A Day in the Life of NYC

We just took a trip to DC to watch our baby son be awarded his Master’s Degree in International Communications from American University’s School of International Service. It was not my intention to continue blogging after our return from the southwest. However, as I continue to observe big and little things that pique my interest and poke at my brain cells, I find myself with an unanticipated urge to write them down and share them. Perhaps you will enjoy my random, sporadic notes about life as I see it.

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Those of you who’ve known us for years know how much we enjoy live theater, especially on Broadway. Our relatively frequent trips to Philadelphia and DC give us the chance to stop in NY when we have the extra time and foresight to buy tickets.

This time we saw an outstanding performance of Death of a Salesman, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. The cast was well-balanced and more than capable of supporting PSH’s commanding presence as Willy Loman. When PSH, as Willy, first trudged on stage with his back bowed by the weight of his sample cases, it took him a full two minutes to get to his front door and ultimately collapse in a chair at the kitchen table. The dejection and despondency expressed by his footsteps silently said more than any two minutes of dialogue could have  done. Before anyone had said a word I was already asking Bob for a Kleenex! Needless to say, the rest of the performance, dialogue-rich and well-paced, lived up to the opening scene.

New York is so fascinating to me. We generally go there to see a Broadway show or two, which means we tend to hang around the Times Square area. There is so much more, and we promise ourselves that next time we will get back to Soho, etc. Meanwhile, we realize that the "city that never sleeps" provides its visitors and denizens with its own clock. It's totally unnecessary to wear a watch or even check your cellphone.

We arrive around 2pm, and the streets are full of shoppers, preponderantly women, carrying their "Medium Brown Bags" from Bloomingdales and store-bags from FAO Swartz and other well-known merchants. Food carts on the corners are wafting their most delicious smells our way. We had a late breakfast and will be having an early dinner, yet it takes all our willpower not to pick up some falafel or sausage or just a hot, salty, fresh soft pretzel with mustard.

At our hotel, we can easily tell it's 3pm - check-in time - by the line of people wheeling their luggage to the checkout desk. Fortunately we were able to get in early.

It must be 5pm as there is a mass exodus of better-dressed people, including ourselves tonight (black slacks and top with scarf; ubiquitous navy blazer over blue shirt and khakis) headed toward restaurant row on W. 46th Street, trolling for a restaurant prior to a 7pm or 8 pm performance. The restaurants are well-trained for this, and food all but flies out of the kitchens.

There is also a parade of business people, heading home after a day of work, men with ties loosened and women wearing sneakers instead of their Blahniks, some ducking into the subway, some flagging down one of the multitude of cabs, and others fortunate enough to walk directly home.

At 630pm or 730pm, depending on the day and show time, the same people who had rushed toward the restaurants now line up at the theaters between 42nd St. and 52nd St. The queues are orderly and polite. As we walk to the theater we notice some of the street vendors closing up for the day, and others setting up to catch the post-theater crowd.

After the shows, between 10 and 11pm, the last of the street vendors push their wares and then finally close up for the night. All the coffee shops and bars are open and doing a bustling business. We make our way through and around piles of cardboard and garbage bags, waiting to be collected. We enjoy the obligatory nightcap of tea and Calvados, respectively, at the restaurant adjacent to our hotel before retiring to our room for the night.

It's about 530am, and neither of us is ready to wake up, but it's hard to ignore the garbage trucks picking up last night's mountains of deposits. Bob takes an early morning picture of dawn in the city. We look out the window to see the restaurant and business owners hosing down the now-cleared sidewalks. The street-sweepers drive by, readying the city for another day.

We go back to sleep, knowing that the early morning vendors and food carts are already setting up. By the time we get up, we can confirm that it is 7am by the parade of business people marching crisply, now toward their offices, ties tightened up again but Blahniks still in hand. Those with a free hand have stopped by one of the street carts now offering breakfast, and are sipping coffee, munching on a bagel, or holding one of those square cardboard carriers with food and drink to be eaten when they arrive.

At the same hour, the side streets are filled with delivery trucks. The sidewalks that just last night were heaped with garbage bags are now covered  with equally high mountains of boxes. Crates of pineapples, lettuce, and oranges compete for space with boxes of napkins. It takes so much to supply this amazing city. It's stunningly organic: boxes of supplies in the morning, bags of garbage at night.

We leave around 10am, and there is a bit of a lull, but from previous visits we know it doesn't last long. The bagel carts, almost magically, become sausage and falafel carts once again, anticipating the noontime rush of customers. The cycle starts anew.

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Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jog

We are home now.  It is Easter Sunday, and it's just the two of us here, preparing a dinner of chicken tacos, rice, and beans; the Southwest is still with us.

We logged 7600 miles.  Would we do it again?  You bet, in an instant!  We are already making plans to spend at least part of next winter in Arizona.  But more importantly, we enjoyed the journey as much as the destination.  It was educational, it was interesting, it was enlightening.  And it was fun!

We in the Northeast are so very insulated from the rest of the country.  We have the advantage of living in an area dense with institutions of higher learning.  Politics here tend to be very liberal, and although there are dissenting opinions here and there, overall it is a very homogeneous, left-leaning crowd.  It is so easy to forget that we are just a small part of a very large country with diverse culture and opinions.  Everyone should have the opportunity to drive at least past Ohio, and preferably past the Mississippi River.  And I do mean drive - flying doesn't count, because you miss so much along the way, whether it's a field full of corn or cows grazing or a wind farm or part of the dust bowl sprinkled with shacks that people live in - the road is the way to go to expand your views.

I learned a lot along the way - some big things, and some things that will help me out the next time I play pub trivia.  If you look for it, there is always something to learn.  We learned about rice growing in Arkansas; the ecology of the Southwest, including the many varieties of cacti; the vast amount of land that is open across the country; the great disparity between rich and poor; and the kindness of people in general.

