In 1967, a woman’s car got a flat tire. The owner of the car was one 43-year-old Marta Becket, from New York City. And her car’s tire just happened to go flat near the abandoned, dilapidated Amargosa Hotel and Corkill Hall, at Death Valley Junction.
Marta Becket was a ballet dancer, actress, choreographer, and painter. She had been in the corps de ballet at Radio City Music Hall. And she had been a Broadway actress, appearing in Show Boat, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and Wonderful Town. And later, after age had weathered her complexion and Broadway no longer wanted her, she started her own one-woman show, which she performed in small theaters and school auditoriums all over the country.
Marta stood near her flat tire and surveyed the desert landscape that surrounded her. She absorbed the barren crags of the Funeral Mountains to the northwest, the undulations of the Greenway Range to the southwest, and the spreading Nopah Range to the east. She regarded the broad, flat floor of the Amargosa Valley, and the dry watercourse of the Amargosa River, running through it. And she took note of the short and sparse shrubbery that covered this valley floor.
And somehow it seemed like she’d found her destiny.
Then she turned her attention to the dilapidated U-shaped building. The Spanish-colonial designed Amargosa Hotel and adjoining Corkill Hall that had been built and abandoned by the Pacific Coast Borax Company. And she got a crazy idea. She would stay put, right there.
Sure, service is slow getting your tire repaired in the middle of nowhere. But that’s not why Marta decided to stay. No, she was following an inspiration, and on an impulse decided to act on it.
She located the owner of the hotel, and rented Corkill Hall. Then she renamed it the Amargosa Opera House, and got busy renovating it. And on top of making it hospitable for human attendees, she put her artistic talent to work.

She painted the ceiling with cherubs, and on the walls she limned a wrap-around mural, depicting Renaissance figures of nobility, seated as an audience in tiered galleries. It was an audience she imagined might attend Shakespeare’s Globe Theater.

This would be her audience. An audience that would always show up, and never leave a seat empty. An actress’s dream come true.

