Haboobs!

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Last night I tweeted (PaRock@Twitter.com) about a serious dust storm that had just raged through the Valley of Hell leaving thousands of homes without power. Good friend Mike Box, a Kansan who once lived in Arizona but got smart, responded with an email discussing the phenomenon of an "haboob" - one of those massive, dangerous dust storms that I had described.

According to Mike, "The haboob is a naturally occurring event in the Arizona Sonoran dessert and the Horn of Africa. Fortunately these things tend to happen during daylight and can be seen coming. The sky takes on a reddish yellowish cast as the storm front approaches. Visibility can drop to zero. If you are traveling in the city and see it coming, pull into a restaurant order a cup of joe and wait it out. On the other hand if you are on I-10 between the Capitol City and Tuscon, then pull over as far as you can off of the road. Then turn off, yes off, your lights and take your foot off the brake."

Mike's rationale for getting off the road and "going dark" was that as the road completely disappears during an event like this, not every driver is smart enough to stop driving. If your tail lights are on, some numb nuts may see them and assume that you are tooling on down the road - right up to the point where he rear ends your car!

Yesterday's was the third "haboob" that I have been through in Arizona. During two I was home and able to sit back and observe, much as one would marvel at a thunder and lightening storm in the Ozarks. But during one of the haboobs I was driving down Litchfield Road, a four-lane thoroughfare in the West Valley. I was almost home and didn't have the good sense to pull over. Tumbleweeds and a couple of lawn chairs flew across my path, but the force of the winds could have easily propelled larger items into the traffic flow - cars, trees, or even people. Getting home quickly is not worth the risk!

So now I must be on the lookout for scorpions, rattlesnakes, and haboobs. Will the list of Arizona terrors never end?

Talking the Talk

by Pa Rock
Social Observer

I just returned from a trip to our community center (the Circle K Quick Stop) where I noticed a fellow wearing an interesting tee shirt. He was standing on the sidewalk at a machine renting movies with his back to me. The man was sporting a black tee with bright yellow lettering that said "Ashes to Ashes - Be Tobacco Free." Being an ardent non-smoker, I planned to say something positive about his shirt as I stepped past him and into the store. The plan changed, of course, when I got to where I could see his face - and the cigarette dangling from his lips!

That's Arizona logic, I suppose. These folks are so hard-headed that they won't even take their own advice. "Ain't no tee shirt gonna tell me what to do!"

Arizona Gun Stupid

by Pa Rock
Sad Observer

A few days ago I "tweeted" (PaRock@twitter.com) about a couple of Arizona gun stories that had been in the local press that day. One was regarding a five-year-old boy who died as a result of firing a loaded gun that he came across in his home. The other involved a twenty-year-old male who found a pistol in a closet. He pointed the gun toward his head and pulled the trigger to prove to a friend that it wasn't loaded. He was wrong about that - but he did go a long way toward confirming Darwin's theory of evolution. Nature has a way of weeding out the inferior members of a species.

A friend of mine from back in the Ozarks who has a different view on the gun issue tweeted back and suggested that the story of the 5-year-old was an urban legend that occasionally surfaces to discredit gun enthusiasts. I will admit that the story sounded a bit contrived, but it did, in fact, actually occur in rural Maricopa County last Monday. The youth, described by a neighbor as a "sensible little boy," shot himself in the stomach and expired at a local medical center. Other neighbors described the family as "tight-knit and religious."

The doofus who shot himself in the head was in the Queen Creek suburb of Phoenix.

The sources for those stories are:

http://www.eastvalleytribune.com/story/141106

http://www.eastvalleytribune.com/story/141116

Arizona, and particularly the Phoenix area, has an abundance of stories like the two mentioned above. Phoenix, by virtue of it size (the fourth largest urban area in America), is bound to experience a large chunk of personal tragedy. But the odds of gun mishaps are increased dramatically by the continuing efforts of our state legislature to remove any and all restrictions on gun ownership, as well as the local citizenry's determination to handle guns on their own terms. Many see government safety suggestions or regulations - trigger safety locks, for example - as an intrusion into their private lives. It's often a case of "the gummint ain't gonna tell me what I can and cain't do with my guns!"

