Santa Barbara, 1979

Maybe I’m more of a California girl than I realize. No, I don’t have the surfer-girl looks (created by admen in the mid 60s) but I truly love the Pacific Ocean and the beach and I would go there right now if I could.

There’s just friggin miles of it and it’s all good. Santa Barbara was spectacular.

Woolworth’s photo booth picture, Santa Barbara, 1979.Frank and I had gone to Santa Barbara after it got old living at the Golden Eagle Hotel on Broadway in San Francisco. And believe me it got old real fast. Not that it was a bad place. It had it’s charm and it’s share of punks going in and out. It was across the street from the Mabuhay.

No, I think it got rancid the day the sex-show girl showed up at the door naked.  This tart ingenuosly asked Frank, who had answered the door, if he had an extra towel. Cute, huh? By the way, Frank just read this and told me I showed a remarkable amount of restraint when describing her as an “ingenuous tart”.

This picture of the Golden Eagle is fairly recent and comes from a blog called City Notes.

I don’t care if people are naked. It’s what this chick thought she might get up to while naked, with my boyfriend, that I didn’t like. Though Frank is a very loyal, good man, he’s only human and I couldn’t handle that kind of competition.

We moved to Santa Barbara at the end of 1978. Initially we stayed in the place I had moved out of when I left my boyfriend George (not loyal, but still, a good man) for a new life San Francisco.

We then got a room at the Schooner Inn, a residential hotel on State Street only a few blocks from the beautiful beach. It was cheap living and comfortable. Frank and I could get to know one another away from the distractions of the intense, ahem, social and recreational demands of San Francisco.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Santa Barbara we’d had nothing but fun in the sun and pleasure. We walked the beaches and hung out in Mexican restaurants. We had our little honeymoon period.

 

 

Sunset on the beach was always beautiful.

In those months we spent in Santa Barbara we got to hang out with Patti and Susan’s Santa Maria friend, the brilliant and warm Doug Nunes, and his sweet friend Joe Gordon.

This picture of Frank and Joe Gordon was taken at the swap meet at the Santa Barbara drive-in. Their snack bar served beer as I recall. Could that be possible? Maybe we brought our own and put it in drive-in cups.

There was a very cool bunch of sibblings from Davenport, Iowa. I’ve always wanted to meet their parents to see how these groovers managed to grow into such positive, happy people. Nancy, Margaret and William Wells, or as he was known by everyone, “315,”  were really bright, bubbly and creative. They all had a great sense of humor and they knew how to have fun in any situation. Maybe it was the beer. We seemed to drink a lot of beer.

Even though the Schooner Inn was clean and calm and peopled by a good crowd we eventually found our own little place. Our Love Shack was a room above a couple of shops in an old brick building near State Street and Pacific Coast Highway.

The room was filled with light in the day, as you can see. We had this one room plus a little kitchen and bathroom. At the Golden Eagle the toilets and showers were down the hall and there were those pesky naked chicks.

Okay, so I’m a wimp, which I prefer to spell whimp. I wanted peace and quiet and privacy with this dreamy dish. Can you blame me?

You can see a calender from Creem magazine on the door to the walk-in closet. That closet was so large that we were able to build a small loft in there for our guests. Frank’s sister melanie stayed their and so did our dear friend Steven.

This is Frank and Steven in the foyer outside the entrance to our room. Behind us, out that window, was a little downtown car lot, Butt’s Buick as I recall.

Frank was missing his friends and the wild life in San Francisco. I’d get restless and do something rash soon enough. I’d trouble us out of paradise.

But right then it was dreamy to be living with the cutest boy I’d ever known and I slept soundly.

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How’s this for sleeping soundly, friends and fans of Jessica Pratt.

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One Response to “Santa Barbara, 1979”

  1. That kind of sleep still happens.
    It could happen any minute of any night…
    even if Colby and I (and sometimes more)
    are provoking discussion over useful but
    unrealistic situations and possibilities.
    Or talking about what’s next.
    “What is next?”
    It can get loud,
    and there she is…
    sound asleep.

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