PETER BUFFA -- Comments and Curiosities

Where to go, what to see, what to do. It used to be maps and tour

guides. Now, it’s the Internet.

When I plan a trip, I turn to the Web to get the rundown on the place

-- something I do often. Hotels, restaurants, local attractions,

distances from here to there, blah, blah, blah. I have learned through

hard-earned experience that sometimes the stuff is accurate, and

sometimes it isn’t.

The hardest earned experience was a trip to the Flathead Indian

Reservation in Montana. I was going to the tribal offices north of San

Pablo to do an interview. As we finalized the details, they offered to

fax me a map and directions.

Don’t bother, I told them, explaining that I am a 21st century man --

computerized, digitized and Internet-ready in every way. I have my Global

Positioning System-accurate, door-to-door directions from the Spokane

airport to their doorstep, I told them, speaking in a slow, deliberate

voice so they wouldn’t become lost in a blizzard of hi-tech talk.

“Ok,” they said, with an oddly prescient tone of voice.

When the trip had taken at least 45 minutes and 60 miles longer than

my computerized, state-of-the-art directions had predicted, I was

actually ready to violate the number-one manly man rule: Never, ever,

ever ask directions, no matter how lost you are.

I would have violated the manly man code gladly, but there was nothing

between me and the horizon except a hawk gliding overhead and three

buffalo staring at me through a barbed wire fence.

Buffalo are majestic and silent. Very silent. They don’t know from

directions. But there was an unmistakable look of disdain in their eyes.

This wasn’t the first lost white guy in a rental car they’d seen.

An hour and a half later I arrived at my destination well over two

hours late. I tried to explain myself, offering my Global Positioning

System-accurate directions as evidence. They thought I was amusing, but

the directions were hilarious. I’m sure they’re still hanging on

someone’s bulletin board.

Anyway, after this last trip, I said to myself, “Self, I wonder what

people who’ve never been to the land of the Newport-Mesa can find out

about us on the Web?”

The results will surprise and amuse you. Maybe.

You live in Kankakee, Ill. (not really, we’re just pretending) -- a

nice town about 50 miles south of Chicago. Your friends dream about New

York or Paris or Tahiti.

But not you. No, not you. Ever since you were a little kid, your dream

has been to see Costa Mesa, Calif., to visit Skosh Monahan’s, order a

Black Velvet and watch the parade of life go by on Newport Boulevard.

Your friends don’t understand. But you know it’s why you were put on this

earth.

You buy a Kankakee County Lotto ticket at the Piggly-Wiggly and wham,

your ship comes in -- $3,500 in cold, hard cash. You opt for the lump-sum

payout -- $1,500. More than enough to head for the promised land.

But first, some homework.

Someone suggests you sign on to America Online’s “Digital City” travel

guide. Eating is important. You check the “restaurants” tab. Here’s what

you find out: The “Editor’s Pick” of Costa Mesa restaurants is Maggiano’s

Little Italy. Sounds good.

The next four “Costa Mesa” restaurants are Aubergine, Bayside,

Bistango, and Cowboy Seafood. “Funny,” you say to yourself, “I don’t

remember those in my dream.”

The next two Costa Mesa eateries are the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel

and French 75 in Laguna Beach. The last three are Pascal, Pinot Provence

and Troquet, two of which are actually in Costa Mesa, which is handy.

Finally, there’s the Ramos House Cafe, which apparently is in the San

Juan Capistrano area of Costa Mesa.

You say you want to see Newport Beach? Absolutely! There’s nothing

like it in Kankakee, bud. But don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

Let’s see what the Yahoo! city guide has to say about the jewel in the

crown of the California Riviera.

Hmm, that’s disappointing. There’s only one Chinese restaurant -- the

Newport China Kitchen on something called the Peninsula. Hang on. This

sounds interesting. Not one, but two dinner theaters in Newport Beach!

And I didn’t think there were any. How foolish of me. There’s the Gourmet

Detective in the Irvine section of Newport Beach and the Killer Dinner

Theatre at PJ’s Abbey Restaurant in the Orange area of town, just five

miles from Disneyland.

Better pick a hotel, now that we have the restaurants sorted out.

There’s the Four Seasons Hotel -- first cabin, very elegant, “minutes

from sparkling beaches and 36 holes of seaside golf.” Doesn’t say what

the greens fees are, though. How bad can they be?

The Balboa Inn sounds lovely -- “historic, Old World-style hotel

located on Newport Beach.”

Wait, this sounds interesting. The Hyatt Newporter overlooking the

Back Bay, central to Edison International Field, Laguna Beach, Disneyland

and Universal Studios.

Yeah, that’s the ticket. Whenever we have out-of-town visitors who

want to see Universal, I always suggest they stay at the Hyatt Newporter.

You practically fall out of bed into Universal Studios. Could there be

anything more convenient? I think not.

Strange, though, isn’t it? You thought there would be a lot more

hotels and restaurants and stuff out here. It almost makes you think the

only places that show up on the Internet are the ones that paid to be

there.

Nah, that wouldn’t be right. If it’s on the Internet, it has to be

true. Doesn’t it? I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays.

He may be reached via e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.