That weekend, Tim and I went on a road trip through California with my parents. Hearst’s Castle, San Simeon, was our first major stop.

Luck was with us. Another beautiful day. We drove up the road to San Simeon’s visitor center, Dad got our tickets, and we walked around waiting for the tour to start, looking at pictures of William Randolph Hearst, his parents, framed shots of his letters, etc. etc. Little mention of Hearst’s mistress Marion Davies. The actual tour began with a bus ride up the long, winding road to the castle, past rolling golden hills, rocky outcroppings, the occasional distant cow or zebra. Our tour guide, Lawrence, walked us through the “medium guest house,” Casa del Sol and the main house. Lots of tall, Italianate beds, elaborate ceilings, and shiny upholstery. The outdoor pool, “Neptune’s” was bright, surrounded by pale statues, the indoor pool dark green, dimly lit, flecked with gold.

A break for lunch and then the second tour, which was a bit more interesting because we had a new tour guide. Wayne was slender, anxious, bearded, with delicate features, an earring, and a flair for gossip. He pointed out the tacky department store furniture next to the Roman and Renaissance era museum pieces looted from Europe.

Many years later, when I was writing an article about Tiffany’s for a local paper, I encountered a sort of sequel to Wayne’s observation about the Hearst’s taste. For years Tiffany historians had been in search of The Orchid Vase a beautiful, awrd-winning silver piece sold to an unknown buyer in 1889. Every year, as a matter of course, they would send a desciption of it to various museums. Finally, in 2000, someone at Hearst Castle mentioned the light fixture they had noticed during the yearly silver cleaning. Phoebe Hearst had converted this graceful piece into a goddamned table lamp and topped it with a frilly white shade.