A famous heart in the desert, an eighteen-year closing shift, a complete four-pick demolition and the official end of run-line gambling.
On the way home, I stopped in Yermo, California, to photograph the Jenny Rose Restaurant.
The restaurant has been closed for years.
The sign has refused to acknowledge this.
It still stands beside Interstate 15 with a giant red heart wrapped around the name JENNY ROSE, followed by the word RESTAURANT in letters large enough to reassure motorists several lanes away that food may once have occurred here.
This is not a tasteful little sign mounted near the entrance.
This is a declaration.
The heart is enormous. The name occupies its own rectangular platform. “Restaurant” hangs underneath like supporting documentation.
It looks less like a restaurant sign and more like Jenny Rose won an election.
The building is still there behind it, but the restaurant has been closed since approximately 2008 or 2009. Nobody seems completely certain about the date, which feels appropriate for a place that has spent nearly two decades looking as though the employees might return from lunch.
I may have shared a milkshake there in the ’70s with my dad on the way to a Dodgers game.
Through the windows, the counter remains.
The blue stools are still lined up in front of it. The stainless-steel kitchen equipment is still behind it. Boxes, trays and miscellaneous restaurant objects remain scattered around the room.
It does not look demolished.
It does not even look properly abandoned.
It looks temporarily inconvenienced.
Somebody could walk through the door, turn on the coffee maker and announce that the delay was caused by staffing issues.
The history is surprisingly difficult to pin down. The internet has photographed Jenny Rose from every available angle but remains less certain about when it opened, exactly who operated it and when everybody finally stopped showing up.
One local account says the building began as Hart’s Cafe before becoming Jenny Rose. Another bit of local lore says the name came from the mothers of two owners—one named Jenny and the other Rose—which is either a sweet tribute or the most efficient restaurant-naming meeting ever conducted.
“What should we call it?”
“What are our mothers’ names?”
“Meeting adjourned.”
What we do know is that the sign once looked different.
In the early 1990s, the giant heart surrounded the word CAFE, with JENNY ROSE underneath it.
That version of the sign appeared on the back cover of Sheryl Crow’s 1993 debut album, Tuesday Night Music Club.
The album contained “All I Wanna Do,” “Strong Enough” and, importantly, a song called “Leaving Las Vegas.”
There is no official proof that the Jenny Rose sign was selected because of “Leaving Las Vegas.”
However, the restaurant sits beside Interstate 15 between Los Angeles and Las Vegas.
If that connection was accidental, then coincidence had briefly become an art director.
The album eventually sold millions of copies.
Jenny Rose sold hamburgers in Yermo.
Only one of them is still standing beside the freeway demanding recognition.
The sign also appeared in the video for Bush’s “Mouth,” filmed in the desert during the 1990s. This means the abandoned restaurant possesses a music résumé that includes Sheryl Crow and Bush despite never having released an album, played an instrument or successfully completed a sound check.
Eventually, the sign changed.
“CAFE” disappeared. Jenny Rose received the prominent position inside the heart, while “RESTAURANT” was added below.
This may have been branding.
It may have been new ownership.
It may have been the result of someone finally admitting that nobody driving seventy miles per hour could tell whether Jenny Rose was a person, a diner or a regional medical condition.
Whatever happened, the restaurant eventually closed.
The sign stayed.
That is the part I like.
Businesses disappear all the time. Buildings get demolished. Signs are removed, replaced or redesigned by someone who believes the public has been waiting for a tasteful gray rectangle using a lowercase sans-serif font.
Jenny Rose avoided this.
The restaurant stopped serving food, but the sign continued reporting for work.
Day after day, year after year, it has remained beside the freeway advertising a restaurant that no longer exists.
No customers.
No cooks.
No hairnets.
No coffee.
No milkshakes.
No apparent concern.
Jenny Rose no longer has to make breakfast, refill coffee or explain why the restroom requires a key attached to an object the size of a canoe paddle.
She just stands in the desert inside a giant heart while thousands of people drive past and wonder what happened.
The restaurant is gone.
The sign became famous.
The blue stools are still waiting.
And somewhere inside that silent kitchen, the closing shift appears to be running approximately eighteen years behind schedule.
Some things stop working and quietly disappear.
Other things stop working, remain beside the highway and eventually become landmarks for pee breaks.
This is also the operating philosophy behind our sports picks.
The restaurant is technically closed.
The sign is technically there.
Our picks are technically ours and also picks.
Yesterday’s Autopsy
Yesterday’s four-pick card went 0-4.
There is losing, and then there is conducting a controlled demolition of every available wager.
The Yankees -1.5 lost to Minnesota 5-4 in thirteen innings. New York played four additional innings to make certain we had enough time to become emotionally invested before losing outright.
The Dodgers -1.5 lost to Cincinnati 6-2. Blake Snell departed after one inning with groin tightness, and the Dodgers allowed the Reds to continue scoring without adequate supervision.
We needed Los Angeles to win by two.
Cincinnati apparently received the same instructions but did not tighten their collective groins.
The Rays -1.5 beat the Athletics 4-3, giving us our second consecutive one-run Rays victory when we required two.
At this point, Tampa Bay is not merely failing to cover.
It is enforcing a boundary.
Finally, the Tigers moneyline lost to Toronto 5-1.
That was our only wager that did not require a two-run victory.
Detroit appreciated the reduced responsibility and responded by losing by four.
Four games.
Four losses.
Three run lines have now been escorted from the building.
We no longer require impressive victories.
Win by one.
Win by accident.
Win because somebody dropped the ball while attempting to congratulate himself.
Just win.
The Giant Scoreboard
ALL SPORTS: 1,072-1,095-7 (23 away from being .500)
TENNIS: 1-1
Who the hell bets on tennis?
Today’s Picks
There are no run lines today.
The experiment has concluded.
We begin with the Astros moneyline, currently around -155.
Houston is tied for first place in the American League West and gets Kansas City at home. The price is not glamorous.
That is intentional.
Next, we’re taking the Tigers moneyline against the White Sox.
Framber Valdez has not allowed an earned run over his last thirteen innings. More importantly, Detroit has been granted one opportunity to apologize.
We’re also taking the Red Sox moneyline against Texas.
Sonny Gray enters at 17-5 with a 2.76 ERA and gives Boston the clearest starting-pitching advantage among the remaining evening games.
Finally, we’re taking the Bills -4.5 against Detroit.
Buffalo has home field, the stronger passing matchup and a Lions team missing two starting offensive linemen.
This is a point spread, but it is not a run line.
Our attorneys have reviewed the distinction.
The Four
Astros ML
Tigers ML
Red Sox ML
Bills -4.5
Four games.
Three moneylines.
One football favorite.
Zero requests for a baseball team to win by an aesthetically pleasing margin.
We would rather win a little.
The run-line department is closed.
Unlike Jenny Rose, the sign is coming down.
Bad Picks. Better Stories.
This isn’t called Pick What I Pick.
It’s called Don’t Pick What I Pick.
Please wager accordingly.
