Photo Pest: FLASHBACK: Barnet's West Coast Birthday Trip (2000)

When Barnet turned 50, I took him to the other coast. He'd never been west of the Mississippi.

Los Angeles

We almost didn't make it. I got the time of our departing flight from Newark wrong. "It's OK, sweetie. We'll just put you on the next flight," cooed the woman behind the counter, when Barnet played his birthday card. Imagine that!

Here we are on the balcony of the Wyndham Belage Hotel which I'd booked on Priceline. NSYNCH was staying there, too, and on the way to the hotel in our rental car, we nearly crashed into David Spade who turned a corner way too fast in a convertible with his posse. Welcome to LA!

Anthony joined us, too. We headed straight to Hollywood Boulevard. Later that night, after we took Barnet to a Wolfgang Puck outpost on Sunset Boulevard for his half-a-century celebration, we walked past Jared Leto on Sunset Strip. "Hey, Jeff. There's your boyfriend," Anthony cackled. Jordan Catalano still obsessed me. He still does, living on as powerfully in memory as Richie Randall.

I'd gotten tickets weeks in advance for the Getty Museum the next morning. We hopped aboard a sleek cable car to ride up a steep hill. The City of Lights stretched out beyond us when we got to the top.

By this time I had decided if I didn't include people in my photos, I might just as well buy postcards instead. Photo Pest went overboard, as you will see. The trip also taught me another life lesson: always get your hair cut before traveling.

The building and grounds of the museum were more impressive than the collection.

This barrel cactus shot was one of the early additions to "Abstractions," a subject file that now numbers nearly a thousand thanks to the advent of digital photography.

Barnet and Anthony had made pilgrimages to the stars of Hollywood Boulevard. I chose to be photographed "outside" the loo in Will Rogers State Park, where an undercover cop had arrested George Michael two years earlier.

Afterwards, we grabbed a hot dog at Pink's. Mostly locals lined up outside America's greasiest spoon.

I had discovered Griffith Park, where Nicholas Ray immortalized James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause, on an earlier trip.

We also checked out the LaBrea Tar Pits, which seemed completely cheesy.

Anthony wanted to take a peek inside Barney's on Rodeo Drive.

Las Vegas

We drove to Vegas where I had reservations at my first five-star hotel, the Bellagio, then just two years old. When in Rome . . .

The three of us shared a room. The cute bellhop looked a little confused when I asked him to bring up a daybed. It may have been cramped--luxury didn't buy much space--but get a load of the blurry view. Cameras have come a long, long way.

Before venturing out on the strip, we grabbed a drink at the bar and spotted a tipsy Tony Curtis chatting up a buxom showgirl. "They probably pay him," Anthony cracked. Sinatra blared from loudspeakers as the famous fountains danced. Very Rat Pack. We rode the roller coaster at New York, New York and sneered at the ersatz Venetian. It did not remotely remind me of the city I had seen with my parents and Charlie four decades earlier. Vegas is best experienced after the sunset. I couldn't wait to get out of town. One night was more than enough. Especially at Bellagio prices!

Death Valley National Park

Driving through the desert on a nearly empty highway makes it easy to forget how fast you're speeding. A highway patrolman ticketed me for doing 100 mph. Oops. But just like my father, I tore up the ticket. Let's hope I never get pulled over in California again.

Barnet, who loves technology, spent much of the gorgeous drive trying to change the time from Eastern to Pacific time on his new digital watch instead of looking out the window. "Michelangelo Antonio filmed Zabriskie Point here!" I badgered.

By the time we reached the western exit to the park, a pale full moon had begun to rise over the magnificent valley.

En route to Fresno, we spotted what sure as hell looked like a UFO in the dark sky, even to a skeptic like me. We later learned it had been the unannounced test firing of a missile from top secret military location. Very Twilight Zone.

Yosemite National Park

When sights are as magnificent as El Capitan and Bridalveil Fall, a postcard view is exactly what you want.

Anthony and Barnet staged a mock mugging near the water. They still come off gay!

We practically were the only guests at the Ahwahnee Hotel but I still had to borrow a jacket before we could dine in a room that had been built to seat a thousand people.

Although the interiors, where Stanley Kubrick shot scenes for The Shining, were in dire need of a make-over, you couldn't beat the view from the double I shared with Barnet. He stayed behind to order room service while Anthony and I took a damp hike.

We returned to a not exactly roaring fire . . .

Breakfast felt a lot less spooky than dinner when we half expected Jack Torrance to spring from the dark with his ax. I loved the decor and design on the crockery which mashed up Art Deco, Native American, Middle Eastern and Arts & Crafts styles.

We briefly strolled around the grounds, located on the valley floor, until it was time to head for San Simeon.

We detoured briefly to visit a redwood grove before exiting the park. Grizzly Giant seemed like a pipsqueak in comparison to what David and I had seen north of San Francisco.

My white shirt contrasted well with the rich brown soil of the San Joaquin Valley, one of the most productive agricultural areas in the nation.

The trip wasn't entirely "top shelf" as my Uncle Robbie would have said. While chowing down at a lively, packed Mexican restaurant in Fresno, the three of us stuck out like sore thumbs. Our accommodations that night were decidedly downscale.

The prospect of finally visiting Hearst Castle had me as excited as seeing Yosemite for the first time. It did not disappoint on a cool, sunny morning with mist rising off the Pacific. We toured the outdoor spaces first.

Imagine swimming with the stars--Buster Keaton, Greta Garbo, the Marx Brothers, Jean Harlow and Cary Grant, among them--in this pool during its heyday.

The light would have been much better for outdoor photography as the sun set. Oh well, next time.

Unusually, William Randolph Hearst, the yellow journalism magnate, commissioned a woman, Julia Morgan, to design his imposing getaway and first took occupancy during the Roaring Twenties.

I found it easier to imagine Old Hollywood here than anywhere else I've ever been. Although David Fincher was denied permission to film Mank on location, his movie still captures that atmosphere albeit in black and white just like Citizen Kane did!

Every place setting came with Heinz catsup and French's mustard. Note the monogrammed napkin.

Seahorse mosaic tiled the indoor pool.

You can bet we were singing "Go West" before and after this picture was taken on the Pacific Coast Highway!

Anthony struck a pose.

San Francisco

Another tourist photobombed Barnet on the cable car. We lunched at Fisherman's Wharf (clam chowder served in bowls made of sourdough bread) before heading to the Castro for a Friday night drink.

Napa Valley

Anthony and I would have preferred hanging out in San Francisco for another day, but Barnet wanted to drop in on Dan who lived next door to him in Manhattan Plaza. Dan, a composer, was staying in Napa Valley at the home of Maria Manetti Farrow, his wealthy "patroness," where he had his own musical studio. Maria conveniently was out of town. We stopped at the Golden Gate Bridge for photo ops first.

Three jaded New Yorkers were totally blown away by Mille Rose. As we pulled up Dan had an aria blasting from the outdoor speakers in the vineyard. "I'm sorry, I couldn't find any Streisand," he lamented.

Apparently, opera helped the grapes grow.

I can't say I've ever been in a nicer home. A staff served us lunch in the country kitchen. That's a bowl of walnuts on the table.

Anthony couldn't get over the inscribed photo of Sophia Loren on Maria's grand piano in the living room. Francis Ford Coppola lived near by. "And you guys didn't want to come," sniffed Barnet.

As we drove away, Anthony giggled. "If I were Dan, I'd be composing as fast as I could." Our nine-day trip, also a little allegro at times, ended on a crescendo.