Alive and Well in Death Valley

What? Did you guys think I was dead or something?

Gang, if Dex Baxter is anything, its a survivor!

And I am doing more than surviving, I am flourishing as the proprietor and owner of the Desert Lodge Motel and Cafe in Death Valley California.

OK, alright, I guess I am getting ahead of myself a bit as I am sure you are curious as to how I ended up here ... fine, pull up a chair, smoke 'em if you got 'em, and let Uncle Dex tell you a story.

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Once upon a time there was a very successful script doctor named Dex Baxter, who lived on a hill just off of Mulholland drive in a magic kingdom known as Hollywood. The man shared his beautiful home with a semi-famous actor named Hank Azaria, and for the most part, they were very happy.

Dex and Hank were lucky men. They both did what they loved for a living, had a group of rich and famous friends, got invited to the best parties in town and generally lived life in the fast lane.

Unfortunately for Dex, he had his demons, and they followed him constantly.

As a young man, Dex fought valiantly against his personal monsters, and usually he came out on top (with the occasional tumble in the dirt). But thanks to the support of friends, he was able to stay on the straight and narrow.

But one day, it all just became too much for our hero and he stared the demon down, and this time the demon won and sent Dex on a downward spiral that sent him to the Kingdom of Rehab.

It was while he was at this Kingdom that Dex realized that the only way he'd ever forever defeat his addictions was to leave them behind ... and so, on the night before he was supposed to leave the Kingdom of Rehab, he jumped a Greyhound Bus with five hundred thousand in cash in his pocket and got off at a dusty old motel in the middle of the desert, and there, he found peace, contentment and a sense of belonging.

How's that for a start?

It's all true!

On November 19th, at four in the afternoon, I walked into the Desert Lodge Motel and Cafe' and with one look, I knew that this was the place for me. With its ten motel rooms, swimming pool, iguana petting zoo, clapboard and stucco bar and grille ... what can I say, this dusty and weather beaten establishment seemed to be calling to me. So, I made an offer to the owner, a crusty old character by the name of Gordy, and twenty thousand bucks later, I held the deed, liquor license and keys to the establishment in my hot little hands.

I have not left everything behind, no, I still have some contacts from the old days. Eric Stillman has been a big help (who do you think took the Warhol portrait from Paramount and then sold it to a collector in Van Nuys for a cool million? That money is now invested in a Swiss Bank account ... some money for a rainy day).

Guadalupe has also joined me in this venture ... actually she stopped into the cafe one night while running immigrants across the desert in her modified camper van (she rakes in a pretty penny for this -- no judgments on my part), needless to say we were both shocked to see each other. I remember her saying to me, "Oh Mr. Dex, we were all so worried for you, Mr. Hank is so upset, you must call him! Oh Madre Mia!" When she finally calmed, I talked her into staying on here in Death Valley with me ... we now serve the best quesadillas east of Mexico City here at the Desert Lodge Motel Cafe.

But I got to tell you, I love this life. No more hustling for the studios, or boring parties, or tripping over Doris Roberts in my driveway ... no sir, now you can find me behind the bar here, serving up beers to cowboys and mixed drinks to lost tourists; or making sure that the rooms are clean and ready for guests ... this is as close as I've ever come to a vision quest.

I have a lot more to say, but wireless computer connections are a bit haphazard here in Death Valley, so I have to sign off, feed the iguanas and then get ready for the dinner crowd tonight.