Marta’s neighbors regarded this invader from New York City with a mix of droll curiosity and head-scratching bewilderment. And by neighbors, I mean those living within, let’s say, a 50-mile radius. Because that’s how sparse and spread out the population is, in that neck of the desert. But even so, everybody knew everyone there, and anytime anything unusual happened, such as the current goings-on at the Amargosa Hotel, word spread like wildfire, and everyone found out.
One curious neighbor, with a particularly snooty attitude, with whom Marta would have frequent run-ins over the next several years, ventured into the former Corkill Hall and found Marta up on a ladder, busily painting her mural. She stiffened up and barked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Marta replied that she was painting a mural for her opera house that would be opening soon.
“But why?!” she sounded confused and exasperated.
“Why not?”
“But it’s not PRACTICAL!” she protested.
Marta had to chuckle. Little did this poor flibbertigibbet realize that the scene she was making would one day become part of a future repertoire.
Not practical. Marta had a lot to teach the world, at her opera house in the middle of nowhere, and this was one lesson. Not practical. Isn’t that what life is all about? The living spirit goes well beyond that which is practical.
Why do coyotes howl? Why do crows perform aerial stunts on windy days? Why do bloggers write posts?
We do that which is practical in order to maintain life, so that we can keep doing that which is impractical. Impractical is what life is all about. Without impractical, we’d never want to be practical.
This is the latest installation of my series, The Amazing Amargosa. Come on back in a few days for the next installation, entitled, Chapter 9, Part 2: The Sitting Down Show . Click here to read the previous installation. Click here, to start at the beginning.
Categories: History, Series (History): The Amazing Amargosa
She reminds me, in some respects, of my father. He was very strong in the arts at school, and went on to become a scenic designer/artist for a theatre company until the advent of television, and the resulting collapse of theatre (late 1950’s). He switched from repertory theatre to seasonal work … being the only kind available, but always wanted his own home for us all. He had a very basic knowledge of construction from his Dad who had worked for a construction company. One evening, I overheard him and Mom having a discussion about our situation (we lived in a trailer at that time), and I remember hearing him say ” We’re never going to be able to afford our own home, unless I build the damn thing myself!”
He then made friends with a number of local builders who had projects near us, and he came home from the library with a pile of books! He built our first home and, after he was finished, he commented that it was much easier than he expected, and that he wanted to build another one (of a more striking design)! He did!
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TV changed the landscape of entertainment in a big way, and actors like your father got the short end of the deal.
But he sounds like he was a smart man, if he was willing to educate himself and build his own home. I like that he took it upon himself to make his vision of a home come true.
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His position was that it was all knowledge based, and little more. i.e. If he knew what “you” knew, then he could do everything you can do! His first step was therefore to learn from the builders and the books! He was quite a role model. 🙂
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Seems to me like you’re lucky to have had such a father. I think it would be nice if every kid had a role model like that.
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Agreed … but he also arrogant, and became violent regularly. Not such good role modelling in those contexts! 🙂
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Damn, that’s too bad. Nobody is a perfect role model, but violence sets a dangerous example. I hope you were able to see the shortcomings of it, early on, and avoid going down that path.
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Took me awhile, and when I realized that destroying stuff was expensive.
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Life teaches hard, but valuable lessons.
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OOH I like her! She was one who didn’t just dream, but she acted on it. A flibbertigibbet! 🙂
And yes, I agree, being impractical is a lot of what life is all about!
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I don’t know if I’d call her a flibbertigibbet, but she dealt with one for several years, who seemed to be her constant critic.
I like being impractical. It has good uses.
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I was just referring to the fact t noticed you using the name. Jim will be proud. 🙂
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I love the word. It aptly describes some people.
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Totally does!
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I love her positive attitude and her creativity. I am hoping part 2 lets us know if the opera house was successful and if it still exists. The artwork is wonderful as well…
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And did you notice the flibbertigibbet word! 🙂
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I did see that – the word is spreading like wildfire… 🙂
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Whoops, I’d better get busy on Part 2. Yes, I think she was a pretty good artist.
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Michelangelo’s got nothing on her…
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How anyone can paint a ceiling without getting a eyeful of paint is beyond me.
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Your partner probably can, but you would have to open the can for her, and stir the paint, and get her ladder of some sort, and all before you are allowed to nap.
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I suppose I’d also have to explain to her what a paintbrush is, and how to use it. Then once I’m napping she’d wake me up by shouting a request to help her down from the ladder.
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… and “Honey …. will you clean the tray and brushes?” (“No” is not an acceptable response)
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Thats what husband’s are for, right!
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Or more like, “Sigh. I don’t know how to clean these brushes and I’m afraid they’ll be ruined. Sigh.”
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… and “Do you mind putting the lid on the paint can. You know you’re much better than I am with a hammer. Perhaps you could make a pot of tea when you have done that.”
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This is why a man’s job is never done.
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Exactly! “Never” is so true!
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Never, when I need a nap.
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Oh gosh!!
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We agree! It is amazing isn’t it!
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LOL!
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Haha!! The quote is “A woman’s work is never done!”
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That’s usually called a “misquote”. You really should take an ESL course.
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You just don’t give up hope on the ESL course, do you!
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And so, a man has to do it.
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😶🤚
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“And you know donuts would go really well with the tea, so run out and get some please.” 🙂
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No, I bet she can get down from the ladder just fine. And since you so kindly explained to her what a paintbrush is maybe she would show to you that she learned how to use it by painting your arm. 😄
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That would be the last time I ever mansplained anything to her. Her loss.
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Her gain, not loss. 🙂
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Oooh such hard work, you poor guys!
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My policy is, if my wife insists on choosing the paint color, then she can do the painting.
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Sounds fair to me, and if she is not too thrilled with the end result (“I don’t think it goes with the drapes?”), then you show total disinterest. 🙂
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Or you disagree with her and claim that it goes perfectly well with the drapes. Otherwise you’ll be heading down to the drape store, and shelling out big bucks for new drapes.
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They make things very complicated!
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Ooooh not us!
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They sure do.
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Dummkopf
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Schtupid.
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Well of course we choose the paint color, we know about colors! It might be scary to leave the choice to you guys! We need pretty colors. 🙂
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“WE need”?? How selfish … but typical I guess!
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Why can’t you just paint everything Navajo White? It makes life much simpler.
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Because white is boring.
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It symbolizes purity.
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But since when do walls need to symbolize purity?
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When you paint everything white out of pure laziness.
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No, no, no…institutional green. LOL!
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Are you insinuating that around here, that’s an appropriate color?
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Possibly…
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I don’t know why you’d insinuate such a thing. 🤪
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No insinuation. Just a random thought. Don’t worry. It will go away.
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And paint pretty flowers on the wall!
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I like that idea!
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maybe he was wearing a face shield…
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Invented by Leonardo da Vinci.
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Michelangelo?
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Yes. They knew each other.
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I know.
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that Da Vinci was ahead of his time…
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Apparently, he followed a code.
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He had to. His art was way over his head.
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Crosby, Stills, and Nash would have been proud…
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Good on her. There’s nothing quite like an artist with talent and vision. I certainly couldn’t do all the painting she did. Just…wow.
And, don’t ya’ just know that, every time you try to bring a vision to life, there is always that one “fly in the ointment.” Her naysayer must have a very boring life. Busy people rarely make a nuisance of themselves. Tell me she just grabs a fly swatter and goes “WHAP!” one good time.
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She had a bunch of naysayers, apparently. Her saga continues today, with Part 2.
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Hey TG – Got this message this morning from a woman, Go figure eh!
“You may be sleeping but I “yelled” your name. Brad was acting real happy before he went to bed and I found out the reason! Gee! I wonder who he got a certain link from! Yes I may have ….smacked my head!.. as he laughed.
I hope you sleep well in your deep hole! :)”
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Good job, Colin. For a few brief moments, Brad got to experience some happiness. That was so kind of you.
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I felt it was my duty to give him a few smiles! 🙂
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Oh gosh! “Your duty!” “Haha!”
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…mmm..! I see I missed some more comments.Thats the other problem with tag-teaming, you all put comments anywhere! “For a few brief moments…” Yes, his happy moments are so rare! 😛
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We’re like the Easter Bunny. We hide comments all over the place.
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There needs to be a rule against that. LOL! I am sure that I have missed some!
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I think you have. We get bonus points for every comment you miss.
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So I should get bonus points then for every comment I don’t miss!
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It doesn’t work that way.
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So how do I get bonus points then?
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You don’t.
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Well thats no fair! Pftt!
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Geez, what a crybaby.
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😭😝
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