down the road and into town

It takes a while to make your way up to Safford. I was surprised by the road construction and improvements to the road which use to be Hwy. 666; no fooling, we called it the 'Godless Way' when I was growing up there.




What use to be a drive up, down and over rolling hills, is now a super smooth and flat modern road into town. A lot safer but has lost (like much of America's roadways) its character.


Town comes into view!


First stop literally, as you come into town from the south was my two old residences. The old trailer was gone and the duplex where I helped Mr. Trajo pour a sidewalk were nowhere to be seen. The first sign of many changes to come this day.
However, I did fine the old dirt road which was next to where we lived. This is the dirt road I would run on as, believe it or not, I was a jock and ran to stay in shape. Many mornings and evenings alone, up and down this dirt road.





Somewhere on the left side of road was a huge old tree. Sad to see it is now gone.







This picture is merely a memory. As I ran all those times, there was a house on the hill. I would often look up there and think about where I would someday live. Well, it was in no home like it was, but I dreamed. That house is still up there on the hill.




The year was 1970, I was new to the town and in the 10th grade. No car yet. That meant you rode the bus until you felt comfortable enough to walk with a as yet unmade friend and you rode the bus. It was here, that I would stand and wait. Usually with a book in hand. I remember a few Doc Savages and Hubert's DUNE and indeed, a mostly unknown Phillip K. Dick and his Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, were partially read right here along this stretch of the 'Godless Hwy'. So long ago, and thankfully, I soon made friends and eventually got a car.

Yes, the water ditch was there along side a field. That sign is new. There are some memories right there. Cool mornings waiting for that stupid bus.



After that school year, Dad moved into Tucson but that did not pan out and we moved back to Safford for my Junior and Senior years of High School. This is the apartments we lived in. The last unit on the right. Really exciting right. I knew no better, all my life I have lived in either trailers or apartments. The first home I ever lived in was as an adult and was married. However, for 1972 and 1973; this was home sweet home.



You have to love the trash can and old stove on the roadside action here. Sorry, couldn't resist.

OK, come back tomorrow if interested.

Can you stand thrills?

It was to have been an album title(my age is reveled in that statement).

I am not sure when and where, but along I-10 from New Mexico/Texas border all the way to Picacho Peak north of Tucson; they sprang up on the roadside almost as plentiful and those yellow desert flowers seen all over. I remember in all of our family travels as I grew up, these wonderful tourist traps nee restaurants nee gift shops nee gas stations were a timely stop along the road for not only gas but usually a much needed stretching of the legs and usually a 'talk to a man about a dog'. Stuckey's comes to mind and with every visit my mom ALWAYS got a box of pecan brittle.

For some reason which I can not put my finger on, these little oasis on the roadside have become ablaze in my nostalgic reckoning like a classical pop art memory of certain paintings that never leave the minds eye. They radiate without neon and tend to proclaim 'OPEN 24 Hours'. They have amazing menu's of food never tasted, ice cream so yummy on a hot parched dessert trail with no end.

Stalls of little rocks with black fake satin bags to place them. Leather coats probably made by child or slave labor in some hapless country. Moccasins which you would be embarrassed to be seen in. Salt and pepper shakers in the form of anything you could imagine. Apple cider and bull whips to hang on the wall with rugs of Elvis and those dogs. Belt buckles and letter openers; the list is endless.

There is one such place on our journey today. It announces itself for miles with signs both East and West. In big huge black lettering in a font from a 1950's Drive In horror movie trailer....THE THING! One such yellow billboard long since gone asked without hesitation, Can You Stand Thrills?

I was happy to see, after all these years that the price of admission was still the same. In 1973 and as of this week; you can still be enraptured foe a mere $1.00USD. For a child, only .75 cents. I was blown away until I remembered that it probably was over priced still. Yes, I have plopped down the shekel to take the long walk. I was, ahhhh, hummm, well, I was, how does one say.... wtf? underwhelmed, LMAO pleased that it was not a lot to pay! Ahh, I jest; like most everything in life, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, well, you get the picture. If you do decide to see The Thing, be prepared to laugh with yourself.





I stopped, to pay homage to the trips of my youth, to look at things to purchase, to attempt a soft ice cream in a cup (I managed 2 or 3 spoon fulls), talk to a man about a dog and yes, I bought one of those long sleeve colorful wool style w/hood pullovers from Mexico for $5.39 USD. A bargain! Right?