There was a lot that we disagreed with, and many places we knew we could never live in because of the differences in culture and political views.  Despite that, we found friendly people everywhere, and many opportunities to talk about ordinary things that were common to everyone.  We spoke with bikers in New Mexico about the weather and the best route to Sedona.  We learned that Boston, rather than being seen as part of the "elite Northeast", was a very desirable destination.  People were eager to tell us about their trips to Boston, their experiences in Boston, or their desire to get to Boston someday.  We are very lucky to live here.

I left on this trip with a number of books on my Kindle, ready to be read.  I arrived in Arizona with all except one untouched - there was so much to see along the way that I read very little, afraid to miss things.  We were lucky to be driving a new and very comfortable Volvo, and I am fortunate that Bob is not only a very good driver, but enjoys driving.  After the first few days, it felt very normal to get up in the morning, hop in the car, and go.  Bob had little trouble driving 6 to 8 hours a day, and I had no problem sitting for that time and enjoying the road ahead. There was always something to talk about.

We had several books on CD with us, and I would highly recommend them for anyone traveling any distance.  It's good to have a variety of fiction and nonfiction.  We listened to a couple of Tony Hillerman's books as we drove through the Indian reservation areas.  It was fun comparing the locations in the books to where we had been or were going.

On a more personal note, driving for so many hours and being together, just the two of us, for so long, gave us an opportunity to talk without everyday distractions that we would otherwise have had.  There is a wonderful privacy and intimacy in driving.

Our time in Arizona was indeed special, being able to catch up with two college friends and meeting and getting to know the husband of one of them.  Being there for a couple of weeks instead of just a day or two was special beyond words, because it gave us so much time to just sit around and relax and chat, rather than always being on the go trying to cram in this or that tourist attraction - although we also did some of that.

As we said in the beginning, we are looking forward to going back next year, so we are looking to rent a house of our own for couple of months in the same area as our friends.  This will not only give all of us a little bit more privacy that is needed for that extended period of time, but also will allow us to act as hosts for our friends and family from back east.  We are really looking forward to it and hope it all works out.

This ends our saga.  I hope you have enjoyed these notes as much as we have enjoyed writing them down for our memory book.

Keep On Truckin' One Last Day

Between Nashville and Philadelphia we saw nothing but trucks.  Sometimes we felt as though we were the only car on the road. Occasionally, there was also rain.  We passed by a truck that had been on fire in the opposite lane; all that was left was a skeleton of the trailer.

Suddenly the traffic on our side of the road came to an abrupt halt.  We knew this had to be due to an accident of some kind but were not sure quite what.  Veering slightly to the left, we are able to see that a large tractor-trailer had slid across the slick road and was blocking both lanes.  Just before we had resigned ourselves to sitting there for hours, another truck decided to go around it on the grass in the median, carving a path for the rest of us.  We kept our fingers crossed that we would be able to get by before the police and rescue equipment arrived, since we knew they would take hours to clear up the mess.  We did, and made our escape to Lexington, Virginia unscathed.

The hotel in Lexington was just a Hampton Inn, but surprisingly, rather luxurious.  The main house, which held the registration office, was a beautiful, brick 1827 Manor house.  The rest of the hotel was also brick, built in the same style.  We were amused by one of the roads on the property labeled "horse traffic only, cars prohibited".

We spent a nice night there, and made our way to Blue Bell, Pennsylvania, the next day to stay with my sister and her family for a couple of nights.  On Thursday night we had a Seder celebrating the first night of Passover, which was actually on Friday night, but we did it a day early since that was the only day my niece was able to take off from work. A number of Paula's Jewish and non-Jewish friends attended.  It was most enjoyable, and we had delicious food.

On Saturday morning we realized we were actually heading home, after almost 6 weeks on the road.  It was an odd feeling - both greatly anticipated and somewhat disappointing that we couldn't continue our adventure for an indefinite period of time.  We reached home a little after 4 PM, and within an hour were on our way out again to another Seder at a friend's house in Acton. We had another enjoyable evening with a completely different group of friends, and finally settled back into our home around 10 PM.  It felt a little odd looking around at the walls that should have been familiar to us but were not, and we stayed up quite late doing this and that, but around 1 AM settled very nicely into our own bed.

And so to sleep.

Jambalaya and Gospel

The road to Nashville was long and straight.  We are getting to know route 40 really well.  There are trees by the side of the road in many places, but they're not very dense, and it's easy to see all of the farms beyond them on both sides.  They are growing some rapeseed, and probably cotton, but what we saw most were fields ready to be planted with rice. The rice fields are easily discerned by their unique preparation: as they are tilled, every so often an earth dam about 18 inches wide and equally high is created. The fields and dams are built so that they curve around, making quite a pretty pattern.  In the winter, the fields are filled with water so as to minimize soil erosion.  I learned that eastern Arkansas is the major producer of rice of the six states that produce it, and is responsible for 48% of the rice grown in the US!

I also saw my first armadillo along the way.  Unfortunately, it was a dead armadillo lying on its back by the side of the road, but I was pretty excited anyway.

We watched a crop duster fly back and forth across the fields for while.  It was obvious he was having a lot of fun at his work and must have been a very skilled pilot, as he was flying just 25 to 50 feet above the fields.  Whatever he was dusting the crops with was tinted yellow, and at the end of a pass he would emit a small white cloud to mark where he left off. I thought this was very clever, and at the same time realized just how many details like this go into so many endeavors I'm unfamiliar with.

