. . . right on Buddy Rogers. As I cruised in search of a post office (or even a mailbox) in the 100-plus degree summer heat, I reflected that Palm Springs and its surrounding desert cities may comprise the most name-dropping area in the U.S. In addition to the Walk of Fame in downtown Palm Springs, many of the streets are named after the celebrities that made this town their home.
For example, I live close to Gene Autry Trail, which goes over the Gene Autry Bridge, glances past Gene Autry Plaza, and heads out toward I-10. Autry, the Singing Cowboy (1907-1998), was among the first celebrity residents of Palm Springs. Up the street on East Palm Canyon Drive, the Parker Palm Springs, features a private residence that once belonged to Autry, a two-bedroom, two-bathroom detached building with a private entrance way.
From the Parker, you can look up over the other side of Palm Canyon, up to Bob Hope's home on Southridge. The house reflects the desert's iconic avant garde architecture; it's been compared to anything from a mushroom cap to Darth Vader's helmet. (A similar roof shape belongs to the Oceans 111 restaurant in Rancho Mirage.) I've been told that the Hope house is frequently used as a venue for charity events, but I haven't been there myself.
I have, however, been to Frank Sinatra's Twin Palms. When Lee was writing Ava Gardner: Love Is Nothing, we were given a private tour of this surprisingly modest home, with its phenomenal pool and its infamously cracked bathroom sink (reportedly the result of a Frank-Ava contretemps).
Frank Sinatra Drive begins at Palm Canyon in Rancho Mirage, and goes way out there, baby, into the desert. But whenever I go to Palm Desert, I take Gene Autry and turn right on Dinah Shore. Similarly, whenever I go to the airport (to pick up my mother Carol, say), I drive up Gene Autry, go left on Ramon, then make a right onto Kirk Douglas Way, which snakes through the airport, bypassing lots of road traffic. Once, when we were in Palm Springs visiting Lee's friend, the inimitable character actor and notorious potty mouth, Marc Lawrence, he took us on a tour of famous actors' homes - one of which was Kirk Douglas'. It was on a very dark street, and had all its lights out. "He's not home," said Lawrence, adding the usual obscenities. (Thinking back on this, I'm wondering if Marc had forgotten to turn his headlights on.)
Bob Hope Drive, Gerald Ford Drive, Fred Waring Way, the list goes on. In fact, there's an old joke about giving directions around here that my husband told me: "You can stop on Gerald Ford, you can go down on Dinah Shore, but don't ever cross Frank Sinatra."
Tell it to the bathroom sink.
The Frank Sinatra house was designed by Palm Springs architect E. Stewart Williams, whose son Geoff Williams is a San Francisco-based artist. Geoff, perhaps because he grew up in the desert, paints large-scale abstracts that are inspired by the rivers he has fly-fished in. He is married to an old friend of mine, my former classmate Linda, whom I reunioned with on a recent trip to Santa Barbara. She read my Tarot cards.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading so expediticiously. What did the cards tell you?
ReplyDeleteNice piece. I had a great time while at Coachella for a month driving around and learning more about Palm Springs and the surrounding communities. Our scout troop has gone camping at the top of the tram. It is a very diverse place with many intriguing stories and colorful history.
ReplyDeleteGreat article Terri. I remember driving through there earlier this year while attending Coachella, the name-dropping was to the point of ridiculousness. But then, I realized that this is what makes Palm Springs Palm Springs.
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