As to the album, a friend and I from High School were into music and reading The Rolling Stone magazine in our striving to be somewhere other than where we were; saw the sign on a trip and laughed in unison and said out loud at the same instance; The Thing! Can you stand thrills?...what a great album title. Smiling for miles, we spoke of music and of the tensions in our little world of 1973. It was a magical time and it's too bad I blinked.

Next time, a turn North on U.S. Route 191 and a city comes into view.

and I went back to a nostalgist mind

I had been thinking about going back to the town I went to high school in for a while now. Probally as a result of finding so many friends from high school on 'FB'. I had made a quick trip through Safford once in the early nineties but the real purpose that time was a camping trip on Mt. Graham. I had passed quickly and just had time to simply go down Main Street then it was out of town and back on the road.

I will admit that I took advantage of my mother being in Villa Capana convalescing from her fall; I packed some formula, my camera and down I-10 east bound I found myself. This is the first of several post regarding my trip and some of my thoughts along the road.



It had been so long that I had been out of town on anything other that medical related trips. Let me tell you; trips to Scottsdale and the Mayo Clinic for procedures, test and operations is just no vacation. Any way, packed and on the rode before the earth rotated and gave view of the morning sun, I was excitedly driving down the road for nothing more that the pleasure of doing so.


Pardon my proclamation of faith; but no where is there a louder statement of Gods presence than in the 'rising' of the sun!



Going east from Tucson, one flies by Benson and comes to a wonderful rock outcropping along the road called Texas Canyon. I remembered trips from my youth, way back in the 60's in the truck sitting next to my father moving to Tucson. We stopped here and dad told me the next stop would be Tucson.

I also recall a stop there the day Apollo 11 landed on the moon. I was in such a hurry to get into Tucson, so I could see the moon walk. (We did in fact make it in to and I watched Neil Armstrong's first steps while I was in a pool. But that's another story.)







No matter going East or West, there is something reassuring about those rocks along the road.







I get such a kick out of this sign; nothing says Welcome to Arizona like this reminder:



Well, a stretch of the legs and a quick downing of a can of vanilla, time to hit the road and head to our next stop.......... THE THING!

For my FPS gamer friends

Yet again, very soon, there will be an assault on game stores around the world. I have to admit that at some point I will indulge...just time is prodigious in its absence for me right now. I would thing my sons will indulge.
It will be interesting to see where this installment stacks up in the franchise and; how long this cash cow will sustain itself. (?)

the Hovel is this many, today!

 

It was three years ago that I started this blog. I had been posting to a web site for a while but was looking for a better, faster way to communicate. I decided to start this blog. It was originally just to be a way to get out some news as to how my cancer was progressing and just to amuse myself and spend a little time.

My very first blog post is here.

It quickly turned to being an open letter to my grandchildren. One big long this is who I am, this is what is on my mind, this is important to me; this is just of interest; here is what I told others about me and hello, I love you; all in one place for them to get a chance to know me. That’s why there really isn’t a single theme or linear approach to this blog. There isn’t one.

When one gets holder; being know becomes an important thought with respect to one’s on grandchildren.

As I sit here and write this, my mother, your great grand mother fell a few weeks ago and hurt herself. She is being transferred from Villa Campana where she has been recovering and will shortly be placed into a permanent care home. I am unsettled in this; however, I just can no longer extend to her the care and attention she requires. These past several years have taken their toll own both her and me. I want to tell you that I am tired, but I continue, as best I can to honor my mother and father.

Seems like life never takes a break and keeps coming in all its fury. Oh well, with God’s grace, I will endure. Remember, if it does not kill you; it can only make you stronger.

As you (any visitor) go through any post here, know that you are most welcomed. I have meet some amazingly wonderful people via this blog and the internet. You are encouraged to drop me a note, leave a comment and what I most hope for; that you find encouragement to live each and every day to the best of your ability. Just remember, you are opening and envelope and taking out a letter from me to my grandchildren. It’s OK, you are welcome to read along and hopefully enjoy the journey. I pray each and every day they will. I never grow tired of telling them that I love them. I just hope they remember that I was here, that I tried really hard and I want nothing but their happiness.

God Bless you guys. I really enjoy talking to each one of you.

If I could I would.

Thanks to one of my favorite feeds: awesome spaces comes this wonderful space. For some reason I felt compelled to share this. That doorway is just stunning and the light is marvelous. Something tells me that a cup of coffee outside on that patio would be a heavenly experience.

Man shall not live by pancake alone!