Until that attitude changes, more parents are going to be finding themselves in the personal hell where the parents of that five-year-old are currently residing.

Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys - because evolution will eventually win out.

The Arizona State Motto

by Pa Rock
Proud Arizonan

Arizona has an unofficial state motto: "The Grand Canyon State." It adorns most of our license plates and assorted postcards and souvenirs. Surprisingly, that little gem of a motto apparently was never officially adopted by the state legislature, and a move is now on to correct that oversight.

The story unfolded this way: A fifth grader in California sent an email to one of our prize state legislators asking if the state had an official motto. Upon researching the question, the legislator (or more likely his intern) discovered that our motto had never been officially made official. The amazing aspect of this story is, of course, the fact that the fifth grader happened to pick a legislator who could read - but, again, it was probably handled by his intern.

So, the legislator, who was between between gun bills, decided that this might be a non-controversial bill to sponsor. And now, if nobody bitches, "The Grand Canyon State" will soon become the official state motto of Arizona.

If nobody bitches...

Enter Pa Rock. "The Grand Canyon State" has got to be one of the lamest state mottoes ever - probably second only to "Ski Kansas!" So, in an effort to spare the great state of Arizona more than its normal share of embarrassment, I am hereby submitting the following ideas for the new (official) Arizona state motto. If you see one that you particularly like - or if you have a better one - please forward it on to any member of our state legislature - or, better yet, to one of their interns. (These are in no special or preferential order.)

Arizona:

America's Sandbox!
It's a Dry Heat!
Death Valley East!
Hellizona!
Rain! Rain! We Don't Need No Stinking Rain!
America's Rest Home!
Armed and Stupid!
Welcome to Hell on Earth!
Our Politicians are Dumber than Yours!
The Scorpion State!

And, should the city of Phoenix ever get the itch to have it's own official motto, I humbly propose the following:

Phoenix: Arizona's Other Big Hole!

H1N1, Swine, or Mexican?

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I received a shot for Swine Flu back in 1976 when Jerry Ford was President, and it must have worked because I never caught the dreaded and deadly malady. It was a huge deal then. Poor Ford was trying so hard to be relevant while Chevy Chase did skits pretending to be the bumbling President tripping and falling over everything in sight. Simpler days, those.

Actually the Swine Flue never materialized and the national drill of everyone rushing out to get shots in school houses and armories all over America served as yet one more reminder of just what a goof poor President Ford really was. Lyndon Johnson had commented once when Jerry Ford was a member of Congress, that he had played too much football without a helmet.

So now, thirty-three years later, the Swine Flue finally arrives. Arizona had its first reported case today, It is somewhat remarkable that it took so long to get here considering the long border that Arizona shares with Mexico - the country where the current outbreak originated. As of this evening ninety-some cases had been reported in a total of ten U.S. states, and there had been one death in this country - a toddler in Texas who had just arrived from Mexico.

There are also about a dozen countries where the Swine Flu has made a beachhead, most tracing its origins back to people who had been in Mexico. There are a few cases in Israel, and the Jews, who don't eat pork, are somewhat reluctant to call it Swine Flu. One Israeli politician suggested that it be referred to as Mexican Flu. Needless to say, that recommendation did not endear the state of Israel to Mexico.

American officials, to include President Obama, have today started referring to the flu by its scientific shorthand: the H1N1 Virus. I noticed that most of the newscasters have begun to use that label as well. I guess that I can understand that. After all, who would want to succumb to a flu named for a pig?

Good friend Xobekim forwarded a description of the symptoms. They involve a sudden urge to eat raw corn and roll in the mud!

'Nuff said.

Subtlety: Arizona Style

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This morning, while circling through McDonald’s for breakfast, I pulled up behind the bravest and/or dumbest person in the whole God-forsaken and scorpion-infested state of Arizona. I couldn’t see the driver of the dark red Ford Focus, but I didn’t have to see him (or her) to know that I was on the tail of someone who wasn’t bashful about sharing his (or her) opinions, regardless of their likelihood of inciting a fistfight or a bloody hate crime.