For a large part of this trip, we have seen many religious billboards, with everything from Bible quotes to warnings that we would be going to Hell. Equally numerous, and sometimes directly next to these, were billboards advertising "Adult Superstores". What to say - wgo to sleep to want to say anything about our dinner at Chili's we have a picture of the tortillas havee were amused, bemused, and appalled.

When we got to Nashville, we quickly checked into our hotel and then headed off to the Grand Old Opry. It was just as we expected, with all the kitsch.  We walked around the grounds for a bit, looking at the azaleas and other plants in full bloom.

Before the show, we had dinner at Chuy's, a Mexican restaurant  in the adjacent mall  .Dinner was good - no better or worse than the Mexican food we had in Tucson or Santa Fe - but the highlight for me was that we finally got to have and see handmade tortillas!

At the entrance to the Opry was yet another sign I was surprised to see: "No guns allowed, even if you have a permit".  There was, however, no metal detector, so apparently there are a lot of people in Nashville who carry guns, but they're very honest.  Interesting.

The show itself was great.  Yet another thing I didn't know before this was that the Opry was one of the inspirations for Garrison Keillor's  "Prairie Home Companion". It was easy enough to see why - each of the shows is broadcast live on radio, so in addition to the performers they have an announcer who introduces them and also reads the commercials from the sponsors between sets. We were lucky enough to have the Oak Ridge Boys on the bill, along with an assortment of other performers singing everything from Hank Williams' "Jambalaya"  ("on the Bayou") to a variety of gospel songs.

Although country is not our number one favorite song genre, we had a wonderful time at the Opry, singing and clapping along with everybody else.  We're really glad we took the time to stop by Nashville.

I Miss Bill!

Sunday
What a change today!  In one day we dropped 5000 feet in elevation, from 7000 feet in Santa Fe to just under 2000 in Elk City, Oklahoma. And we also went from the nice, dry 10-20% humidity to about 55% here right now.  This is not really humid - but compared to what we had gotten used to in Arizona and New Mexico it smacked us in the face as we stepped out of the car.

Today and tomorrow are driving days as we make our way back east.  Tomorrow we expect to reach Little Rock, Arkansas, where we will go to the William J Clinton Library and Museum.

Monday
As we reach the eastern edge of Oklahoma, we realize that everything is green! When we came this way on Route 40 about a month ago, everything was brown and about to be planted.  Today the fields are brilliant green, or in some cases yellow with rapeseed (canola).  It looks like a totally different place. There are cattle everywhere (including lots of calves) and even a few bison.

Going farther east into Arkansas, we suddenly realize that we can no longer see the expansive landscape that we had gotten used to because there are trees on either side of the road.  It isn't quite like New England, but now we understand the comments that people from the Southwest make about feeling closed in when they reached the Northeast.  We don't feel that way, but it is a startling difference in just a short stretch of road.

We are staying in Little Rock at the Peabody Hotel, which bills itself as the only "4 star, 4 diamond, and 5 duck" hotel. They have a fountain in the lobby in which the ducks splash during the day.  Every afternoon at 5 PM the ducks march out of the fountain, down the red carpeted steps and around the red carpet to the tune of John Philip Sousa's "King Cotton"  march, into a large cage on wheels so they can be transported in the elevator to their evening abode on the ballroom level.  The promenade is repeated in reverse at 11 AM every day.

Today's agenda had only one major item on it, which was to visit the Clinton Museum and Library.  It is very inspirational, and I almost bought one of the "I MISS BILL" T-shirts.  But I got a mug instead.  Every exhibit, and every stop on the self-guided audio tour is narrated by Bill.  Listening to him, being reminded of what an amazingly charismatic speaker he was, and remembering his accomplishments in office, makes one wish for many more politicians of his caliber.

Little Rock has an area along the Arkansas River, just the other side of the Clinton Museum and extending for about five blocks, called "River Market". Many restaurants and shops, and fun to browse around. It seems like a very nice small city. We walked along the river path, and looked at all the plantings and sculpture.  It was a barge that caught Bob's attention and interest.

We have shared the hotel with a very large contingent of Arkansas youth here for the FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America) competition. They have to present business plans, interview for (mock) jobs, and participate in business simulations. I don't know how many PowerPoint presentations they have to do; despite all this they seem to be the normal exuberant high school kids you would see anywhere. Just so many of them in one place...

Do You Know the Way to Santa Fe?

Now that it's been through one carwash, the car looks like a car! It's going to need a couple more. There is even dust in the crevices under the hatch lid where a carwash won't reach, but the dust did. Perhaps we can get the dealer to detail it when we take the car in for its 7500 mile checkup the day after we get back (!). We are over 5000 miles now (!!).

Before we could get out of Cortez, I made Bob stop at the Notah-Dineh trading post where I bought a beautiful Hopi pot I had hoped to acquire on this trip.

We did not have an agenda today other than to enjoy the beautiful back-country and two lane roads as we meandered through southern Colorado and New Mexico on our way to Santa Fe.  The mountain parks transformed gradually from green ponderosa pine and grasses to dusty scrub as we approached Santa Fe.

Our hotel was old, cozy and quaint, right near the Plaza, so we were able to walk to just about everything.  At four o'clock they serve Sherry, and we had a nice conversation with various folks from Idaho, West Virginia, and even a woman who came from Perkasie, Pennsylvania, not too far from where I grew up in Willow Grove. The folks from West Virginia were part of a group who are actually a "club" that supports the Art Museum in Charleston. I wasn't totally clear on how they raise their money, but every year or two they go on a trip (that they pay for themselves) specifically to acquire new pieces for the museum.  The woman I spoke with was very animated and explained that she actually had no background in art, although many of the people in the group had studied art history, but that over the years she has learned a lot and finds the trips as educational as they are fun.  Sounds like a great way to spend time!

