TWILIGHT (ZONE) OF THE COWBOYS

Lovely Readers,

I have been spending much of my
time weeping for the fact that
you have probably never experienced
anything quite like what I bore witness to last weekend. That's right--I'm still weeping and it's already Thursday.

The main thing is, I'm just sad at the
injustice that has led you to have never visited Pioneertown, CA.

Built in 1947 as a permanent old west movie set, with help from such illustrious
investors as Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers, the place still hops on the weekends, drawing visitors from as close as Yucca Valley and as far as Switzerland, who come, no doubt, for the camp.

On Saturdays and Sundays, the local "actors" put on an old west show that involves The Blackfoot Gang's plan to rob
a bank during a Wells Fargo rep's visit
to town on horseback. It's a highly original plot, and not unlike porn in the simplicity of its execution. My favorite part was, though the actors have been performing this very same show for the last twenty-some-odd-years, there was still no shortage of gaffes. But that, my friends, is the biggest part of Pioneertown's charm. That, and the incredibly potent margaritas and live music at the town's biker bar, Pappy and Harriet's.

Another major highlight was Pioneertown's only bowling alley, Pioneer Bowl, which at one time had old fashioned bowling with pin setters, but now claims to have the oldest "working" automated lanes in existence. I use the term "working" loosely, since only three of the six lanes were functioning, one of which broke down mid game. And word to the wise: Don't bother putting a quarter in the old fashioned pin ball machines, unless you intend to make a donation. But that, my friends, in case you forgot, is all part of the charm of Pioneertown.

It's a post modern time warp where you can get a taste of the idiosyncratic lives of the town's permanent residents--many of whom still dress like it's 1899--while drinking an old fashioned soda and helping the two gay guys next to you from Palm Springs score their bowling game, as the African American family sitting at the soda fountain looks on.

I can't help wondering what Gene Autry and Roy Rogers would have thought of all this. We'll never know for sure, but I'd like to think they wouldn't have had it any other way.