No, it wasn’t a bumper sticker promoting gay marriage, taxing the church, or the confiscation of handguns - it was something at least equally as controversial as the aforementioned, but it was on a specialized and personalized license plate.

Arizona has a couple of dozen types of specialized plates covering everything from honoring war veterans, to recognizing membership in any of several Indian tribes, to proclaiming the importance of following the Golden Rule. Each of these plates cost an extra $25 per year, of which $17 goes to whatever cause the particular plate supports. It’s a nice way to show support for something via the license plate and the donation.

In addition to the subjects highlighted by the special license plates, for another fee the plate can be personalized with a message of up to seven letters. The state supposedly screens the messages to weed out those that might be obscene or objectionable. I say “supposedly,” because someone certainly missed the boat on the one I saw this morning.

The style of license plate on the red Ford Focus was “Child Abuse Prevention.” The plate is decorated with children’s handprints along with a statement, “It shouldn’t hurt to be a child.” So far, so good – right? The plate brings awareness to the serious issue of child abuse, and the sale of the plates helps to fund child abuse prevention programs. It is a sentiment that should not offend any sane and caring person.

The problem arose with the personalized message that the individual had imprinted on their child abuse prevention license plate. It was only five letters, but that small word certainly packed a wallop.

The message: ABORT!

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

,

by Pa Rock
Desert Rat

Arizona has two basic weather conditions: warm and hot. Arizona "warm" is hot in most of the rest of the world, and Arizona "hot" is melt-your-liver hot. Those native to this hellhole spice up their food with jalapenos and liquid fire sauces that bake their bodies from the inside while the sun bakes if from without. It's a crazy culture that has been out in the sun way too long.

There are also three or four days a year when the wind blows to beat hell across the desert. Today the sky got so brown that the ubiquitous mountains off in the distance were hidden from view. Lawn chairs and tumbleweeds were blowing across the major thoroughfares with wild abandon. If all of that wind were to come roaring into the Midwest, it would be the harbinger of an impending storm. In Arizona, however, it signifies nothing. I guess that it could mean that the seasons are fixing to change, and if that is the case - God help us!

Summertime in the desert. I will be moving into my new place in a couple of weeks. My lawn chairs (two) are made out of a heavy steel mesh. I plan to put them in a shady spot out behind my elegant trailer, right next to a killer lawn sprinkler. If you come to the front door and I'm not answering, check around back. I will be just one more potted palm in this cruel, cruel desert!

You Go Girl!

Dear Governor Napolitano,

The news programs have been trumpeting your selection as the next Secretary of Homeland Security all day. I guess congratulations are in order. It’s a great day for the country, but a sad day for Arizona.

The rest of the nation will soon learn what we have known for years – that you are a fierce and determined public servant who is not afraid to wade into the issues and get things straightened out. Right now much of the nation’s security focus seems to be on guarding the border – the southern border – an issue which you, as the governor of one of the four states that border Mexico, understand well. But it will be your common sense and ability to engage your political opponents in positive change that will serve you and our country the most.

And those talents and abilities are the things that the people of Arizona will miss the most. Your tact, laser focus, and popularity have combined to bring progressive changes to this state in spite of having to constantly dance with a Republican legislature. Losing you will be like a ship losing its rudder.

This is an exciting time for the country. My children’s and grandchildren’s future is in the hands of President Obama and the highly creative and capable people that he is bringing to Washington, DC. I know that you will make us very proud!

With Best Wishes for Every Success,

Pa Rock
Goodyear, AZ

P.S. If you can’t get that hateful wall torn down, at least try to get the construction stopped. Maybe the part that is already up could be used as an art project by school children to celebrate international peace and understanding. I’ll donate some paint and brushes. We need to be building bridges, not walls!

Death by Gun

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I heard a statistic on the radio this evening: thirty-two people are killed with guns every day in the United States. That's it. Thirty-two. It's only a number, and not a very big one, unless, of course, one of those thirty-two is you or someone you love. Thirty-two people's lives come to a sudden end in America each day as bullets rip through their bodies. But generally they are other people's bullets and other people's bodies, and those shootings basically don't register on our collective consciousness.