The hotel room also had a working fireplace in the shape of a Navajo kiva oven, so we enjoyed a real fire each night.  It was great, and in the morning the maid service later new fire for us already to go.

We had a nice dinner at La Plazuela, sitting next to the fountain in an inside "Plaza" reminiscent of many that I have seen in Mexico.  Our waitress's name was "Stormi" so we had a good laugh over our respective names.

The next day we went to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum, and were given a brief talk by one of the docents prior to looking around the museum.  What a fascinating woman she was!  She lived until she was 99, and worked into her 80s, albeit with some assistance at that time, since she had developed macular degeneration.  During her marriage to the much older photographer Alfred Stieglitz she split her time between New York City and Santa Fe, but after his death she moved permanently to a ranch she lived in until her death in 1986. Wonderful works in many different styles.

The rest of the day we strolled around the Plaza and the surrounding area, poked our heads in and out of stores, perused the wares of the street vendors, and ate street food for lunch. After an hour or so sitting outside by the pool reading, we decided to skip the sherry hour and went to see "The Hunger Games" instead. It was a very enjoyable, if not great, movie, and it definitely helped to have read the books.  As with most movies made from a book, there is a lot of back story that is difficult to get into the film.  But we had a good time.

Virtually all of the architecture in downtown Santa Fe is of a similar Pueblo adobe style, single-story, flat roofs, and either real or faux roof beams extending out beyond the walls. There are a few two-story buildings in the same style, but nothing higher than that.

How to eat in Santa Fe on $20 a day (for two): breakfast is included in the hotel price - $5 tip; lunch, two tamales and a pork taco, $9 plus $1 in the tip jar; dinner in the hotel bar with a $25 credit and a $5 tip - $4.98.  Total for the day: $19.98!

Forget Russia - We Can See Four Corners From Our Car!

Chinle is another rather poor town in the middle of the Navajo reservation in Arizona.  There are some nicer sections of it with neat tract houses, but much of it was rather heartbreaking to me.  Just down the road from our motel was the regional school administration facility, with a youth correction facility on one side, complete with razor wire, and shacks that people were living in on the other side of the building.


Although the roads are well paved, and many sections have sidewalks, there is dirt everywhere else - no gravel, no landscaping.  When the wind blows, the reddish dirt gets into everything.  


We had breakfast at the same restaurant as last night, and saw many of the same people, including a very nice group of four Harley-Davidson bikers on their way to Arizona bike week in Scottsdale.  We chatted with them briefly; they were hoping for warmer weather since riding a bike even at 60° can be very cold.  Of course, none of them was wearing a helmet, since that is not required in Arizona.


Random observation: all of the school buses I've seen in Arizona are white on top and have air conditioning.  My assumption is that the white top helps to reflect the sun.


Canyon de Chelly is a much smaller Canyon east of the Grand Canyon and within the Navajo reservation. Chelly is actually the Anglicized version of the Navajo word Tse' Yi'.  Besides the size, Canyon de Chelly differs from the Grand Canyon in two other regards.  First, the sandstone walls that have been eroded are sheer cliffs, leaving a flat valley below with interesting formations sticking up.  Secondly, the Valley is home to a number of Navajos who farm there.  In some cases these farms are just summer homes because the weather in the canyon can be very severe.  At this time of year is starting to become green and we could see the fields prepared for planting.  The area surrounding the canyon also has many individual homes.  A number of these homes have "hogans", which are six sided huts used as additional rooms.  They may or may not have windows, and they are always made with just one door, which faces East to catch the morning sun.  As a people, the Navajos are very reluctant to have their photos taken, so we did not take any others than in the canyon itself, as a matter of respect.

The spider woman formation was particularly important to the Navajos.  They respected the spider woman God, because she taught them how to weave.

From Canyon de Chelly we traveled on a variety two-lane roads through Arizona and into the bottom of Utah to get to Monument Valley.  This was a change of pace for us, for instead of looking down at all of the rock formations in the canyons, we were able to look up at Monument Valley.


The way to Monument Valley was all "high desert", meaning that it varied between six and 7000 feet in elevation and was relatively flat with some mountain ranges here and there and had enough grass for open grazing for cows, sheep, and horses.  We frequently saw them right at the side of the road as we passed by.

Monument Valley comprises some spectacular rock formations that are left standing after severe erosion, and in addition  there are a few lava plugs, such as El Capitan, that were left after the rest of the volcano was eroded.  Monument Valley has a 17 mile long, unpaved dirt road that allows you to get up close and personal with many of these rock formations.  It was a challenging drive, taking us over two hours, but Bob was able to test our new Volvo as an off-road vehicle.  It passed with dusty colors.  The fine dust on the road is carried into every crevice of everything.  We will definitely have to wash the car tomorrow.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going through more of Navajo nation, into Utah and then Colorado, through Mexican Hat and finally to Cortez to spend the night.  Tomorrow we will make it down to New Mexico to complete our trip through the corners of the four states.


Since we knew we were going to New Mexico, we didn't feel the need to visit the actual four corners Monument, but we did take a peek down the road, about 5 miles, as we passed the turnoff to it. We're pretty sure we saw the monument - after all, we were way closer to it than Russia is to Wasilla!

I'm Not Petrified - Are You?

The Hilton resort in Sedona was delightful and we thoroughly enjoyed our stay there. After three nights there, we left to pursue more geology. Once we left the Sedona area, the landscape was mostly High Plains - rather barren except for the sagebrush.  It's astounding how much "there" there is in the West once you get outside the cities.

