Lisa and I took what will probably be our last trip to Las Vegas this past Wednesday.  Vegas is only around one hundred miles to the northwest from Kingman and the drive through Black Canyon and over Hoover Dam is worth every drop of diesel fuel.  Our trip on this occasion was for me to play golf with JC and allow Lisa to do some shopping.  It was a treat being able to play the Las Vegas Country Club – one of  (if not the oldest) golf courses in Las Vegas.  Our day ended with JC and his wife, Carol, driving us to downtown Vegas for supper.

Admittedly Lisa and I have limited knowledge of all there is to see in Las Vegas.  From what JC and Carol have said – the locals stay away from the famous “strip” and if shopping or gambling are your interests – it is advised to head toward the outlying casinos or to the old downtown “Fremont Street” area.  Downtown Vegas is where you will see the classic neon lights and famous places such as “The Gold Nugget” and “Binions”.  The overhead canopy of lights is worth the trip and light and music shows entertain every half hour.  But it is not just lights that you will see on Fremont Street.  While walking through we spotted a man in a thong wearing angel’s wings, a scantily clad showgirl offering discount tickets to one of the shows, street musicians, pan-handlers, drunks, parents with their small children, human statues and street performers pretending to be everything from ‘Spiderman’ to ‘Woody’ of ‘Toy Story’ – and that was just in the first one-hundred feet.  What a place!

But the highlight of our evening took place in a restaurant called “The Heart Attack Grill”.  Where all restaurants in the world are offering health conscious menu items, we found at least one that not only does not offer lighter fare – they paddle customers for not finishing their fat-laden meals.  When I say fat-laden we are talking fries cooked in pure lard and milk shakes that come with a pad of real butter floating on the top.  The ‘Heart Attack Grill’ offers only two meals: Cheeseburgers with chili, bacon and all the fixin’s or a hot-dog with the same.  But these are not just cheeseburgers.  Here you can order the Single, Double, Triple, Quadruple, Quintuple, Sextuple, Septuple or for $21.28 an Octuplet “Bypass” burger.  You can add bacon to any of the burgers and for $7.40 you can have forty slices of bacon added to your ‘Octuplet’ burger.  The name indicates the number of half pound hamburger patties on each burger – meaning the “Octuplet “Bypass” has four pounds of hamburger along with the chili, cheese, onions and – you get the idea.  Lisa and Carol split a single burger and JC and I managed a single “Bypass” on our own.  I asked if they had salad and I thought the waitress (dressed as a nurse) was going to slap me.  The menu also includes “Flatliner Fries”, “Butterfat Shakes”, Candy Cigarettes, and non-filter (real) cigarettes.  Here you can also drink wine from an IV bag hanging on a pole and take Vodka shots from a syringe.  Alcoholic beverages are served in prescription bottles.  But that is not all –

Upon arriving at the place you are given a hospital wrist band and a hospital gown to wear during your meal.  Where the female waitresses are dressed as nurses – all the male staff are dressed as orderlies or doctors.  But the real kicker is that if you do not finish all your food – the nurses will paddle you.  I’m not talking little love pats here.  They lay the wood to you.  As we ate our meal – several college aged guys were lined up in the center of the restaurant and assumed the position.  As a camera captured their facial expressions, they were asked to lean against a rail while a “nurse” proceeded to swat them three times – hard.  Hard enough, in fact, that these tough guys were hopping, rubbing, wincing and standing for most of the night.  Carol was so concerned about getting that treatment that she had JC wrap up what part of the burger she could not finish and put it in his pocket.  I had nightmares about the paddles from my younger school days and – trust me, I left nothing on my plate.

Here the weight challenged folks are actually celebrated.  With scales both inside and out – people who weigh 350 lbs. or more are allowed to eat free.  Before you even ask – all of us had to pay.  We laughed at the absurdity of the place.  If one word could capture the essence of Las Vegas – I would go with “absurd”.

There is no place quite like Las Vegas.  Without question there is nothing here that you cannot do or see.  People love it or hate it or tolerate it.  Vegas has the finest restaurants in the world and the most dazzling floor shows and entertainers.  They also have a place where it is not how little you eat but how much.  The “Heart Attack Grill” is like nothing you have ever experienced before.  If you are ever in Vegas – head to Fremont Street and stop by for a good ol “Bypass”.

Just make sure you clean your plate.

Viva Las Vegas!

Dear Conner Jack,

Your Mimi and Mac wanted to write and tell you how much we have missed you these past months and how excited we are to see you again.  Of course, we are looking forward to seeing your mommy and daddy and everyone else.  But we have really missed you.  We have not seen you since you were just a little more than two months old.  And now you are almost seven months old.  In just three weeks we will be driving home and we hope you are ready for a lot of giant hugs and kisses because we have a lot stored up.  Your mommy sends us pictures all the time and, boy, you are growing so big.  They say you are a happy baby – always smiling and hardly ever upset.  We have seen you smiling and laughing on the videos your mommy records for us.  I’ll bet they are funny aren’t they?  And we know how much you love your Aunts and Uncles and all the other relatives who think you hung the moon.  Hung the moon?  Oh – that is just a silly saying.  We will explain that to you someday.  You have so much to learn and it will be so much fun.