So let's make it somewhat more personal. I want to talk about two murders by gun that occurred in a small town in Arizona last Wednesday evening. It was in the community of St. Johns, AZ, and the murdered men were Vincent Romero, 29, and his friend, Timothy Romans, 39. I don't know much about these guys, only what has been in the news. I know that Romero was a divorced man who had custody of his eight-year-old son. I also suspect that he probably wasn't a very good parent.

You see, Romero and Romans were murdered by the eight-year-old Romero boy, apparently with malice aforethought. Mr. Romero had a gun in the house, either unsecured or poorly secured, and the young boy, who possessed knowledge of how to fire it, took that gun and deliberately killed his father and his father's friend.

Before I get to speculating too freely, you need to understand something about Arizona. This state is gun crazy. The citizens of Arizona have been gun crazy since the days when the Clantons and the Earps went at it in Tombstone. These people love their firearms. They flaunt them, they conceal them, and they use them as props in their lovemaking and masturbatory rituals.

I'm not a fan of guns - never owned one and never will. As far as I'm concerned, the lack of guns in my home makes me somewhat safer than those who maintain personal arsenals. If someone breaks into my house, they had better be after books. Chances are when those guys break in, we'll all sit down and have a literary discussion. A house full of guns, on the other hand, attracts criminals. If some old codger of a homeowner pulls a gun on home intruders, he needs to be ready and capable of using it. More often than not, that isn't the case.

The elderly and guns are a bad combination, and an even worse pairing is kids and guns. I write to several people in prison. One of my correspondents gained notoriety as a "school shooter" more than a decade ago. This young man was fourteen when he went to school one morning and killed several of his fellow high school students. He is now in his mid-twenties and has lived in a cage every day since his awful crime. He is a man rotting in prison over a crime committed by a boy. He had easy access to guns in his upper-middle class home, and he made a fateful decision that ruined the lives of several families, including his own, and made an emotional imprint on hundreds of his friends and classmates that will be with them for life.

The little Romero boy is currently in jail. He probably won't face a life in prison, but his crime will be with him for the remainder of his life. Even with sustained therapy, it will have a significant impact who he becomes and how he lives. His crime will be with him to some degree until the day of his death. A crime committed by an eight-year-old will cast a shadow across his lifetime and the lifetimes of those who knew and loved his victims.

We will learn more over the next few months about the things that drove this little boy to kill his father and another man. He was troubled, of that we can be certain. Kids aren't born troubled, they become that way through their experiences in life - and some of his experiences were obviously very bad ones.

Bad experiences and easy access to guns can be a recipe for death, regardless of age. And yes, you Arizona macaroons, guns do kill people!

Arizona Sizzle Starts to Fizzle

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The heat, the unbearable essence that is Arizona, has finally started to waver in its intensity. Oh, daily highs are still in the nineties, but it has only been a few weeks ago that 110 degrees was the norm. Now, especially at night, the air is carefully edging toward what I would call "delightful."

Last night I had to drive across Phoenix. My windows were down, the radio was playing some very good jazz, and life was a breeze. I had business at the beautiful Arizona Grand Hotel, a place that caters to high-end business travelers and the moneyed scions of Arizona. I marched into the lobby wearing my Obama tee-shirt with the self-assurance of one who couldn't be intimidated by blue-haired crustaceans with money. But there were no raised eyebrows. Everyone was just chilling and enjoying the fine Arizona night.

Today I barbecued. Cooking for one is usually a waste, but when I barbecue my rule is to overdo it and then make my meals around the bounty for the rest of the week. Again, the weather was beautiful. I set out in our covered outdoor patio with built-in grills, cooked for most of the afternoon, and read from one of my many good books. The weather, once again, was wonderful!

If everyday in Arizona could be like today, I would unpack and plan on staying awhile!

Arizona Votes

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I telephoned the Elections Office in Maricopa County today to ask if there was a way that I could determine if my mail-in ballot had been received and tallied. After ten minutes of listening to recordings and pressing numbers, I finally reached a human. I told the young man that I had mailed in my ballot three weeks ago. Would there be, I asked, a list of voters who had actually voted posted somewhere after the election so that I could ensure that my ballot had been received? "What is your name, sir?" he asked politely. After I told him, there was a pause for a few minutes, and then he came back on the line and told me that my ballot had been received and counted. Mail-in voting is so easy and so convenient!