Our first stop was at Meteor Crater, near Winslow, Arizona.  The crater is almost 700 feet deep, and three quarters of a mile across, the result of a massive meteor crashing at the site approximately 50,000 years ago.  As with the Grand Canyon, pictures really don't do it justice.  Geologists have been studying the site for almost a century now, and have concluded that about half of the meteor matter is beneath the ground, and the rest was scattered and vaporized.  It was originally about 150 feet across.  The largest remaining piece found to date is about 3 feet.

The Petrified Forest was next. This National Park is known for its petrified tree logs from the late Triassic Period, as well as fossils from the same timeframe. These were part of the Chinle Formation. All of the layers above the Chinle Formation eroded, exposing the fossils and petroglyphs.  The remaining sections of the Chinle Formation are seen in the Painted Desert, which is also part of the park.  It's fascinating to look at the fossilized log sections and be able to see the rings of the tree in the minerals that replaced the wood.

We continued along through the high plains at elevations between 5000 and 7000 feet, once again commenting on the vastness and emptiness of the landscape.  Occasionally we would see a very modest house or trailer, all by itself.  There are some small towns with clusters of these very modest homes, some neatly and tidily kept, and others almost shacks.  One is struck by the amount of poverty in this area.

Driving through some of the towns out here felt like we had been transported back in time about 30 or 40 years. We stopped in Chambers, Arizona for lunch at the "Apple Dumplin' ".  The outside look like a log cabin with horse shoes and other similar adornments.  It had a sign saying that it was for sale, but at the same time noting that it was open. When we walked inside, the first thing we saw was a very large man with a beard sitting at the table nearest the door.  The table had a crude wooden sign on it marked both "Reserved" and "Doc Holliday".  The man was the only person visible in the restaurant.  He glanced up when we walked in and told us to just sit down anywhere, so we did.  The tables were all covered with lace tablecloths, which in turn were covered by clear plastic.  Each table had its own wooden sign and name; we were at the Jesse James. All of the table legs were sitting inside Western boots.  Each wooden chair had a bandanna tied to the back - all red, white, and blue. The walls and ceiling were covered with more Western paraphernalia wherever it could fit. I really wanted to take a photo, but I didn't think it would be appreciated.

As soon as we sat down, country Christian music started.  We had obviously been seen. A woman appeared dressed in Western garb from head to toe: cowboy hat, cowgirl blouse, a long full skirt with an apron, and cowboy boots.  The menu was primarily hamburgers and sandwiches, with a Navajo touch.  Bob ordered a patty melt on Navajo Fry bread; I ordered the hamburger with green chili. These were surprisingly good.  The hamburgers were large and clearly handmade; the green chili was an excellent addition that I'm going to have to try at home; and the fry bread was excellent.  (Fry bread is a lot like the fried dough that you get at carnivals, but there's no sugar or other seasoning on it and it's used for sandwiches and tacos on the reservation.) The woman who took our order was not just the waitress, but also owner and cook. It can be a hard life, but she was cheerful as could be.

A bit more driving, and then we checked into our motel, the Best Western Canyon de Chelly, also a throwback to years ago.  I can't remember the last time I stayed in a motel where we drove up to the door and there were no inside hallways.  But it's neat and clean and we are here for just one night. One more thing I've never seen before: a note in the hotel warning us that if we use the hotel towels to clean our boots or our trucks, we would be charged for the towels.  They left a special towel marked with an X in black magic marker for that use!

Dinner was at the restaurant across the parking lot, also part of the hotel.  We were in the distinct minority. It appeared that everyone else was a member of Navajo nation and they all knew each other. It was a very gemütlicht setting.

Off to the canyon tomorrow, and then a drive through the reservation in Arizona, Utah, and Colorado.

Wow Is Me!

On Sunday we tried to get out early since we had close to a three-hour drive up to the Grand Canyon.  As Gail was getting dressed, she felt an odd lump in one of the legs of her jeans.  It was the missing sock!

Lunch was at a place called "We Cook Pizza".  They offered a cheese pizza; a "We Cook" pizza (pepperoni, mushrooms, onions and peppers); an "Other Cook" pizza ( same but with sausage); and "Meaty Cook" pizza (pepperoni, sausage, Canadian bacon, meatballs).  We chose the "We Cook".  It was delicious.

One of the very few benefits of being disabled - and I would trade it in any time - is a permanent pass to enter any national park for free.  Additionally, at the Grand Canyon, we were given a separate pass and code to be able to drive westward along parts of the South rim where normally only buses are allowed.  This was great, and allowed us to get up close to some of the most beautiful views of the canyon.  Bob had seen the canyon twice before, about 40 years ago, but I never had.  The two of us only had one word for it: WOW!  It's impossible to describe in words the magnitude of this canyon, and photos do not begin to do it justice, but here are just a few.

We spent approximately 4 hours driving along the south rim and stopping at view points along the way, and were lucky enough to find a place where we could actually see the Colorado River. We could have spent another several hours there - it is that magnificent and that different from various vantage points - but we had a long drive back to Sedona.

Wow.

Tally-ho Taliesen

As we got farther and farther from Tucson, we saw fewer and fewer saguaros.  We did see a lot of open cattle grazing and cattle grates along the roadside.  In this part of Arizona, the roads follow the contours of the land, and there were a lot of dips and rises to keep us on our toes.  For quite a while we paralleled the railroad tracks and were able to see firsthand how so many things are transported from place to place.  One train we passed had over 100 cars before I lost count, and many of these were stacked two high with containers.  It's quite impressive to think of the weight that the 4 or 5 locomotives can pull.

