As a young lass I watched a lot of inappropriate, adult, day-time dramas. My mum was partial to CBS soaps, so we watched As The World Turns, Bold and the Beautiful, and Young and the Restless. My favorite was Bold and the Beautiful. I loved the story between Brooke, the working-class girl from The Valley (reminiscent of my Sweet Valley High twins) and Ridge, the heir apparent to the Forrester fashion dynasty. Their love was taboo, but it prevailed (and failed to prevail) time and again, despite the evil machinations of Stephanie Forrester, the family matriarch.
All the right ingredients were there: beautiful people, skyscrapers, beaches, palm trees, sports cars, jewels, fashion, fame, intrigue, suspense, and drama, What little kid wasn’t simultaneously shocked and thrilled by the boob shot in the opening credits of the soap opera?
When things became to hot in LA, Brooke and Ridge would often escape to the mountains and the Forrester home in Big Bear, CA. Replete with a rustic log cabin, roaring flames in a vast fireplace, and a bearskin rug, the setting was ripe for many a romantic tryst as well as shoot-em down suspenseful plot lines. Really, with guns and such. Not matter the time of year, and it was most likely 100 degrees and humid as hell in Nebraska, the snow would be swirling from the skies in Big Bear, CA
What a place, my child’s brain thought. It snows year round. Amazing.
Well, things have become too hot in Palm Springs. We’re off to Big Bear for the weekend. We hope to drink good coffee, eat a delicious meal or two, take a hike in the mountains, and hang out in a hot tub. (Maybe. In a former life Big Guy was a hot tube repairman and he knows when a hot tub is sanitary and when it is not. He is particular as to when we should get in one.)
If life lessons from Bold and the Beautiful ring true, we will have to dodge and duck various marauding thieves and villains. I think we are up to the challenge, and we are doing it on our motorcycle. It should make for some good swerving for Big Guy and some groping of my hunky husband for me. You know, as I hang on on the back while we are dodging the bullets and escape with our lives. After that we will return to our $65 hotel room that is sure to have a flaming fire and a bearskin rug. We will then have mad, passionate, sex on said rug in front of said fire. I love Big Bear!
Taking about “cruising” on our motorcycle makes me feel like I’m 60. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve had enough life for a 60 year old. I am not exaggerating when I say I am looking forward to menopause. Be gone, cycstic ovaries, be gone!
My dream is to get an amazing cruiser that has a heated recliner in the back with a helmet connected by radio to Big Guy’s helmet so we can talk. I will throw in some arm rests and massage points for good measure. Perhaps I would also add another saddlebag so I can bring more clothes. I’m a terrible packer. Big Guy would prefer that I learn to ride my own motorcycle, but I prefer to laze on the back of his bike.
Ladies, get your motors running. Wink, wink.
Get your motors running!