Estimates are that one-third of the national electorate may have already voted by election day. Thirty states have some sort of early voting process, and I suspect that they will have fewer problems on election day than those states that cram all of their voters into one twelve-hour period. There certainly should be less waiting and hassle in places where citizens have been allowed to vote early. Who knows, election day might be one of the two or three days a year that we have rain in Arizona!

The Obama campaign began doing television advertising in Arizona today, after most polls moved the race from "solid McBush" to "lean McBush." John McBush has homes in several states, and some of the locals feel that he is more transfixed on life in Washington DC than he is on life in Arizona. Some wags refer to Arizona's Senator Kyl as our "workhorse" and McBush as our "showhorse." So long-story-short, McBush is losing ground in his home state and Obama is going to give him a run for Arizona's ten electoral votes. It's about damned time!

MSNBC reported tonight that McBush has a one-point lead in the polls in Arizona, and that Obama is twelve points ahead of McBush in the state's early voting. My call to Maricopa County today ensures that I am part of that twelve-point lead.

John McBush is up for re-election to the US Senate in two years. If he chooses to run again, Arizona's most popular politician, Governor Janet Napolitano, will send him to Sun City for a long-overdue retirement!

I am hoping for a surprise Obama visit to Arizona over the weekend. It's a shame that he doesn't have time to visit Alaska as well!

Selling Earth's Treasures

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There are many ways to make a living, the art of collecting enough wealth to live on. Most of us have jobs, and most of those jobs center on manufacturing products for sale, or providing a service for sale. Another approach to making a living is crime, the act of taking something that doesn't belong to you for purposes of making money. The criminal activity might focus on stealing an object, an idea, or wealth itself. One additional way of generating wealth, often in much greater excess than what it takes for a comfortable existence, is to commandeer the Earth's treasures and natural resources and market them to the public.

I'm not saying that taking the world's oil, for instance, is necessarily a criminal activity, though it is becoming easier and easier to make that argument! There is work that goes into that activity that justifies some of the price - drilling, refining, distributing, etc. But an activity that generates that much profit (billions of dollars each quarter) is necessarily fraught with shady practices - oil lobbyists buying politicians or remodeling the home of a certain powerful Alaskan Senator, for example - or spending tons of money to make sure that alternative energy strategies don't make it to market in a meaningful way - or encouraging immoral wars to enable better pipeline routes across the middle east.

There are other groups equally concerned with selling off the planet's resources. Enterprises such as lumber companies and the fishing industry profit greatly by cutting and netting as much of their "product" as quickly as possible without any sensible plan for meeting the needs of future generations.

Today I heard of an outrageous case of the systematic theft of our natural heritage. The giant saguaro cacti of Arizona, often twenty feet or more in height, are being uprooted in the desert and wholesaled to landscapers. The expense of this operation is almost nil because it is based on theft, but the rewards are significant. Giant saguaros aren't like pretty desert bushes that can be grown en masse in greenhouses. They take many decades to grow to a decent size, and the most practical way to acquire one is to drive into the desert as night and steal it.

Recently seventeen giant saguaros were uprooted one night near Phoenix. At that rate, it won't take many years before these kings of the Arizona desert are all concealed behind the fences of suburban home owners.

The state of Arizona has come up with a plan to at least slow this criminal activity, and hopefully stop it. The idea is to insert computer chips in the cacti that are still in the desert. Then when a cactus disappears, they will be able to track its movement through the thieves, landscapers, and receiving homes.

Maybe when this system goes into operation, landscapers and homeowners will begin to ask questions about where their giant saguaros originated, and a lucrative market will dry up. The threat of jail, after all, can be a powerful motivator to behave in an honorable manner!

Man needs to move decisively to protect the planet from his evil twin. Earth's bounty belongs to us all.

They're Back!

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Arizona's state bird, the blue-haired snowbird, has started its annual migration into the Valley of Hell. They flock here from all over the United States and Canada seeking a place to park their RV's and flabby rears in the winter sunshine.