We stopped for a bio break in Sacaton.  I noticed that everyone at the gas station and convenience store there looked to be of Native American ancestry, so as we pulled out I looked it up.  Sacaton is a CDP - a census designated place.  A CDP is not a city or town, as it is not incorporated, but is a concentration of people that is tracked for census purposes. Sacaton has just over 1500 people, over 95% of whom are Native Americans. 40% of the population has income below the poverty line.  As we traveled through Arizona, we saw many similar settlements. I know there are many areas of New England that are struggling, but when you see these clusters of houses, shacks, and trailers isolated in the desert, their difficult situation becomes that much more clear.

I've forgotten to mention something that I have noticed since we passed St. Louis, and that is the abundance of public art.  Not only are there sculptures in many of the shopping centers and plazas, but there is wonderful decoration on concrete walls along the highway and bridge abutments.  Some of these are cast into the concrete and then either left in the natural state or painted.  Others are done with different colored stones, much like the Navajo sand paintings.  There are geometric designs, as well as stylized animals or other representations.  My favorite was a spotted Gila monster done in gravel.  Unfortunately, we were unable to take photos of any of these as we were driving along the highway.

We arrived at Taliesin West, one of Frank Lloyd Wright's famous houses, and took a most interesting tour that lasted almost 2 hours.  The house is currently used as an architecture school, which writes started when he was still alive.  There are only about 25 students, and only a handful of new ones are admitted each year.

Taliesin West is fascinating in its design and concept.  Wright used one of his favorite shapes, the hexagon, in everything from doorways to the furniture in the living room.  From an engineering and structural perspective however, the building is a nightmare.  When Wright had an idea, such as covering the roof beams with canvas rather than wood or glass (he wanted to allow in a soft, filtered light) he paid little heed to whether the material would last or was even suitable for the environment.  The hot Arizona sun and yearly monsoon rains quickly deteriorated the canvas, and it has had to be replaced with more lasting materials.  Joints are not always tight.  Wright was an assertive person, to say the least, and since he was only 5'8", felt that anybody more than that was a waste of material. Many ceilings are relatively low when compared with structures of today, yet his mastery of light made rooms feel very open.

Since we were just outside Phoenix, which is quite a bit lower than Saddlebrooke, many of the spring flowers were already open and it was several degrees warmer.  This quickly disappeared when we reached Sedona, which sits at about 4500 feet.  Sedona is named after Sedona Arabelle Miller Schnebly, who was the wife of the first postmaster. The famous red rocks are beautiful, and for geologists, fascinating because they are "open" geology rather than the geology of the Northeast which has long since been covered over. The red rock itself is known as the Schnebly Hill formation, and is found only in the vicinity of Sedona.

The area is beautiful, and in addition to the many stores selling jewelry and native crafts, attracts hikers and campers.

We always enjoy people watching, and Sedona provided ample opportunity.  While waiting outside the Cowboy Club for a table for dinner, we saw many noteworthy examples: a gentleman in his late 50s, dressed in the usual khakis and a sweatshirt, with short cropped white hair, sporting a little tail on the back of his hair dyed purple; a big and tall man, also in his late 50s or early 60s, with a mustache paraded on both ends hanging down about 16 inches, with a dangling three-inch airing in one ear, and a black Derby on his head; and another large man - this area seems to specialize in big and tall - completely outfitted in Harley-Davidson gear, daintily carrying a plastic bag from his shopping - which I then noticed also said Harley-Davidson.  We also saw a number of young ladies wearing halter type dresses whose pulchritude spilleth over.  And over.  Pulchritude was another of the words that Bob made me use.


We end of the day with a little bit of window shopping and then back to our hotel.

MacArthur said, "I Will Return!"

Friday, March 23.  It's our last day in Tucson. It's hard to believe we have been here for 2 1/2 weeks. Our friends have made us so welcome it truly feels like a second home  and we are very reluctant to depart.

Rather than try to do any more sightseeing, we just enjoyed the Arizona "slouch" and spent the day basking in the beautiful sun and doing homely things.  Bob loaded up the washing machine so we would be able to leave with clean clothes.  Arizona washing machines are no different from those in Acton, and he managed to lose a sock.

A little more hard work sitting in the sun and chatting, and then we went out for lunch at a lovely little bistro with a view of the mountains.  We returned home, and sorted our belongings so Bob could take our purchases and probably half of our clothing to the UPS store to mail home.  After all was said and done and wrapped in massive amounts of bubble wrap, we had five boxes to ship!  I won't divulge how much it cost; we just attribute it to a local VAT.

We soaked up the sun at the end of the day, collected Maren, and the five of us went out for dinner at a delicious Arizona-Mexican restaurant. Bob and I went with Maren in her car and had a close encounter of the kind we would rather forget!  A couple of times during our stay, we took the golf cart around the course at dusk, after all the golfers had left and the wildlife took over.  Among us we managed to spot a herd of mule deer, a roadrunner, some javelina, and way too many little bunny rabbits. But we never got quite as close to any of them as we did to the deer Friday night!  We were traveling along the road at about 50 miles an hour when this one mule deer - actually a 10 point buck - ran across the road directly in front of us at about the same speed.  It was only due to Maren's excellent avoidance skills that we missed the actual encounter.  Our heart rate was just about back to normal when we reached the restaurant.

On Saturday, we said goodbye to Gale early, as he had an important Pickleball match in the morning. for more on pickle Ball, check out either of these pages: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pickleball or http://www.pickleball.com

Barbara and Maren and I sat around chatting for most of the morning, never running out of reminiscences our new things to say.  We shamelessly whiled away the time, letting Bob packed the car all by himself.  This was not really a burden for him - for those of you who know Bob, he prefers to do all the packing himself and may well have been the inventor of the closest cubic fit.

Bob came in, it was time to for us to go, but before leaving we promised that we would be returning next winter for an extended stay, and hope to rent one of the homes in Saddlebrooke.   Barbara and Maren winked at each other and then told us they would be working on it from their end.