You know what?  When your mommy and Uncle Justin were little – Mac would hold them standing in his one hand and they would just grin and grin and other people would stare at them.  Do you think you can do that?  We bet you can.  If you feel like it and if your mommy and daddy don’t care – you and Mac can give it a try when he gets home.

How do you like your bedroom?  Did you know that Mac painted that room for you?  We sure hope you like baseball because your daddy sure does.  Mac even painted a score clock that gives the time you were born.  And some of the clothes we have seen you wearing were bought in a place called Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  It is a very famous place that Mimi and Mac look forward to taking you someday.  But you will need to be a little bit bigger for that trip.  Ok?

Hey Conner – know what?  Mimi and Mac saw some horses here in Arizona and we also saw a place called the Grand Canyon.  It is a really just a big hole in the ground but you will really enjoy seeing that someday.  Gosh – you have so many wonderful things to see in your life and Mimi and Mac can’t wait to share those things with you.

Now we want you to know one more thing – OK?  We love you very much.  We are so sorry that we missed seeing you grow so big these last several months – but we had to be away.  Now we are aching to hold you again and see that smile and hear that laugh that everyone has been talking about.  We even have some gifts to bring you that Mimi bought and we think you will really like them.  It will be so much fun.

Now, Conner Jack, you keep growing and keep smiling and laughing.  Be good for mommy and daddy.  They work real hard to take care of you so you need to help out all you can.  Just keep smiling real big for them every morning and that will make their day so much better.  That is all you have to do – for now.  One day very soon you will be looking out that front door and your Mimi and Mac will show up.  Please save one of those big smiles for us.

We love you, Conner Jack!

Mimi and Mac

It is a four and a half hour drive from Kingman Arizona to Los Angeles.  Lisa and I have become rather familiar with that drive as we have now traveled Interstate 40 and I-15 to the “city of angels” a half-dozen times.  About all we know of Los Angeles is they sell a lot of stuff.  I say that because all I have really seen of the place is the wholesale district.  I am told that LA has a lot of other things like museums, sports teams, and other points of interest.  But I cannot verify that.  I can verify, without question, that if you don’t like shopping – stay the hell away from the wholesale district in LA.

Lisa and I match up pretty well.  She is a shopping guru who could haggle over a piece of gum.  I, on the other hand, hate to shop or haggle and have overspent on just about every purchase I ever made.  We balance each other out fairly well.  The LA wholesale district is all about haggling and buying and where it is Lisa’s heaven it is my tormenting hell.

Yesterday we journeyed back to that area to buy items for our son’s upcoming wedding.  In particular, we were there to pick up twenty-two Manzanita trees (which I spoke of in our last post).  In August we were there and discovered these decorative tree branches (painted in assorted colors) that Lisa thought would be a unique decoration for the wedding reception.  We reserved twenty of the trees then and agreed to be pick them up yesterday. We arrived at the florist shop around 10:00 in the morning after leaving Kingman around 5:30AM.  Many (if not most) of the merchants are foreign speaking and it was no different at the place selling these two foot high trees.  Our first inquiry about our trees was met with a scowl and shrugged shoulders from one of the employees.  Our fear all along was that they would lose our order and our four and half hour drive would be wasted.  Fortunately, another worker arrived and told us our trees were the ones piled up along one of the walls – nearly to the ceiling.  We began gathering all our trees at the front of the store along the sidewalk.  What sat before us was this miniature forest of white tree branches that would have to (somehow) fit inside the backseat of our truck.  My only thought was we would be forced to tie them into the back of our pick-up and secure with a tarp.  In my mind I could see Manzanita branches flying all over I-15.  This would not be easy.

The florist owner told us to leave the trees on the sidewalk and continue our shopping.  He promised to make sure they would be there when we returned later in the day.  In fact, he went a step further and told us he would put them in the back of his pick-up truck which was parked in front of his store just so no one would take them.  I was very appreciative of him saying we could go shop some more – as if Lisa needed anymore encouragement.  Thanks a lot!

So Lisa and I continued milling around the fabric, purses, jewelry, clothes, toys, food venders, perfume, rugs, hats, shoes, luggage, spandex leggings, – you name it – it was for sell.  After walking around ten city blocks of merchandise – we decided to stop for lunch and have “MexiCali Dogs” (Hot dogs wrapped in bacon and cooked with onion and pico de gallo sauce). The smell of the cooking sausages was too tempting to pass up.  For me, this is the best thing they sell in the entire place.  But, because there was no place sit down to eat – we were forced to stand on one of the street corners and woof down our dogs while hundreds of people squeezed past – all looking for that magic purchase.  While standing on the corner eating, I noticed a pick-up truck pass with a truck full of Manzanita trees.  I looked at Lisa and said, “There goes our trees.”  Sure enough, the owner must have needed to run an errand and he had no choice but to take our trees with him.  We would have laughed harder at the ridiculousness of the moment except we both had mouthfuls of MexiCali dogs and I’m not sure anyone would have stopped shopping long enough to save us from choking to death.