I was in a convenience store earlier this week when I realized the invasion had begun. Normally, that little store might have a maximum of six customers during a "rush" period, but that day there were three long lines of seniors (most of whom were decades older than me!) pushing their carts, each and everyone heaped to overflowing with alcohol, toward the checkout counter. I mean to tell you they were emptying the booze counters and coolers of that little store! It was as if they didn't have liquor where they came from, and while they were wintering in the desert, they were determined to drink it dry!

When I finally made it to the checkout counter, I felt and acted on the need to apologize to the clerk for not buying any booze. "That's all right," she told me. "I'll check you out anyway." We then commiserated over the fact that neither of us had been invited to any of the snowbird parties.

But, it's going to be a long, hot winter, so we may make it onto some of the guest lists yet!

Around this Wretched Desert

by Pa Rock

The summer is quietly slipping into fall in the Valley of Hell. Today the temperature barely reached 100 degrees, and tonight it will cool down to the low eighties or upper seventies. Before we know it all of the snowbirds will be back and people will begin hanging Christmas lights on the cactus.

I have been house-hunting the past few evenings after work. Most decent apartments are around a thousand dollars a month. I have found one that will do. I also did something today that I promised myself I would never do - I looked at a mobile home. It is a three bedroom, two bath in a well kept park. The older home has a sticker price of $14,000 and lot rent is $355 per month. It was a very comfortable setting. I was tempted, sorely tempted. But then reality bit me in the butt and I remembered that I already own two homes in Missouri - did I really need a third located way out west in an area that I hope to one day leave? Of course not.

There are things about apartment living that I like: no upkeep indoors or out, no taxes, cheap insurance, and when something breaks - call the landlord. There are things that I miss, though, about not living in one of my houses - being able to dig and plant in the yard, having a pet, and knocking out the occasional wall. It's all a trade-off. I think my objective right now is to bounce around until I find the place where I would like to retire.

Maybe in the spring I will spend some time in Puerto Rico or St. Lucia.

Summer in Hell

Arizona is under a heat warning for the next couple of days. When they go to the trouble to issue a heat warning in hell, you know it's really going to be hot! On a normal summer day in Arizona I run from one air conditioner to another. I guess this means that I will have to run extra fast this weekend!

I am planning on spending the mornings inside working on my blogs, then maybe occupy the early afternoons at the air-conditioned gym. Late afternoons - when you could most easily pop popcorn on the asphalt - may find me at the movies. Right now I'm thinking Dark Knight and Mama Mia, but I'm flexible and may surprise myself by seeing something unexpected.

It is so hot in Arizona that people put little booties on their dogs before taking them outside! Cats won't wear booties, but cats are too smart to go outside anyway!

Snooty McSnobby

Cindy McBush recently made the following outrageous statement to CNN: “In Arizona the only way to get around the state is by small private plane.” Oh really?

Well, Princess, I’ve lived in Arizona for nearly a year, and I’ve yet to find any community, no matter how small or remote, that is not serviced by a road. Perhaps you need to get over yourself and see the USA in your Chevrolet – or Ferrari, or Porsche, or Bentley. I’m sure that your chauffeur could get you where you need to go!

The High Cost of Life

by Pa Rock
Kibbitzer

I just returned from a mini-vacation to San Diego. The last time that I was there, I was ten-years-old. It's still a beautiful place, but the times they are a changin'!

The price of a first class stamp went to 42 cents today. The last time that I was in San Diego, the cost of mailing a first class letter had just jumped from three cents to four cents, and people were talking about what an outrage that was!

Also, fifty years ago you could buy gasoline any place for 29 cents a gallon - or less. Today it is selling for over four dollars a gallon in San Diego. I managed to hold my breath and coast into Arizona this afternoon where the gas was a steal at only $3.75 a gallon! I was able to fill my tank for a mere $50.75! When I bought that little car it would barely hold $20.00!

I realized during this short trip that the price of gas is having a major impact on travel and tourism. I make that statement based on the lack of recreational vehicles that were in evidence on the roads that I travelled. My round trip to the coast was approximately 700 miles along a major interstate highway. During all of those miles, I saw less than a dozen RV's! I predict that the high cost of gasoline is going to make the sub prime mortgage racket look like small potatoes by the time it filters out across our already ravaged economy.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could find another oil man to serve as President!