A Random Walk

Today started with another deep blue sky. It occurs to me that I've said that more than a few times now.  I don't think I will ever get tired of that color blue in the sky, just peeking in through the top of the arched window in our room in the casita.

We did a little more shopping today and picked up a Talavera tile house number to adorn our condo when we get back. We were also introduced to "Joel's Pots", a pottery store where they have planters ranging in size from the small, 10 inch one that we bought to some that both Bob and I could fit in together.  The colors were dazzling and except for the fact that Bob would have to throw Gail out of the car to bring home one of  the larger ones, we would have done so.  Shipping these things is out of the question!

As we were driving around we passed our second marijuana storefront, "Medical Marijuana Certification".  Prior to this we did not know that marijuana was legal in Arizona for medical purposes, thinking this was only California. Much to my surprise, Massachusetts is way behind 16 other states and the District of Columbia in approving this initiative.

Seen on a storefront: "Se Habla Espanol".  Well no kidding!  We are only about 70 miles from the Mexican border and I would be very surprised if any storeowner did not speak Spanish. The words are coming back to me, and I suspect that if I were here for a month or two I would be very comfortable speaking with almost anyone.  Even though I've had next to no dealings in Spanish, it's in the air almost everywhere you go.  I believe that hearing it around you somehow stimulates those Spanish memories deep in the brain and brings them to the surface.

March Madness starts up again today.  I was following it avidly last weekend, but last Sunday night my pick to win, Florida State, let me down.  I have yet to see how I'm doing in the pool standings, but it can't be very well.  With the exception of the two stunning first round 15-2 upsets, this appears to be the year of the favorites, Kentucky and North Carolina, so perhaps Pres. Obama will do well in his bracket; he picked North Carolina.

When we visited the Mission San Javier del Bac last week I saw a wall covered with "milagros", those tiny, silver colored metal representations of animals, flowers, and people so commonly seen in Mexican churches.  Milagros are pinned up on the wall when one is asking for a prayer to be answered, as well as when the answer is received.  Sometimes the wall is so completely covered in these tiny little decorations that the surface is almost totally hidden.

These small memories of Mexico that we have encountered all around Tucson, such as the milagros, resonate with unexpectedly strong emotions for me.  In the case of the milagros, I decided I had to have one, and with only a little bit of searching in the old downtown area, we were able to find them.  I have given one to Barbara and Maren.  Everyone can use a small miracle!

Like most people on the East Coast, we have spent many vacations within view of the ocean.  I have always found that just looking at the ocean is very relaxing and can be almost hypnotic, watching the waves  change their patterns and listening to the soft sounds made as they reached the shore.

Now that we have spent a couple of weeks out of reach of any bodies of water, and have also spent many hours sitting in the sun enjoying the view of the mountains, I think I can say that the mountains hold an equal fascination.  Despite that constant blue sky, there is the occasional cloud casting a shadow, and as the sun rises or sets on the mountains the shadows move languidly across the peaks and valleys, changing the landscape as they do.  In the evening, if one is lucky, the colors on the mountains take on a faint pink glow, one that in an oil painting would look beautiful but perhaps a touch artificial.  Here the beauty is very real.

The Weather's Snow Problem Here

It's raining now, for the first time since we have been in Arizona, and apparently for the first time in a month or two.  The desert doesn't get much rain, so this is much anticipated and welcomed.  The forecast is for about a third of an inch, but this small amount will make a huge difference to the plants.  As we sit around at lunch, looking outside at the small puddles in the gravel, I notice that all of the cactus and greenery look just a little happier, greener, and stand just a little more upright. In a few days many of them will be blooming.

The weather is hardly a problem for us, as there is always something to do, or even not do.  One of the best parts of being out here for more than a couple of days is the ability to just sit and talk and enjoy our friends and the beautiful surroundings, both inside and out.  We can definitely see why people enjoy living out here so much. It's summertime almost all year round, and even the "winter", which we are experiencing right now, is beautiful and invigorating.  The living is easy: the weather is mild; the architecture is perfect for those of us who no longer enjoy climbing stairs; and the landscape is incredibly low maintenance.

There are a lot of nice facilities here within Saddlebrooke.  Bob has been going to the gym almost every day since we have been here, which is far more than he does at home.  I know he's trying to make sure he stays in shape for hockey when we get back, but it's also pretty easy, mentally, to get up and go to the gym when you don't have to slog through the dark or the rain or even a little snow.

It's Barbara's birthday today, so tonight we are enjoying a steak dinner at a local restaurant, Keg's.  This is a chain that has not yet reached New England.  The steak is outstanding, and I'm told by the men that the short, tight black dresses worn by the female waitstaff are equally excellent.

We wake up to snow!  Now snow here is nothing like snow in New England, and it's falling quite gently, creating a beautiful dusting on many of the plants in the garden as well as on the mountains in the distance.  By midmorning it will be gone, except for what fell in the mountains, and even that will be gone within a day.

The weather has never stopped anyone from New England, so Bob and I take the opportunity to go shopping. I am on a quest.  I saw a beautiful Mexican tin and Talavera tile mirror that I would like to take home with me. After six stores, a tour of most of Tucson's out-of-the-way places, and a stop for lunch at a little tamale shop, I am no closer to the object of my quest.  However, we have managed to pick up a few little things at each of the stores we visited, as well as some frozen take-out tamales for dinner sometime.  Never let it be said that we went away empty-handed!

We had another excellent dinner at El Charro.  I ordered a duo of enchiladas, and along with the barbacoa that I had ordered, they brought me one filled with vegetables that I had not ordered.  It was a delicious mistake!  Another benefit of vacation is just being able to enjoy what comes your way, whether it's a store that happens to be next to a tattoo shop in a questionable area of town, yet happens to have some wonderful Mexican decorative items, or a mis-delivered enchilada.  Each is an unexpected experience, more enjoyable because of that.

