We had guests for that whole last weekend, a reporter from the L.A. Times, Tom Curwen, and Times photographer, Mark Boster. They basically shadowed us all weekend, starting Friday after until we pulled out for the last time late Sunday afternoon. They shared meals, sat around the fire, followed Mark and George all weekend, along with several others of the owner group who came for a while on Saturday, watching every minute detail of what it means to close down 13 rustic cabins for the winter season. Mark B. took thousands of pictures--or at least it seemed that way, along with recording the sounds of the weekend--flames crackling, bacon frying, screw guns, staple guns, conversations. At first it was a little disconcerting, knowing he was recording a lot of what we said, but then we kind of got used to it. And Tom was never without his little notebook. They asked about everything from what motivated us to become a part of the owner group to what music we had playing in our cabin or on our ipods during the weekend. Mark B. took pictures of the beautiful scenery and pictures of Mark W. plunging the toilets. Along the way, we got to know each other on a more personal basis....because that is what happens when you spend time around a campfire. Somehow things that you might not feel comfortable sharing, especially with someone you just met, become easy to talk about with the flames crackling.
Both mornings, all four of the guys got up early and went down to the lake to fish, building a fire to keep a little warmer.
Mark Boster--never without his camera, even when eating lunch
Then the waiting game began. When would the article be printed? What would Tom's angle be when he wrote it? If pictures accompanied the article, and we happened to be in them, would they be flattering or would we look dorky? Where would the article be "buried"? After all, it was in the L.A. Times, a big paper with a big circulation. Somewhere back in the Life section?
Well, the slide show went online late last night, and it is definitely worth taking a look at. We were able to read the online article this morning. Then George went to Barnes and Noble to be there when it opened at 9 a.m. and I headed off to Borders, where we each bought every single copy of the L.A. Times that was available. Yep, we are now proud owners of 15 copies.
And where was the article actually "buried"? Uh....
Section A, page 1. Let me repeat that.
Section A, page 1.
I called Mark at work. I called my mother to tell her my name was on the front page of the Times but that I had not committed a crime to get there. And I texted Aaron and Christa. Aaron texted me back: "You mean Column One. That is the big one for L.A. Times." Checked my paper. Jeepers!!! We ARE Column One! Who knew? (and side note: how did Aaron know that? When I called George to let him know that little tidbit, that was his question as well. "How does your son know all these random things?" Yeah, well he's always known so much random info that I wasn't sure how he had room for all the stuff he needed to know to become an optometrist, but that's a topic for another day.)
I was hoping I could put the actual slide show right here, but I don't think the L.A. Times wanted me to do that, so here is the link:
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-huntington-resort-ss,0,7804935.htmlstory
So I'm just trying to expand our 15 minutes into a full 24 hours. Until the next issue of the L.A. Times comes out and we are just "yesterday's news."
