Today I am sitting in a nice beachfront hotel in Cambria, California. Outside, waves relentlessly pound a beach the colour of granite and the sun marches downward toward the Pacific. It's freaky idyllic. As I walked back to my room a little sqadron of monarch butterflies swarmed around my head, seeming to say "Stupid primates! You were so busy developing those big forebrains and opposable thumbs that you forgot to learn how to fly." Invertebrates say things like that to me all the time. Strange little arthropods.

Thursday we drove to Hearst Castle, that marvellous chateau in the San Simeon Mountains where newspaper and movie magnate William Randolph Hearst housed his art treasures. Two hours of walking, stairs, artistic marvels, history, and beauty. A trio of Australian blondes about my age flirted with me a bit, which was fun, although it made me all the more acutely aware that my own special someone is far away.

This has certainly been an interesting week. it started with my darling friend Suki taking me, Suzi, and our dear friend Chris out to see avant-garde violinist, composer, and performance artist Laurie Anderson. I've seen this woman perform about six times, and she never fails to top herself...It was a great start to this week.

The next day, I flew to Los Angeles to be with my "second parents," Carol and Richard Eberhard.

Richard and Carol are the parents of my best friend, Suzi. They have more-or-less adopted me and become more like family than people in my 'real' family are. They certainly treat me like family. They've spent a fortune on this trip, and we've been having such a nice time.

I sometimes tell clients that I met the Eberhards when I was about 17 years old, and they started having me over for dinner, they just never really stopped doing that.

We drove up the California coast, past post-card views and quaint little towns, to Cambria, a tiny dot on the map, crammed with more hotels than I have seen this side of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

The first time I ever heard of touring Hearst Castle, it was when an ex girlfriend toured in in the 90s. I thought "What's the point of going to see some rich jerk's monument to his own ego. But Hearst Castle isn't like that. Well, it is a monument to a guy who was quite amazing, but had a bit of a brooding side and a flair for the melodramatic. In one of his big rooms he had a concealed panel where he could pop out, tuxedoed and suddenly be amongst the guests without anyone seeing him show up. Sometimes he would show up with a tray of cocktails and a towel over his arm and people who had not met him would assume that Mr. Hearst was, in fact, the butler.

Hearst was one of those amazing guys like Howard Hughes (albeit considerably less weird than Hughes) who did a bit of "it all." As a boy he toured Europe with his mother, as an adult he made a fortune publishing newspapers. Later, he inherited his parents' giant ranch and had the magnificent estate built on it. It's less of a castle than a ginormous villa, really.

Hearst went into the movie industry, which was young at the time, and entertained luminaries like Clark Gable, Hedda Hopper, Greta Garbo, W.C. Fields, and Charlie Chaplin at his California estate, one of seven homes the fabulously wealthy man kept around the world.

Men like Hearst make me feel a bit small. I mean, as a lad I thought I was destined for greatness--perhaps I would be an eminant scientist, a great doctor, or a captain of industry. I would see the world, and do amazing things. I never envisioned the quiet little life I would have. I look at the accomplishments of people like WR Hearst and I am suitably humbled.

I'd actually still love to spend a year or so touring Europe like young Hearst did. I'd take my sweetie, or my sis...preferably both, and see many of the great historical sites of the Old World. Work on my book, see places where great people did great things. That would be amazing.

This has been quite a year in the quiet little life. I went to England, spent time in Port Arthur with friends, went down to Conroe and got to pet a wolf, and now I am in California. It's been fantastic, really.

Then there's the love stuff. The last 12 months has been the most complex year, love-wise, in my entire life, but good. I'm more content than a man has a right to be. Really good, in the final reckonking.

When I back up and reflect on the blessings I have: my family, my friends, my girlfriend, a job I love...I feel very fortunate indeed. It's a quiet little life, but it seems to suit me well.

I'd still like that year in Europe though.