The blue skies are back as we wake up the next day.  We never had any doubt.  It's still a little cool (relatively speaking) but the sun is so strong that by later in the day we sit outside for a short while.  My nose seems to like the sun the best, and tomorrow I will need to make sure that I put some heavy sunscreen on it so I don't come home looking like Rudolph.

Tuesday night is trivia night at Saddlebrooke! After the obligatory pre-tournament cocktail, our team, the "Ruptured Ducks", is primed and ready.  At the end of the questions, we are tied with one other team, so it's time for sudden death.  Question one - tie.  We are relieved.  Question two - tie.  We're starting to get a little cocky now. Question three - tie.  Hmm... Maybe we should start to worry.  Question four - we win!  Each of us is given a poker chip, redeemable for a cocktail any time.

Postscript to the mirror quest: I went online later, and within about 15 min. had found and ordered the exact mirror that I wanted, at exactly the same price as all the others I had seen in the stores.  The Internet is an amazing thing, but I really enjoyed the day of shopping.

It's another good day in Arizona.

When They Give You Lemmons

Mount Lemmon is northeast of Tucson and is the highest point in the Santa Catalina Mountains, standing approximately 9157 feet. A narrow, winding two-lane road takes you to the top, with beautiful vistas of the natural vegetation and the valleys below at every turn.  As you go from the base and travel up the mountain, you pass through the desert, with its myriad varieties of cacti, to scrub, to grassland, to small trees, and finally to an evergreen forest with snow.  It has been described, ecologically, as driving from the Mexican border to Banff, Alberta,in 20 miles and about an hour.

On Friday, when we went, the temperature at the bottom was near 90°, so although it dropped significantly at the top, it was still an enjoyable, albeit refreshing, 64°.  We had our picnic lunch at the base of the ski lift,which was still operating to give rides even though there was not enough snow to continue operating as a ski area.

Chinese dinner and a Denzel Washington movie ended the day.

A Goodyear for Baseball

Some of you may remember several months ago when we first started talking about our Odyssey to warmth that the primary impetus for this was to watch the Red Sox spring training game in Florida.  After some internal debate about length of trip and the fact that we've been to Florida many times, we decided to go to Arizona which had the big bonus of being able to visit some very young, old, old friends. Until I did the research, I didn't realize that Arizona is also the heart of the Cactus League.

So on Thursday we drove up to Goodyear, Arizona, just outside Phoenix, to watch a game between the Cleveland Indians and the Chicago White Sox.  Goodyear Stadium was just beautiful!  It is under five years old, and they have really thought of everything.  The three entrances all lead you to a wide concourse above seats and field, the latter of which is set into the ground in a natural amphitheater .  It has all of the usual food concessions around the top with the addition of margaritas. Those were too much to pass up, so Barbara and I sampled them, while Bob had a Sam Adams.  Bob was smart; the margaritas were mediocre, especially when compared to those excellent ones we had had at Wisdom's a few days earlier. The five dollar personal pizza, however, was not only a bargain but was also delicious!

Every seat in the stadium was a good one since they only seat about 8500 plus berm seating, and every seat has a cup holder.  What else could we want?  The air temperature reached 91° while we were there, and for the first time since our arrival I finally believed everyone's comment about the dry heat.  We were very comfortable watching the game.  I'm sure we were sweating, or maybe glowing, as ladies tend to do, but the cooling evaporation is so quick you never feel uncomfortable. I still think that 110° in the summer would feel hot, regardless of the dryness of the air.

We saw two Red Sox fans, one of them wearing a Trot Nixon jersey, and gave them a high five. I didn't think too much of them a few minutes later when they were dissing A. J. Pierzynski.

And what visit to Arizona would be complete without seeing the Rooster Cogburn ostrich ranch? Alas, we did not have enough time to go in.

Later, I checked my March madness bracket, and found that I had inadvertently selected 22 winners out of the first 32 games.  However, I did not choose either of the 15-2 upsets. did anyone?!

Blue Back Tubac

It's Wednesday, and it's another beautiful, azure blue back-to-back day in Tucson. We can't get over the richness of the color and the lack of clouds in the sky most days. Today we are going back to Tubac to buy some of the pottery we know we missed in our very quick trip through the galleries on Monday.

It is so difficult for me to look at all these beautiful things and not buy them!  I still have a very soft spot in my heart for all things Mexican, but I know that they will not fit in my New England house, let alone in the back of our car.  After a little bit of to-ing and fro-ing among the various shops, we decided on three different planters that can sit on our back porch.

We had lunch at a little café in Tubac, of course sitting outside and enjoying the warmth. If I could, I would always eat meals outside!

Tubac is only 30 miles north of the border, so on our way back to Tucson we had to pass through the "Fort Apache" border patrol roadblock for the second time during our stay here. Bob and I are waved ahead with barely a glance after they ask us in the most perfunctory manner if we are both US citizens; they never even looked at our IDs.  However, it doesn't escape our notice that, unlike the process at the Canadian border, we see drug dogs sniffing most of the cars and at least a dozen border patrol vehicles over on the side, each inspecting one or two cars very thoroughly. This is clearly a major drug route.

The day started with native crafts, and ended with local elegance.  We had dinner with Barbara, Gale, and Maren at the Arizona Inn. it was a perfect dinner, from the amuse bouche to the fabulous desserts.  Below is my appetizer of ahi, served with a ginger crème brûlée, and one of the desserts.

As  a cap to the day, I mailed my NCAA bracket to the poolmaster. Wish me luck!