From there we ventured into the famous, “Santee Alley”.  I commented to Lisa after about a half mile down this narrow path lined with merchants yelling out their bargain prices that I had reached the seventh circle of Hell.  Lisa pushed us through the crowd and I realized that not only was I in hell – I was shopping with Lucifer.  When I said that to her she just laughed harder.  Man, I hate when she does that.

By the end of the day Lisa had made purchases of clothing for the wedding, purses, jewelry and other items that filled two large trash bags and several smaller bags.  At one point I sat down on the sidewalk with the bags all around me and would not have been surprised if people starting throwing money at me.  While I strained carrying bags down sidewalk after sidewalk, Lisa continued to look for more bargains until we finally (mercifully) arrived back at our truck.  Now we had a back seat full of purchases and still had to find room for twenty-two trees.  Airplanes were flying non-stop out of LAX and as I gazed up at the planes coming and going – I wished I was on one.  Take me somewhere – anywhere – just get me out of here!

We arrived back at the florist shop to pick up our trees in the mid-afternoon.  Two of the trees were going to our friends, Martha and Marcello, and we still needed to take them to their home in Highland California as promised.  When I told the florist shop worker we had to fit all the trees into the back seat of our truck – he looked at me like I was nuts.  We began loading the trees and amazingly they all fit.  From the floor board to the ceiling – our truck was (and is) a maze of white tree branches. I have my doubts that we can get them out of the truck – but..,  As I write this the trees are still in our truck’s backseat and they will be there for the next four weeks until we are ready to come home.  The things we do for our kids – right?

After stopping for supper with Martha and Marcello and dropping off their two trees – we headed back to Kingman.  It was an exhausting day – but, I have to admit, another memorable one.

There is a possibility that Lisa will be contracted to return to Kingman in January.  As I wrote earlier, if that happens we will leave our RV here and store it until we return.  If that happens – we will have to find some way to get everything home in our truck – including twenty-one trees (we realized after we got home that they had loaded one too many).  If that happens I will be looking to rent a U-Haul.  If that happens I will need to purchase another truck hitch since I left my other one in Owensboro.

The truth is – we don’t know what will happen before our Arizona adventure is over.  I can tell you that if Lisa decides we need to take another trip to the LA wholesale district – this little gray duck ain’t going.  I’ll send her by herself and let her shop all she wants.

On second thought – maybe I should go with her.

Thanks for reading!

Love, Steve and Lisa

Everyone has a junk drawer.  At our house back in Kentucky we have several.  These are places where we throw things that we are hesitant to discard and too lazy to do anything else with.  This cache of collected junk piles up until the drawer no longer opens or the cabinet no longer shuts.  At some point we either find a new place for more junk or finally purge.  We actually have a small version of a junk drawer out here in our RV.  A plastic container sits on our cabinet that collects those things that have no other place to go.

I thought about all this as I sat down to write this morning and realized I have a lot of little stories that I need to do something with.  Individually, there is not enough to write a complete post with but I really don’t want to throw them out.  They have just been sitting in my writing junk drawer for a while.  Time to purge.

The Hairdryer.  We had a hair dryer once that would automatically shut off when it became too hot. Maybe they all do that – I don’t know.  I figured out that when in a hurry I could blow into the front of the thing to cool it off quicker and get back to drying my hair.  A little “click” could be heard from somewhere deep inside the device and that was indication it was ready for more drying.  While drying my hair the other day here in our RV – our hairdryer stopped working.  Being a newer hairdryer I was unsure if my blowing trick would work but I thought I would give it a try.  I proceeded to blow into its end and listened for that “click”.  Nothing happened after about a minute and still it would not work so I continued blowing.  I blew until I started to feel a little dizzy only to find that it still would not turn back on.  Finally, I looked for some other possible solutions – like plugging it in.  Just glad Lisa was not home to see that one.

Manzanita Trees.  Lisa and I are headed back to Los Angeles this weekend to pick up twenty Manzanita Trees.  Twenty.  Let me back up.  Our son is getting married at Disney World in November with a reception planned for mid-December in Owensboro.  As part of the reception decorations – Lisa has the idea to decorate Manzanita branches for all the tables.  She saw them while shopping in the LA wholesale district and asked me if I could create them myself and save the cost of buying them.  These branches are pruned into the shape of small trees and are good for decoration because of their shape and durability.   After learning it was illegal to cut Manzanita branches in Arizona – and seeing these were already attached to a wooden stand and painted white – and after learning we could buy them for ten dollars each – I told the man we would take twenty.  Done!  Now all we have to do is figure out how to get twenty Manzanita Trees in our truck back to Arizona and then where to put them in our RV to get them home in November.  I have a feeling we will have Manzanita hanging, laying, sitting – even sleeping with us for the last few weeks.  This adventure continues.

Waiting for a Decision.  The hospital where Lisa works is trying to hire needed Ultra-Sound Techs in order to avoid using travelers.  However, they are still short-handed and have talked to Lisa about returning for another stint in January.  Lisa and I talked about it and if contracts could be signed before we go home in November – we will leave our RV here in storage and return to it in January.  If that cannot be guaranteed we will consider other offers – preferably one closer to home.  Getting all our stuff home in just our truck (including twenty Manzanita Trees) is another issue.

