. We were in our 20s. Everyone else was retired and elderly. It was a marvelous feeling. A cook came out from the kitchen and talked with us at dinner. Why? He was overjoyed to be around young people for once at the hotel. See Passage on the Lady Anne for a feel of our stay at the Gene Autry hotel.
I tried to recapture that magical first Christmas in Palm Springs for my children. Every year with few exceptions, we would vacation as a family in Palm Springs. We would hike through the springs, explore the Native American trading post, romp around at the top of the Palm Springs Aerial Tram, stroll along the main street in town, and savor desserts at Manhattan in the Desert. My kids learned to appreciate the Living Desert Museum, the ice cream shops, the snow at the top of the tram, and the resort swimming pool. Just great family memories.
And this lead brings me to the Palm Springs Arts Museum.
There is a controversy in the land. Should a 26-foot statute of Marilyn Monroe grace the entryway to the museum? I know the museum well. We have visited the place several times during our holiday trips to Palm Springs. Palm Springs has always struck me as a campy kind of place which I appreciated coming from a more staid Virginia. Palm Springs is a welcoming place for gay and lesbian people. Doris Day was prominent in the past for her activism with HIV/Aids awareness and Liberace was presumably gay.
It does not surprise me that Palm Springs is around 50% gay and lesbian. Nor does it matter to me that all of the City Council members are gay, lesbian and/or bi-sexual.
It does interest me that the controversy over Marilyn Monroe’s statute has generated such heart in my beloved desert city of peace and contentment. I associate Palm Springs with the arts. I hope to visit the arts museum maybe this holiday season and see Marilyn in person. However, there are those who feel the statute is in bad taste, not appropriate for gracing the entryway to the arts museum. Hmmn. And then there is the argument that Marilyn is embraced and appreciated by gay and lesbian people. Double hmmn.
Admittedly, there was some serious gender bending in Some Like It Hot filmed on Coronado island. Would Marilyn applaud her larger than life likeness welcoming the public to the arts museum? I kind of think so but what do you all think?
It is so irrelevant to this essay but, in this crazy world we live in, I duly acknowledge Palm Springs is 4% black. Good evening.
One could make an argument that art (such as Marilyn Monroe statue) leaves a more lasting impression than ice cream, but that the ice cream evokes greater sentiment since your family was there with you while you were titillating your taste buds.