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But, this is the best surprise and secret of all. And it is strictly hush-hush. Do
not, under penalty of death, pass this along to any gossip columnist, television
reporter, talk radio host, or presidential candidate:
La Playita Hotel...recently renamed La Marina Inn (because of the marina
being developed all around it). Stop by and say Hi! Stay awhile in one of
the neat rooms (about 25, at about $100 bucks). After that, launch in a
panga boat and go fishing for yellow fin, marlin, wahoo, red snappers,
grouper, and dorado...plus others. Bring your catch back to "the
landing", clean it or have it cleaned in one of the many new and clean
stainless steel sinks / counters, and then carry it across the street to La
Marina (it is only a few steps away)...where it will be grilled, baked, or
seared to your satisfaction for dinner that very evening - with lemons,
and sautes, and all of the garnish stuff. Tell them how you want it. Don't
spend $500 per day for a "destination resort." You can easily access all
of the Cabo stuff at your desire at La Marina. Or stay away from the
crowds when you want to, and get better service here for about $100.

Reservations and Information: Five ways. Two telephone numbers, two
email addresses, and the brand new (5/29/08) big bubba website. Website still
under construction. This will all come together soon, and make perfect sense.
Hang in there. The person to contact at La Marina is Kelly. Telephone her at
011-52-624-14-24166 if you are calling from an overseas / international
location. Email address in Cabo - laplayitahotel@prodigy.net.mx. Or email
Joanne at joanneostrom@aol.com. But George tells me that the best way to
get you going in the right direction is to call 307-224-4929 during office hours,
which are 8-5 Monday through Friday (mountain time zone).
La Playita when George arrived:
La Playita now:
The amazing thing is that you get the best of both of them. Hang on to your
hooker's.

Every taxicab driver at the San Jose del Cabo International Airport (SJD) can
get you to La Playita...clickety-split! Or, take the one of the scheduled "tourist"
buses to the Tropicana and catch a cab from there. Or, rent a car.

George and Joanne will take care of you...guaranteed!

Note: The "season" at the Playita starts November 1st. Just wanted to give
you a heads-up so you could get a head start on the others. And George says
that you do not have to sell your horse.

George purchased La Playita about 15 years ago. A lot of "sweat equity" in
that one, bubba. And that is spelled "sweat", not "sweet." Just ask him or
Joanne.

Here is an aside: Another one of George's innovations -
Now, despite his reputation, George did not save the whales...but he did save
the water tower from immediate and irreversible destruction. He conceived a
plan to convert the huge redwood water tank (which is just steps from the
beach, and that provides an unparalleled 360 degree unobstructed view of
Southern California) into a no-kidding house. Here is why: The city council
was ready to rip the tank / tower down because it no longer served its purpose
of providing water...plus it became a graffiti magnet and eyesore. Upon
hearing of the "rip down" part, some concerned citizens braved to venture into
a council meeting and said to the council "don't you dare rip down our
landmark, or we will rip you a new one. And if we can't do that, then we will rip
something right out of or off of your bodies." (or words to that effect). Ahem,
cough, gasp, and look the other way, if you wish, but you are not getting away
from us this time, you scoundrels. You are captured. Give up!

The council got the message. They surrendered. And they wisely and
promptly replied to the citizens...but only out of fear for their (the council's)
very existence. But, oops, there was a small problem: there was no public
money available to restore the water tower. Now whadda we do, the council
mumbles to itself (in a panic filled state of confusion, which is often referred to
as "leadership" by politicians and C.E.O.s). We don't have any money, and
we don't want those parts that you citizens (i.e. - pesky voters) are talking
about to be altered or removed from our bodies.

George then dashes into action with a plan that ultimately made everyone
happy - except for communists. He jetted numerous times to Sacramento,
attended countless meetings with the California Coastal Commission (aka, the
bureaucracy to end all bureaucracies...unless you've been to Mexico,
Zimbabwe, or San Francisco), blasted a string of letters, and asked for
"permission" for it to be converted from a water tank into a house. The CCC
finally "caved in" (duh) and said "yes." (Logic 101: The citizens want the tank /
tower preserved; the city council wants it preserved; and George has an
answer. How many hula hoops must the CCC require these pesky citizens to
jump through or rotate in unison in order to get this simple task done?)

And then he did it...with his own bucks. And I reckon it is still standing...or, at
least it was the last time I looked. And, just like the article said, I spotted the
tower on departure and approach from / to LAX when I was jetting jets from
HNL and other overseas locations (Frankfurt,Germany; Hong-kong by way of
Anchorage; and CONUS).

He did it In 1984, of all dates.