Follow Up.  Lisa received a call from the Long Beach Police Department to follow-up with her about the Disneyland ticket scam I wrote about in “Racing With the Pigs”.  They are begging us to follow through on testifying against these scammers since they have had so many victims of this crime in the past.  It may require that Lisa and I both return to California to testify after the first of the year.  If we are here with her job it will be no big deal.  If not – that is a long way to go for a testimony.  We’ll see.

Pirates in Los Angeles.  My beloved Pittsburgh Pirates play in St. Louis tonight for game five of their best of five National League Division Series.  Since the Dodgers have now eliminated the Braves, there is a possibility that I can see my Bucs in LA this weekend.  But first they must win tonight in St. Louis – a tall order but here is hoping. Let’s Go Bucs!

What is a Jolly Roger?  Our daughter, Heather, is one of a kind – in a really, really good way.  She is a terrific new mom, a strong wife, and an incredibly reliable employee.  We are extremely proud of her.  She also makes Lisa and I laugh – hard.  The motto this year for the Pittsburgh Pirates is “Raise the Jolly Roger”, a reference to the name of pirate flags – the ones with the skull and crossbones.  I don’t know where that originated but it has been the rally cry for this year’s Pirate baseball team.  I often post that saying on Facebook after a Pirate victory.  Recently I received a text from Heather asking “What is a Jolly Roger?”  I explained and she replied that she thought it was a candy.  ‘Raise the Jolly Rancher’ just does not have the same effect.  God, we love her!

A Desert Halloween.  This will be the second Halloween in a row that Lisa and I will be away from home.  Last year we spent Halloween in Gettysburg Pennsylvania.  I cannot think of a better place to be (except maybe Transylvania) than Gettysburg at Halloween.  The ghosts stories of Gettysburg as told during the various “Ghost Tours” that are sold there – make it one of the (so-called) most haunted places in America.  We have no idea what Halloween will be like here in the Mohave Desert.  I suppose they tell ghost stories out here as well.  My guess is they will have something to do with tarantulas, scorpions, and coyotes.

Have a great day!

Steve and Lisa

“While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader.  When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle.  When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws.  And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world in some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise.” 

Reepicheep from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Our camper sits on the east side of our campground here in Kingman.  Each morning we watch the sun rise above the Hualapai Mountain range and light up the Mohave County landscape.  There have been very few mornings in the past four plus months that we have lived here that the sunrise has been hidden behind clouds.  The bright morning sun gives way to warm (often very warm) days and dazzling sunsets to the west.  The desert has its own unique beauty.

Somewhere over those mountains is Owensboro, Kentucky.  Waiting in Owensboro are family and friends.  We are thinking more and more about them lately.  Over that horizon – where the sun rises two hours earlier, is home.  The writer Thomas Wolf wrote that home was the place that when you go there – they have to take you in.  For us – home is the place that when you go there – they don’t think you talk funny.

There comes a point in our travels that Lisa and I begin turning our mind and hearts toward home.  We have reached that point here in Kingman.  This week we realize we are one month away from leaving Arizona in it’s dust and turning our RV eastward toward Kentucky.  In our minds – our time is up here and the work is completed.  Now it is a matter of lasting out the final weeks and saying good-bye to Kingman and the friends we have made here.  Sure we still have four weeks before the end arrives – but now we see the end in sight and the desire to see our family and friends in Kentucky grows with each of those rising suns.

Whenever Lisa and I have traveled with her job to a location – there has been a  recognizable pattern of adjustment we have encountered.  Upon first arriving in a place we find the first month to be a time of acclimation – of figuring out locations, attractions, just learning how to get around.  After that first month we simply settle into a place.  It is then that we get to know people – make friends, make return trips to our favorite restaurants – find a church, the best grocery store, and learn how to navigate the Wal-Mart.  From that point until about a month from leaving we just accept where we are and make the best of it.  At the point in which we are at now (one month from going home) our desire to get home gets very intense.  I would say it is the closest to homesickness we have experienced.

So we will continue to write about our final experiences here in Kingman.  Next week we will travel back to Los Angeles to pick up some items for our son’s upcoming wedding.  And there will be more things to laugh about before our time here in the Mohave Desert is over – rest assured.

But in the meantime – Lisa and I will be staring at those mountains to the east with a little more intensity and longing – because we know what is waiting on the other side.

With our noses to the sunrise!  Love, Steve and Lisa

People talk about supernatural events that happen in which unexplained occurrences changed a life or a moment in a life.  I’m not sure if what they say is the truth or the stretched truth or if what happened is actually a miracle.  What I do marvel at is how life takes turns that are so unexpected and unplanned that one has to wonder if a higher power is orchestrating things – conducting the symphony of events.

