
My mother's family name is Gum, so it also sounds like the place they'd go to gossip.

Speaking of the Caliente Tropics (the post below), it was built by Ken Kimes, who had a chain of beautiful tropics-themed motels in the 60's in Modesto, Indio, Rosemead, Blythe, Palm Springs, and elsewhere, usually with an adjacent Sambo's. The cute little elfin tile to the left identifies a Ken Kimes property. But though this happy gnome appears to be toweling off without a care in the world, today the Kimes name is associated with something a bit more insidious.
When the weather gets hot, I long for a trip to the Desert Cities, for here can be found pools and A/C and rum-based drinks and lazing about in a drying swimsuit and robe. I am reminded of our visit to the Caliente Tropics motel in Palm Springs, a terrific exercise in 60's Polynesia that has been nicely updated. Plus it is so pet-friendly, there were free dog biscuits on arrival. Now if only they had in-room rum...



Back around 1981, our motel put a Keffe Coffee Bar in every room. It was just a pot for boiling water, which you would pour into a styrofoam cup of instant coffee. If you were road-weary and looking for something to pry open the eyes, it was probably a welcome beverage. But by age 12 I was a coffee snob, grinding my own chicory-blend roast and drinking it in a mug from New Orleans. I wanted nothing to do with the Keffe Coffee Bar, and treated it with scorn and derision. 

What famous motel chain got its name from a movie? No, not the "White Men Can't Jump Lodge." From the 1942 film starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, it's "Holiday Inn."
As motels didn’t proliferate until the 1950s, you will not find them haunted by top hat-wearing men or elegantly-gowned women. The ghosts that occupy motels are likely to be hippies, disco dancers, soccer moms, grunge rockers, or internet start-up founders. Rather than falling victim to an outbreak of tuberculosis or a stray Winchester bullet, these spectres probably expired from advanced carpal tunnel syndrome, or some kind of iced latte-induced brain freeze.
Think of this the next time you're on the road and see a motel sign that looks vaguely familiar, but don't know why. Or think of something else. It's your brain.