Oh, in case I forgot to mention it...George is my uncle. His son Dan (along
with Dan's construction company based in Arizona) is the guy that transformed
the tank into a house. And that's the truth. My dad and another uncle (Bill)
pulled the ropes (they did it physically on the hoisting day, from the deck) to
get the tank properly positioned and settled onto the tower that day.
Helioploclopters from every news station in SoCal were on-site and hovering
in swarms and filming / reporting live, as was CNN (before most of you even
knew what a CNN was all about...because you did not have cable TV or a
clicker). I was there, and I saw it happen with my very own eyes; and that is
my story...and I'm sticking with it...and that is from the lips of Commodore Jim.

This is Big Time fun! Golf at the Rattlesnake Arroyo.
Directly across the street from Buzzard's - and a mere 200 yards from the briny main (see
this too, and this) - is the largest known golf course / sand trap in the world...the
legendary Rattlesnake Arroyo Golf Course (9 holes). There is not a blade of grass within
three miles!

Here is the routine:

You arrive at about 7:00 a.m.
You may or may not "meet up" with all of the folks that said that they would meet
you there - depending on how everyone set their watches / clocks the night
before, or if their eyes were open to look at them in the morning, or if their car
started. Either they got there too early, and started without you. Or you got there
first, and said (after a loooong five minute wait): "We are burning daylight, let's get
the herd moving - with or without them."
But, most of the time, it actually works out as planned.

These are the rules (as Commodore Jim understands them, and of course they are
subject to change at anytime):
1. You are golfing in the sand...putts and all...all of the time!
2. There are no golf carts. You will be walking, bubba.
3. Golf bags are prohibited. You must carry your selection of shooters in your hand - or
find someone else to carry them for you (Good luck on that one).
4. Caddies are not allowed.
5. You don't use them wood clubbers...ya use them iron things.
6. Tee's are mandatory (those are them little wood things that you place your ball on, and
which becomes the launching pad for your soon to become "perfect shot"). And you
better have a buncha them...'cause they magically disappear into the sand after your
shot...all of the time...no matter how hard you look for them. Tee's are not a shirt here...
no matter what you have been told. And they are not something that you drink with
crumpets.
7. You had better be standing behind whoever is doing the swinging. And even that may
not be safe - because balls have been spotted ricocheting off of boulders to achieve the
"hole in one." It is funny to see it happen before your very eyes. It's magic. But they
could just as easily bounce back and bop you on your noggin.
8. Keep your eyes open at all times.
9, Don't trust anyone.
10. Be prepared to "duck and cover" at any given moment.
11. Dogs are allowed, but watch your step, because them critters have been known to
"make a deposit" on the exact location that your next step takes you a fraction of a
second before your foot lands. And then it squishes. And then you smell it.

Now...if you whack a ball off of one of the designated "fairways" by accident, you are
required to scrounge and trudge through heavy brush, trees, cactus, and a buncha
other stuff on the perimeter as part of your search effort for your vanished ball. This
rough is really a rough. At that instant, some not-so-kind words will immediately,
automatically, and uncontrollably be uttered from your mouth. You are not saying
them...they are just coming out. It's magic!

No tellin' what you'll find in those bushes; but more than likely, you will find stranded,
lost, and wayward golf balls - missing since who knows when (and they come in all
colors). And they could be lodged in trees or tucked away beneath some rocks. And you
could not have found a better place to hide them if you were in charge of an Easter egg
hunt.

This next part is important, so pay attention: If the closest ball that you spot in the brush
is the same color as the one that you were using...then pick it up, toss it back onto the
course, and resume play. If you cannot find a ball within two minutes of disappearing
into the brush as part of your valiant effort to find your missing ball, then glance over
your shoulder (to make sure that nobody is watching you), take a ball from your pocket
and clandestinely drop it onto the ground. Then point at it, and loudly proclaim "here it
is...I found it." Nobody will be the wiser. For once in your life, lying and cheating is
allowed...and possibly encouraged, and probably expected...depending on who you are
playing with. Take advantage of it. You don't even need to be a Congressman to "get
away with it." (By the way, we all know what you are doing on your "missing ball " hunt.
We are just pretending that we don't, so that you can pretend that you do.).

Commodore Jim says that he personally explored for errant shots on more than one
occasion...and it ain't particularly easy when your golf shoes are "blown out" flip-flops.

Commodore Jim also says that he played the course for the first time in 2006 (although
he never plinked a link in his life prior to that)...but man-oh-man, the "dessert" part of
the experience is the breakfast at Buzzard's after the "round of golf" (or whatever you
later decide to name it).

The Rattlesnake Arroyo even has a "sanctioned" tournament once a year (in March).
Who does the "sanctioning" is not exactly known; and what "sanctioned" means is not
exactly known - but nevertheless, it is sanctioned, and they probably even have some
rules.