Obama '08!

No Calls - Or Else!

When the national "No Call" list was first initiated, I got my name on it the first day. No calls, no problems, it worked wonderfully! I tried in vain to get my Dad to put his name on the list, but he's old and he gets some enjoyment listening to people prattle on about things he has no intention of buying. (I think he also reads his junk mail!) Good for him, but I have more important things on which to waste my time.

I never renewed by "No Call" registration after leaving Noel a few years ago, and until I got to Arizona, it was never a problem. Out here, however, telephone solicitations are a savage business. And what are they selling? Condos. Mondo condos! Every evening I get one or two calls from some chirpy young person who gives their first name, and then follows up with "How are you doing tonight?" And I tell them. Boy howdy, do I tell them! If they can ruin my supper, or television, or sleep, I want the satisfaction of knowing that my sadistic, blood-drenched response, always personalized with the use of the cretin's name, may weave its way into his or her dreams late some night when its very, very dark.

This week I finally relented and signed up for the "No Call" list at: www.nocall.gov. It will take 30 days to kick into effect. Until then, sleep well my lovely telemarketers! I'm coming for you - and I have a chainsaw!

Greetings from Arizona

Spring is less that two weeks old, and it is already becoming uncomfortably hot in Arizona. In fact, Arizona only has two seasons: hot and not so hot. It is heating up so quickly that the snowbirds will soon start packing up and returning to their homes in Missouri, and Minnesota, and Maine, and other places that boast four seasons instead of two.

The cacti are blooming, and they are beautiful! Yesterday I watched as a hummingbird flitted from bloom to bloom on a large cactus. The orange trees are littering the sidewalks and driveways with their sweet fruit, and the grapefruit are starting to drop as well.

Arizona is still gun crazy. The state legislature spends an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out ways to get all citizens to arm themselves. This in a state where you can't buy a firecracker! Go figure! Maybe heat makes you stupid!

And, to frost the cake, a local is running for President. John McBush thinks he is going to move into the White House. McBush will probably carry Arizona because the average state age is about 90, and many would like to give the "kid" a break!

Meanwhile, me and the scorpions will hunker down in the shade of a sun-scorched cactus and enjoy the hot season.

A Good Day in Arizona!

A friend from Ft. Campbell, KY, sent me an email this afternoon. She lamented that it was snowing there for the second day in a row, and that all of the area roads were icy. I immediately wrote back and told her how badly I felt for her and all of my old friends at Ft. Campbell. Then I went on to add that it was eighty degrees in Arizona and I put the top down on my little convertible when I went to lunch today. She never wrote back after that!

I miss winter - just a little - but I am going to Washington, DC, in a couple of weeks and will probably get a dose of it there. I hope that it is nice, though, because I want to get over to Baltimore and have seafood at one of their beautiful restaurants on the harbor.

The last time that I was in our nation's capital was in 2003 when my friend Millie Crossland and I went to see one of my son Tim's plays that was being presented in a competition at the Kennedy Center. Millie and I managed to get over to Baltimore where we had a great seafood dinner and a boat ride with Michael Hyman, my roommate from the Russia trip.

I was also there in 1999 with my social work classmates from the University of Missouri. We developed positions on a set of issues and proceded to lobby Missouri's Congressional delegation. During that trip I also went to the outdoor inauguration of the new Teamster's President, James Hoffa, Jr. It was being held next door to our hotel and I just admitted myself to the boisterous gathering. I met a lot of very interesting people there! One member of our social work group had a cousin who flew Al Gore's plane, and he got us night time passes to tour the White House. We saw it all, from the kitchen to the Oval Office. Later our Navy tour guides joined us downtown at the bars! One other highlight of that trip occurred when we got off of the tram from the airport and were dragging our baggage to the hotel - looking somewhat like the Beverly Hillbillies. As we were crossing a street, one of our group saw Vice-President Gore walking out of a building where he had been attending a fundraiser. He jogged to his limo and then made a point of waving to our group and smiling as he was chauffered by us. Big Al was almost skinny in those days!

But, back to the topic of Arizona. It is what it is - a beautiful place to spend the winter!