 

You may find this disgusting, however from my standpoint, which is one that does not consume in the normal fashion as most people; I am of interest in this. Scoff at me if you want for I consume via a tube and I imagine you do not. File under YET another reason I love Tokyo!

 

the info is here

 

 

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

 

      One of the most inspirational and uplifting secular books I have ever read. I was amazed and humbled by my conflicts in life as compared to Bauby's resolve to merely pass time and retain some humanity. 
      At times I cried, even wept; at times I cheered and yelled in support. With every word, sentence, paragraph I keep this prayer on my mind...'there but by the grace of God.' 
     I have a daily struggle against cancer and I have been brought to my knees by the fight with a fellow human being and their sheer will to have the simplest of decorum and happiness. I was inspired and yet ashamed by my own weakness to ever have had any audacity to have ever felt sorry for myself.
     If you are looking for inspiration,have the courage to read this account of a life most extraordinary. This book moves to the top of my recommendation list.

 

find it here and at other places

Denial est non a flumen in Egypt!

 

The following was delivered to my support group last night and read by Mindy.

 

Hello everyone,

I hate to be not as positive as I normally strive to be, but as the poet of old said... I think I have outlived my insurance companies desire to provide coverage for me any longer.

Years ago in a different life I worked and toiled and I paid my bills and I tried to put a little away for a rainy day. I strove to take care of myself and when I could I even tried to help others. I miss those day.

Several weeks ago now, the latest games started again. Attempts at discouragement and coverage denial puzzles laced with language worthy of a Harvard Law Degree or at the least; a tomb designer in ancient Egypt, began to occur again and again.

What has been most amusing is the rapid coverage acceptance / coverage denial flip flop letters which cross in the mail and are down right rude in nature. It's like in the Weimar Republic when the workers was paid every two hours to keep up with the continued escalation of prices. Only with me, it is keeping up with the denial of coverage.

As of this evening, I have had to cancel 3 doctors follow up appointments, one Petscan and any attempt to feel comfortable about my current status as a citizen in this country. There is also continued unpaid bills which were for service authorized by them.

Yes, I jest; however I am frustrated and I fear that my providers are committing murder by denial and I am their target for improving the bottom line.

As the old British general said in his thick accent, 'There is no tanks in War!"

I confess that I am now a non-producer and I do suckle from the troth of kindness from the good people of this great nation. I struggle with this fact every day. I am part ashamed and part confused. However, I tried to do the best I could when I could do it. I am tired and the insurance companies continue to trifle with my care.

Well, as I have stated before, my goal in life is to live one day longer than my mother. I hope she lives forever, that way I will bankrupt them by the sheer volume of stamps they have to use on all those confusing letters of denial.

Please forgive my ramblings. I love you all and I get strength and nourishment from knowing each and every one of you. You are my friends, my loved ones, my support group and I acknowledge you all as fellow human beings.

On thoughts about Tucson

     There is no patina upon my city. Nothing to surround it and protect it. Most old cities enjoy a certain shine, a glossy layer of existing families and historical stoops which exist to protect, to cleanse and to share in an appropriate way. They do the dirty work in the open light of everyday tourist who neither have the time nor the inclination to delve below the surface they are provided by these protectors, these saints of all things destined to be considered the truth.

     My city doesn't have any such service, any such museum staffed by educated and trained professionals who have an ever looking eye towards those dirty little secrets. I suppose we have a few, mostly superficial and in various stages of support or validly. Those secrets that are the dirt in the mud on a rainy day at the bottom of the dingiest alley go unprotected or remembered. My city has long been exposed to the harshness of an overbearing sunlight that decays the strongest structure, the best paved streets and the strongest of individuals. There are no societies willing to take broom and pan to dust, no historical guidance to ease and learn from the mistakes of the past.

     Oh, we have our share of strong towers headed into the sky. We have beautiful mansions and hovels barely more than a cardboard box. We have a river without water but bridges which span them, often unconsidered by the most inquisitive of commuters or pilgrims from afar. We have trees for parks, though mostly dead or dying, you see, our grass is brown.

     We have been here for thousands of years, with nothing to show. That's because its all blown away or laying in piles of dust pounded by wind and baked in the oven of time. This is my city, there is beauty in its decay and honor in its hardness to accept. This is my city; the city with no patina.

a world building exercise offered as mealy amusement.

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Edit Note: Upon a review by a reader, who I agreed with totally and confess laziness to choosing the word ugliness. I strike that and substitute and insert 'decay'. Thanks for pointing out my error.