Everywhere he went the flash of cameras blinded him, hounding him, flushing him out of every tuck-away place he could try and hide like a fox fleeing hounds. He longed to get away where no one would find him. Just a weekend of peace from the paparazzi using his every move for tabloid fodder. Where to go? The Riviera? The Bahamas? Paris? Been there done that. No, what he needed was one of the most decadently gorgeous and best kept secrets in Hollywood. “Babe, if you want the finest it’s practically in your backyard…just a couple hours drive from Hollywood. Get your booty to Joshua Tree Oasis! It’s National Park Lodging In Joshua Tree at its best!”
“That’s my hide-out too.” One of his gorgeous cast member pals whispered this in his ear one recent Red Carpet stroll down an awards event. The next day he booked four days at the edge of the Mojave—where he was met by the exquisite sound of silence. The scent and beauty of the desert in winter—swirls of rain beating against windows overlooking scenes straight out of Avatar as he read his latest scripts and vegged out while the roar of the crackling logs in the fire place lulled his soul. Outside, the rocky cliffs and swaying cacti and a curious bobcat and coyote loped by under the brilliance of blinding stars against an ebony sky. He soaked for seemingly hours in the huge bubbling outdoor Jacuzzi and wandered room after room naked and free inside the lush and magical beauty of Joshua Tree Oasis filled with all the luxury he was use to without the crush of crowds outside his door. This truly was a resort of vacation enchantment and decadent privacy! Peace like he never thought possible. “I found Nirvana,” he texted his lover(s) back home. “Next time it’s us here. This time it’s the retreat that’s saving my life. Let’s keep it between us…” And then he turned off his cell phone and listened to the transporting score of Joshua Tree Oasis serenity while a bolt of lightening split the desert sky reflected in yet another glass of wine.
– Cara Wilson Granat