That is the way I often look back upon relationships that Lisa and I have established in our travels. To think that we would be friends with people in Hanover, Pennsylvania and Loma Linda, California and now Kingman, Arizona seems so implausible that the only explanation would have to be the hand of God.  As I have said before, the hardest part of traveling is making friends and the hardest part of going home – is saying good-bye to them.  Today I say good-bye to my golf buddy, J.C. and I can’t help but marvel at how we connected.

I was swimming one day in the pool here at our KOA campground in Kingman, Arizona when I met up with two couples in the pool having a conversation about gambling.  At first I just listened, weighing whether I wanted to introduce myself.  One of the people in the pool was J.C. and I learned in that moment that he was a retired craps dealer.  After a few minutes I told the group that Lisa and I were here with her job until mid-August (she would be extended until the first week of November – but we did not know that then) and soon we were talking about many different things.  A relationship was born.

Over time I learned that J.C., who with his wife is a full-time RVer, enjoyed playing golf and so we made plans to play that week.  After that first round together we decided to play twice per week and have done so regularly for the past four months.  I will miss J.C. as he and Carol head back to their home in Las Vegas.  We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and will try to stay in contact with each other.  Who knows if we will ever meet up again in this life?

J.C. is a fascinating person.  Speaking of miracles – he told me it was a miracle that he became a craps dealer.  When he was eighteen, while in Reno Nevada, he walked into a casino and was beckoned to a craps table by a dealer working there.  He talked to him about how to play the game, which he knew nothing about, but was more interested in how much money the dealer said he could make.  Being only eighteen – he was three years away from being of age to work in a casino – but promised himself he would return.  He did return three years later and was interviewed for a job by the casino owner.  J.C. told the owner during the interview that he wanted to be a slot machine mechanic and work up to being a craps dealer – eventually.  The boss told him to come back at 2:00AM that next morning and he would start.  He was told he would be dealing craps and he did that for the next thirty-plus years.

Having worked during his career in Reno, Lake Tahoe and Las Vegas – he has some amazing stories.  He tells of the shady dealings of the mafia in old Vegas and how his first wife was a professional musician playing there for such stars as Wayne Newton and Sammy Davis Jr.  Sammy Davis, according to J.C., treated his staff well, often rewarding them to first run movies at a rented out cinema after his show was over.  Wayne Newton, on the other hand, was arrogant and cheap.  Offering only free copies of his music – something none of the musicians were remotely interested in after playing the stuff night after night.  He told me about a man trying to kill his wife after she hit the jack-pot in a mega-million slot machine but did not play the right number of coins – nullifying the win.  The man tried to choke her to death right on the casino floor.  I asked him once what was the most he saw won at his table.  The answer: three-quarters of a million dollars.  And he still seemed bitter that they only gave him a three thousand dollar tip – which had to be shared with all the other eighty casino workers.  Compared to the stories and experiences of his life – my time working with middle school kids for twenty years – seemed embarrassingly boring.

Playing golf with J.C. is one of the funniest experiences I have had on a golf course.  Neither one of us will be making the PGA anytime soon – trust me.  His ball would go in one direction and mine the other and by the time we had found his – we had forgotten the location of mine.  At one point J.C. said, “I guess I’m just too stupid to play.”  Every time I think about him saying that – I laugh.  I knew I had very little golf skill – but never really thought I was just too stupid to play.  He may be right.  Once while looking for our balls – he said, “We need to start writing things down.”

And it is the laughter that I will miss the most.  I will never know how God managed to get the two of us together.  But I am certainly glad he did.  Kingman, Arizona can be a difficult place to live – the heat is oppressive and the small town attractions and activities limited.  I almost gave up playing golf at one point in my life – really did not enjoy all the time I spent in frustration.  But here it helped to pass some long days when Lisa was working and, in the end, at least helped me to feel like I had done something – even if I did score a 105.  But more than that – I developed a friendship with perhaps the most unlikely of people I can imagine. I think God did a good thing.

Thanks J.C.!

Steve

I have read almost every novel by Louis L’ Amour, the prolific western novelist.  His stories are a great escape for me into a world of the rough and tumble old west.  The easy to read books are predictable with always a ‘tougher than the other guy’ main character and I always appreciated his treatment of women in his stories which was respectful and dignified.

That being said – I have never had a desire for the western lifestyle.  I love horses – but really am uncomfortable riding them.  Once at Disney World we did a trail ride on probably the most docile horses on the planet and I was scared to death.  Furthermore – I have never really looked good in Wrangler jeans and those giant belt buckles just seem awkward.

So going to the “Andy Devine Days Rodeo” here in Kingman over the past two days was an experience I was really looking forward to.  People here are a mix of cowboy, heavy metal rocker, and sixties throw-backs.  Walk into any restaurant and you would be unsure if you were in the wild west or a ‘Metallica’ concert.  But upon arriving at the rodeo – Lisa and I knew we were really ‘out west’.  A co-worker of Lisa’s invited her to go and support her daughter who was in the ‘Barrel Race’ competition.  Always looking for that unique experience in our travels – not going to a rodeo while in Arizona seemed practically sinful.

