More than a decade after blogging took off, I’ve decided now is the time for me to jump in the water. I’m late to the party as usual when it comes to popular culture, but until now I didn’t think I had anything to say. This blog might prove I actually don’t have anything to say, but at least I feel like I do and since I expect I’ll be essentially writing to myself, “What the hell!”, I’m blogging.
What’s behind the sudden urge to put in writing all my…umm…thoughts? dreams? rants?..whatever this is going to be? We bought a condo. Not just any condo. A second home. A second home in Palm Springs. Palm Springs, California, playground of Classic Hollywood and gay men!
My husband (henceforth known as “JD”) and I have lived in Atlanta for more than nine years. Our first four years together, I moved three times. In 2000 I moved from San Francisco to NYC to shack up with him, then together to Houston/Galveston for a job and finally to Atlanta when they saw fit to move us again. That was in 2004 and we've been here ever since.
As was typical, I worked at my corporate job through the holidays of 2012 and was pretty much alone in the office for two weeks while everybody else was taking their vacation in conjunction with their children’s holiday schedule. It’s my favorite time of year at work, the time when I purge everything from my desk that was filed away “just in case” and catch up on those projects I swore one day I’d get to.
Atlanta is nice, but I don’t want to live out my days here. This is my company’s mother-ship, though, and I didn’t see another job related move on the horizon but I did think I could see a light at the end of the Great Recession tunnel. With the reelection of Barack Obama I was feeling pretty optimistic that holiday season, so while eating a sandwich from the cafeteria’s limited holiday menu I surfed real estate porn. I was surprised how affordable a small Palm Springs condo seemed and it looked like it could be within our budget. Still eating, I called JD and said, “What do you think about getting a condo in Palm Springs?” (It was kind of a dumb question, since we’ve gone there in the spring of most years for a week-long vacation at one of many clothing-optional gay resorts.) The quest began.
I’ll skip all the details of learning about leased land (which is owned by the local Indian tribe), tripling the price range from where we started and flying out on short notice to look at a condo that wasn’t even listed yet during the Palm Springs wild fires of 2013. Short story…we got our condo! It’s a mid-century, one-level complex with 22 units surrounding a pool with a beautiful view of the mountains.
Although we still hold the lease on our apartment in NYC’s East Village, we share it with a roommate who is there the vast majority of the time. JD goes a few times a year for shows, to cultivate work and “make it rain”. The new condo is truly our get-away pad.
(Full disclosure…this will not be a blog about the lifestyles of the rich and famous homo’s. Our tiny NYC apartment doesn’t cost us anything, thanks to our sub-letters, and the combined cost of the Atlanta and Palm Springs homes is less than what many people pay for just one in a large metropolitan area like Atlanta.)
We’ve only had the condo for five months, so how much time we get to spend there is yet to be seen. JD has a more flexible schedule than I, so I bet he won’t be able to stay away too long. For now, most of our time is spent in Atlanta in an up-and-coming neighborhood that still has enough elements of the hood to make it interesting. The gas station next door makes getting a bag of ice and the New York Times convenient. The view from our front stoop looks down on a busy four lane road where traffic backs up in front of our house and affords us a view inside the cars of rush hour drivers stopped at the light. Peering inside the sedans, SUV’s and eighteen wheelers provides for hours of conversation during our summer post-workday happy hours. The deck on the back of the house looks up the length of our back yard to a stand of trees at the end of the property that provides us complete privacy…the polar opposite of the house’s front.