RICK CASTRO: DIARY-4/12/2020

So This Is How The World Will End: by Rick Castro 4/12/2020

I was depressed today, everyone cancelled on me, everyone who promised they would help flaked out. When I get hopeless like this, the best thing to do is go for a drive. I needed to make a grocery run anyway. Three weeks is a long time. I still have dry goods, but was running desperately low on produce. Because of the debacle in going to Hesperia, 

I decided to go the opposite way, so headed west on Pearblossom Hwy to a small town called Littlerock, (pop 1,300) known for its peanut brittle, and deep fried everything emporium, Charlie Brown Farms. I didn’t go there, too touristy, but did go to the Farmers Mart. They had everything I could wish for, apples, zucchini, coconut flour, Roma tomatoes, Brazilian nuts, home made chips, and Drano! Yes I’ve clogged Bee’s sink… 

Since I was in the area, I then drove to Palmdale, which I don’t recommend. Palmdale makes Hesperia look like Beverly Hills. That is one bleak, generic city. Let’s put it this way, if you like parolees and Meth, you’ll love Palmdale. As long as I was there, I figured I would do something grim. Have you heard about Gabriel Fernandez? He was the little boy who was murdered by his parents because they thought he was gay….. 

He was eight years old. It’s a very tragic depressing story, I wrote about it when it first happened- HERE- recently there was a doco about it on Netflix. His murder really affected me, as it did many of my GLBTQ friends. If Al & Bee were monsters that could’ve been me. 

I had read there was a mural painting as dedication so I wanted to see it in person. I have to tell you, I am very good at research and finding obscurities, but I could not find this fuckin mural to save my life.. I went up and down every street where it was supposed to be. I was even on the block where Gabriel met his horrific demise. The harder I tried, the more it eluded me. At one point I was almost sideswiped by a little red Mazda! The idea of me being in a hospital in Palmdale brought chills to my bones. The omens were telling me to give it up, and get out, so I did. 

I decided to visit something more cheery. . I drove to the neighboring city of Lancaster. 

I must say not much better than Palmdale, but were talking low bar all around…. What Lancaster does have are poppy fields! 
Yes, just like in the Wizard of Oz. The poppy is the state flower, and Lancaster harbors the most consistent bloom of poppies in California. I’m driving down HWY14, getting off at exit 44 as the map says, but then I’m lost… we’re talking a desolate area. The only thing around here is a prison. Prisons & Poppies. Suddenly in front of me is a cavalcade of bikers! Not a bunch of old hogs with prostate problems, no sireee, this group are lesbians… Dikes on Bikes! Guess where they were going? To the poppy fields!… So I followed them. Since the plague shut down everything in life, the poppy fields are also in quarantine, with a huge highway sign flashing POPPY RESERVE CLOSED.  The Dikes on Bikes make a U-turn getting back on HWY14. I wasn’t giving up so easy and kept going. As I got close to the reserve there indeed where rangers with masks blocking the entrance. This didn’t stop hordes of tourists from stomping on the poppies, taking photos with their baby’s and dogs, (unleashed) and sitting on the fuckin poppies to have a dumb picnic!… Where’s the Bad Witch of the West when you need her to put all these dullards to sleep? To get away, I took a left on an unassuming dirt road and found myself in self-isolation wonderland.

Now that I was in a good mood again, I thought I’d continue my adventure as I headed back. I had to past through the city of Lancaster so thought I would see if I could find the childhood home of a gay legend… Yes you heard me right… so I’m on my hunt… on the way look what I found! whatthefuckisthat? It looks like it used to be a doctors office, now outta business. I guess Dr. Seuss isn’t popular in methland. He’s more acidville. 

Here I am, closing in on my destination.. I’m now driving down an unassuming residential street in the middle of old Lancaster and… there it is! Guess who’s childhood home this is? Guess!…Think poppy fields…. give up? It's the home of the Gumm family, and little Francis Gumm, also known as JUDY GARLAND! As the rumor goes, daddy Gumm was having sex with young local boys one time too many, and was run outta Grand Rapids, Minn, so he moved his family to Lancaster, California and opened a theater. The rest is the history of how gay was created.

My last stop is California Historical Landmark #933.  

As a teenager I rode my 1970 Yamaha here many times, not knowing what it was. I just liked the look of the ruins and found it peaceful. A few years ago I was surfing online for obscurities and found an image that I recognized. The ruins of Llano del Rio Collective. The history; Job Harriman was a natural leader. In 1900 he was the Vice Presidential candidate for the socialist party, (which lost to McKinleye) then ran for mayor of Los Angeles, twice, also lost, so hightailed it up to Pearblossom HWY, purchasing 9000 acres of land that became known as Llano. His dream was to start a socialist colony here, close to where is now Bee’s cabin! As you can imagine the community failed. I mean look at poor Bernie. Amerikkkans simply don’t understand socialism. All that remains of this once socialist utopia that drew the likes of writer Aldous Huxley no less, are these haunting stone pillars. It was my fave place to chill and smoke a doobie… Hay, that gives me an idea!

So this is how the world will end.

copyright-rick castro- 4/2020

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