We took our seats on Saturday about the same time everyone else was standing up for the opening, patriotic ceremonies that included a girl in a sparkling red, white and blue outfit riding around the dirt arena carrying an American flag.  She was followed by a parade of all the rodeo participants including one handicapped person riding his horse proudly on a special made saddle.  There was a recognition of a local soldier and then a stirring rendition of the national anthem by a local girl who works at the “Boot Barn”.  It is hard not to be impressed with the love of country and western culture here in this little town of Arizona that we have called home since June.  These are hard-working blue-collar folks who should be admired for their love of a way of life quite foreign to Lisa and I.  Making jokes about my observations of life across the US is never intended to disparage a community.  We love these people.  This is the essence of small town  ‘Americana’ – western style.

The rodeo clown was introduced to the crowd and began telling jokes between the different events.  Rodeos have a lot of set up delays between events and it was apparent early on that the clown would be busy most of the day trying to keep everyone engaged.  His best joke of the day was about shopping with his wife who told him he could not buy the ten-dollar case of beer but insisted on her own purchase of some beauty cream for twenty.  When the husband complained about her purchase she argued that with the twenty-dollar cream she could make herself beautiful for him.  He countered that the ten-dollar case of beer could do the same thing.  (Ba-boom!)

The first event was the bronco riding and most of the riders were thrown off practically before they got out of their “shoot”.  We hardly got to see any action until one rider managed to stay on for about five seconds and win.  I did notice that every rider limped after each attempt.  Thank goodness they had two ambulances waiting in the wings and the EMTs stayed busy all afternoon.

One of our favorite events was the “Mutton Buster” races where little kids were invited to try to ride sheep.  The kids were fitted with protective vests and helmets.  One of the riders was three years old (that’s right – three years old). Most of the kids flew off in just a couple of seconds but one managed to cling to the sheep wool with all his little might – eventually sliding toward the side of the animal and hanging there for several seconds as the sheep scurried across the arena to the cheers of the excited crowd.  I admit that I do not understand animal husbandry – but they had a stubborn ram on a rope in the center of the arena during this event – I suppose to entice the sheep out of their pen.  When the event was over – Lisa and I laughed out loud at their attempt to drag the thing away.  It looked liked the ram had no front legs since they were tucked underneath him as they dragged it across the dirt.  Again, the crowd went wild.

One thing we have learned about Kingman is that beer is available everywhere except maybe the Baptist church (and I am not sure they don’t serve brew during their pot-lucks or communion).  The rodeo was no exception.  This is beer guzzling country if ever there was one.  People were up and down buying brews throughout the two and half hour event and by the second hour I noticed more ‘hoopin and hollerin’ than before.

The barrel races were enjoyable to watch as the girl riders were impressive in their ability to maneuver their horses around the three barrels and then sprint to the finish.  I am always impressed with people who can ride horses – since it is so traumatic for me.  And these cow-girls could really ride.

During the second hour – we were entertained by a one-armed cowboy herding a couple of enormous bison onto the top of a tractor-trailer that had been moved into the arena.  (I had to go back and re-read that sentence – yes that is what he did).  I was just glad PETA wasn’t anywhere near this place – they would be going nuts.   Of course, out here a person can buy a gun without any waiting period or background check – so I doubt PETA wants anything to do with these folks in Kingman.  I am quite certain everybody here is packing – all the time.

Calf roping was another big hit with the crowd and impressive rope work and physical strength is required for this event.  Unfortunately, one participant did a great job of roping the calf but could never manage to lift him off the ground and tie up his legs.  He strained and strained to lift the beast but never succeeded before the thirty-second horn sounded.  I have to say that maybe the most entertaining moment of the day was when one of the calves broke free and refused to go into the holding area.  After about fifteen minutes and about ten cowboys – he was finally dragged away. The crowd cheered when they finally shut the gate!

The final event of day was the bull riding and I have to say that was something to see.  Every rider got thrown and trampled by these 2,000 pound animals and every rider was limping or holding something that hurt after each attempt.  They finally moved the ambulance to the rear of the bull riding area – just to save time.  I am fairly certain one of the riders either dislocated his hip or broke his pelvis – but he was able to wave to the crowd as he dragged his leg behind him on his way to the ambulance.

The event ended with one final parade of horses and riders to the cheers of  the slightly tipsy crowd and we made our way home.

Mark rodeo of our list of things to see before we die.  We can’t wait to see what happens on day two.

Ride ’em Cowboy!

Cool temperatures are a welcome relief for Lisa and I as we rapidly approach our final month here in Kingman Arizona.  With the monsoon season finally ending and sunny days returning – we have enjoyed the high temperatures being a moderate 85 and have hit into the 40s at night several times.  We have even been forced to turn our furnace on in our RV the last several nights – something we could not imagine in June when temperatures were breaking record highs.  The rains have left everything much greener here in the desert and locals say it seems greener now than they can ever remember.  We have also experienced a bizarre invasion of caterpillars.  Thousands and thousands are moving to mate or spawn or hatch eggs or morph into butterflies or moths or something.  (Where is Joe Ford or Marlin Perkins when you need them?) They squirt this nasty green juice on you if you touch them and though they say it is harmless to humans – I don’t want to get near them.  As for Lisa – if one makes its way into our RV – it’s good-bye Kingman.  We have experienced tarantulas, lizards, jack rabbits, and now caterpillars in biblical proportions.  Life in the desert is a bizarre world but the fall here feels more like home.  We will miss the colorful changing leaves  Kentucky brings.  But won’t miss all the raking that will follow.  Here – there are no trees to speak of and I don’t know if they change colors or not.  They have not yet.  This will be the third time we have been away through changing seasons and that always makes our travels seem longer.  It feels like a long, long time ago when we arrived to record high temperatures hitting 110 and 115 degrees.

