I’ve been to Palm Springs a handful of times, not because it is my destination of choice, but for its convenience as an overnight stop while traversing the West’s vast distances, say, breaking up what might otherwise be an eight or nine hour trek.
This is my first visit since a two-block site in the center of town was (for years) a grotesque construction site, out of which grew the Kimpton Rowan Hotel, into which I checked, curious about their rooftop pool and bar.
Sorry to say, it was disappointing. The vibe was young adults on spring break: too much booze flowing too early in the day and deafening music.
Which made me realize that the only way to do Palm Springs is Frank Sinatra style: More my scene and more my speed as I venture more deeply into my seventh decade on this earthly plane.
There are two such places where “old world” Palm Springs still exists, both of which were Ol’ Blue Eyes’ favorite haunts.
The first is Melvyn’s, a venerable institution at the bottom of West Ramon Road—a red interior, a long bar and a skilled pianist.
Of course, in homage to Frank I order Jack Daniels, his favorite tipple (he was buried with a bottle), “two fingers, two rocks.”
To mine, add sweet vermouth and a Luxardo cherry: a bourbon Manhattan.
Good music with a cocktail always provides golden moments.
Frank did not have a regular table at Melvyn’s but preferred to stand at the bar or roam around, always buying drinks for his friends, would sometimes take a booth near the bar for dinner.
Second, Frank’s favorite restaurant: Johnny Costa’s Ristorante, a stone’s throw from Mervyn’s.
They still serve his signature steak…
His other menu favorite was “linguine clams.”
Johnny was Sinatra’s personal chef when he first moved to Palm Springs, having followed Frank from Hollywood.
Palm Springs was Sinatra’s favorite place to live. He moved here in 1948 and built a house (when there was almost nothing going on), for two reasons:
One, his movie studio contract stipulated he could reside no further than 90 miles from Hollywood and he wanted to live as far from Tinseltown as possible.
Two, he liked the desert heat.
The rest of Hollywood pursued their Chairman of the Board to this desert oasis—and put it on the map.
After doing Frank Sinatra Style, I resume my own with Lulu:
Fame Cigars & Wine on South Palm Canyon Drive and, to cap the evening, a glass of Caymus cab and a Macanudo.
Pure heaven as I wrap up a 12-day road trip through five states.
Deafening music is a plague of the modern age. I first noticed it 20 years ago in Starbucks. I figured they did it to prevent people hogging space for half a day or turning the place into their office.
But now it's everywhere it seems. I get the need for some background music for ambience or whatever. But there's a place for really loud music and it's at the front row of a Motorhead concert - not when I am trying to relax with friends over a drink.
Try as I might, I just can't understand what they gain by doing it!
I also feel for the poor employees that most likely end up with ear damage. There are strict rules around noise in factories in most places - why don't they apply to restaurants and bars?