Travels With Luca

(This blog is part travelogue, part advice on traveling with a dog, part discovery of what’s on the minds of Americans, Canadians and other nationalities, part commentary, and other musings.) Not in chronological order: Redwood kitsch: When I was a kid, I read a Disney book about Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck and Pluto taking a road trip across America. I was particularly captivated by the descriptions of roadside attractions in the redwoods of Northern California – and I vowed to travel that same road some day. And I have done, several times. Through Mendocino and Humboldt counties. But on this trip, I was determined to stop at one, at least, of those kitschy roadside attractions that take you into a 1950s time warp. (Wood sculpture outside Grandfather Tree gift shop with said tree in the background.) So Luca and I took a break at the WORLD FAMOUS GRANDFATHER TREE gift shop on the east side of Highway 101. The shop was closed, but the gro

(This blog is part travelogue, part advice on traveling with a dog, part discovery of what’s on the minds of Americans, Canadians and other nationalities, part commentary, and other musings.) Dan Boyle and I are seated on a sprawling deck of the redwood house he and boyfriend Jason Ross own in the middle of a beautiful redwood forest in Mendocino, a charming village of homes that looks like it’s plucked from the coast of Maine. (Luca is contentedly resting at my feet.) (Dan Boyle and me on his Mendocino home's wonderful redwood deck)  Just over a year ago, he and Jason moved from L.A. to this stunningly scenic area of dense forest and rugged coastline – and it was a radical change. (The Mendocino coast) “We’d been coming up here for the past 10 years, like twice a year, and we loved it,” Dan says. Nevertheless, he resisted the move, knowing he’d be giving up the excitement of the big city, from films at the Arclight to nightlife and gay bars.

(This blog is part travelogue, part advice on traveling with a dog, part discovery of what’s on the minds of Americans, Canadians and other nationalities, part commentary, and other musings.) ( Tip for campers/hikers with dogs: California state parks, as well as national parks, do not allow dogs on any of the hiking trails with a few exceptions. At Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park near Santa Cruz, dogs are allowed on a couple of trails. But a hiker on one of the trails warned me of a ranger who told her she would get a $300 ticket if she didn’t leash her dog.) We are camped in a lovely forest of old-growth oak trees at the edge of a stunning redwood forest in Henry CowellRedwoods State Park near Santa Cruz, a funky beach town south of San Francisco. It’s hot. In the 90s. In late September. A local on horseback says it happens sometimes, but I can’t help but wonder about climate change. (Oops, hope we know we're heading north, not south) Lu

(This blog is part travelogue, part advice on traveling with a dog, part discovery of what’s on the minds of Americans, Canadians and other nationalities, part commentary, and other musings.) Luca is the perfect boyfriend. To begin with, he adores me. Unconditionally. I can do no wrong. If I leave him for an hour, when I return home he greets me as if I’d been deployed to Afghanistan for a year. He never argues with me. He does whatever I ask of him (well, he can’t do dishes or give me a massage, but I’m sure he’d do both if he could). He doesn’t snore. He doesn’t take up my side of the bed when I sleep. In fact, he doesn’t sleep in my bed at all, though he’s right next to it.   He likes my music and doesn’t want me to change channels when I’m watching TV. He’s like a trophy husband without the baggage. Everywhere I go with this piece of eye candy, he attracts men and women, boys and girls equally. They fawn over him. He’s been called beautiful, go