This week we will be saying good-bye to Carol and JC Harshman, friends we made here at the campground.  I will be particularly sad seeing JC leave as he and I have become good friends playing golf twice a week.  I will be writing more about JC and his story as a retired craps dealer.  He is quite a character.  The Harshmans are full-time RV’rs who live in Las Vegas.  As the temperatures start to drop around the area – even the lower elevations cities like Vegas are experiencing comfortable temperatures and people are starting to return to those places – leaving Kingman behind.  Our camp friends gathered last night to send JC and Carol home in style with dinner at the ‘Hualapai Resort’.

Today Lisa and I are going to the 29th Annual “Andy Devine Days” Rodeo here in Kingman – another first for us.  I am looking forward to writing about that experience.  We have no idea what to expect.  Neither one of us have anything close to cowboy attire – I do have a ‘Chicago Bears’ cap and some jeans.  I will probably look more like Billy Crystal in “City Slickers” than Andy Devine.  Who is Andy Devine – you ask?  He is the most famous native son of Kingman and was an actor who starred in many old westerns.  If you ever hear him talk – you will recognize him immediately.  Along with a parade and rodeo they have a major road named for him here which is actually part of the original Route 66.

Just about six weeks from now we will head home – but we will have much to write about before that happens.  Stay tuned and thanks for reading.

Steve and Lisa

Each year at the middle school where I worked for twenty years, we had a student health assessment day in which students were checked for basic health issues.  With the help of our local hospital staff, students were checked for their flexibility, hand strength, heart rates and other health indicators using basic, non-invasive tests.  As part of that assessment I annually assisted with heights and weights.  After checking the weights of about a hundred kids – I found myself getting bored and started messing with the students.  Middle schoolers can be difficult to deal with but they are also fun to mess with because they are so gullible.  As the students stepped onto the scales I would ask that they hold their breath as I recorded their weights. Without hesitation they would inhale real big and wait until I said they could breathe.  When that got boring I asked that they stand on their tip toes.  Sometimes I would say we needed them to step on the scale and face the other direction.  It was hard for me to not laugh out loud.  Those were fun days.

But, here is another good example.  During my tenure at the school, I secured my bus driver license and would occasionally drive students to various events and activities.  Each year I would take a group to a campground for a day long retreat.  The drive included a very steep hill that required the bus to climb on our return trip.  School buses tend to move very slow up a steep hill and I convinced the students to lean forward in their seats to help the bus negotiate the climb.  It was a hoot watching them in my rear view mirror follow my directions without question.  The serious look on their faces and the silence on the bus while they leaned forward was indication that they really believed they were making a difference.  Finally, one of them would notice me laughing and realize I was playing a joke on them.  Gosh, I almost miss those days.

People will follow directions – sometimes to a fault.  There was an episode of one of our favorite shows, “The Office”,  in which the company boss, Michael Scott, and his idiot assistant, Dwight Shrute, go on a sales call using directions provided by their GPS.  Following those directions to the letter – they drove right into a lake.  As funny and idiotic as that is – I have to admit that, although I hope I would never follow directions to that degree, I am prone to do as people say – sometimes without question.  A good example of that was this past weekend during the most hilarious boat ride of our lives.

“It’s A Small World” is probably the most obnoxious of all Disney attractions.  This classic boat ride has been around since Disneyland opened and as one of the original attractions – will probably never be removed.  Some people love it.  Some believe it would be better if each rider was given three softballs to throw at the evil little figures that sing non-stop.  While at Disneyland last weekend – two other couples who we came to know while in Loma Linda (Amy and her boyfriend, Mark, Marcello and Martha) joined Lisa and I on this mind-numbing ride.  After a long day in the parks it seemed like a good way to take a break and rest our tired legs.  As we lined up to board the vehicles, the Disney “Cast Member” instructed all six of us to enter the boat via lines “4” and “5”.  Okay – those were the directions and so like good cattle – we mooed our way through the turnstiles obediently.

After we were seated, having squeezed our fat asses into these two small rows, we realized the comedy of the moment.  Only a few other people were in the boat and they sat in the front two rows.  Between us and them was one empty row and we realized the cast member had made a mistake in loading our boat.  We had room for one row per couple – but here we were pressed into the two back rows – looking like idiots.

As soon as the boat left the docking area and the round-headed dolls began singing their obnoxious song, we felt the front of the boat raise out of the water.  I would think that one of the important aspects to working this ride is understanding basic theories of water distribution.  To say the least – our boat was not ‘weight distributed’ evenly.  None of us are really small, light-weights and as soon as the water started rising just outside our seats, Martha screamed, Lisa grabbed my arm and the few people in the front of the boat turned around to see what the commotion was.  They had to notice we were much lower in the water than they were.  We continued down the long-winding canal laughing and screaming at our predicament.  One of our friends, Mark, is a rather large, muscular guy and it was toward his side of the boat that water rose steadily.  We tried leaning in the opposite direction to even out the weight distribution – but it did little good in leveling out our boat.  In the meantime we could hardly see anything ahead of us as the front of the boat had lifted enough to block a clear view of anything to the front.

“It’s a world of laughter – a world of tears…,” over and over the song played as we tried everything we could to stay afloat – I even suggested that we use my old bus trick and lean forward and we laughed even harder.  Finally, we neared the end and (wouldn’t you know it) the ride broke down.  We could see the unloading area just around the corner – but all the boats were stopped for reasons we never understood.  We continued to laugh, squirm and lean away from the rising water while waiting to be set free.  In the meantime the evil little devil dolls kept singing,

“It’s a world where boats sink and people cry – If we don’t stay afloat then we all may die.”

At one point I offered one of the cast members ten bucks if they would let me get out.  That only provoked a frown from the worker but everyone in our boat cracked up – including the strangers in the front of the boat who we were about five feet in the air.

Well – all good things must come to an end and finally, mercifully, thankfully, we pried ourselves loose from the boat and walked free.  We were alive!  The rest of the night we all had the song ringing in our head.

I think it finally stopped playing in my head sometime Tuesday afternoon.

Sometimes it is good to follow directions.  Ask anybody who has ever put together a child’s toy.  Better follow those instructions or something just won’t work.  But, there may be times in life that a person needs to question things.  We should have asked why we were being seated in those two back rows.  It should have been apparent to at least one of us that we had enough poundage in our group to warrant a boat all to ourselves.

Next time you go to Disney – ride “It’s a Small World”.  But, I suggest you sit in the front and take some softballs.  The view is much better up there.

 Have a magical day!                          

During our highly eventful trip to southern California this past weekend (including the well documented run-in with the police – see “Racing With the Pigs”) we joined our friends Martha and Marcello for a night out at the Long Beach Lobster-Fest.  For Lisa and I it would be another unusual event among many others we have experienced in our travels.  Marcello had never eaten lobster – or even crab for that matter.  So, it was an event we were all excited about attending.

We arrived at their home in Highland, California in the middle of the afternoon having driven the four and half hours from Kingman.  Highland is very near Loma Linda where Lisa and I lived during the winter months while she worked for the Loma Linda hospital.  It was there that we met Martha and Marcello and we have stayed in contact with the two over the past months.  These are two of the sweetest people we have met in our travels and we would love for them to get to Owensboro soon to meet our family.  Although they are closer to our children’s ages, we had a blast during our long weekend with them – one we will never forget.

Marcello, Lisa and I picked Martha up at her work and headed to Long Beach – just about an hour drive from Highland.  We laughed all weekend about how it seemed everywhere we went was about an hour away.  I stole the line from “O’ Brother Where Art Thou” saying the place was a “geographic oddity – an hour from everywhere”.  It was not hard getting Martha to bust out in a side-splitting laugh that would have all of us cracking up.  Southern California seems like one giant city that connects one city or beach to the next.  I was glad Marcello did the driving as he knew how to get around and Lisa and I could just sit back and take in the sites.

By the time we arrived in Long Beach it was getting dark and we arrived at the Port of Long Beach around 8:30PM.  Never in our lives had we seen anything like the terminal port area we drove through.  Lighted crane after lighted crane dotted the landscape and the shipping containers waiting to be loaded onto trains and ships must have numbered in the hundreds of thousands.  It was dazzling seeing this operation and we learned that this port is one of the largest in the United States.  We also were able to see the WWII battleship “USS Iowa” that is permanently docked there and caught a glimpse of the Disney “Wonder” cruise ship.

We finally managed to find a parking space and walked along the docks where fishing boats were moored as we made our way to the festival.  Crowds were starting to thin out by the time we arrived but they were still serving lobster and that was all we cared about.  We stood in line to buy tickets for the food and another line for drinks.  Separate tickets were sold for alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.  We were even made to buy tickets for water.  I suggested to Marcello that you probably needed a ticket for first-aid.

On our way to the where the lobster was being served, Marcello and I purchased a couple of “Panama Jack” style hats that made him look like a member of the Cuban mafia.  I looked like an idiot from Owensboro, Kentucky.

We finally sat down to feast on the lobster meals ($34 for a two person meal).  We tore into our lobster like we had not eaten in days and pieces of shell, meat, skin from our own hands and lobster juices went flying everywhere.  None of us really knew how to get inside the shell so I finally laid mine down and hammered it with my fist.  I wasn’t sure if the cracking sound was the lobster shell or small bones in my hand breaking – but I didn’t really care – I was hungry.  Our friends laughed at my approach but soon tried that method for themselves.  It was a blast.

After stuffing ourselves with lobster we left and headed back to Highland (about an hour away) and crashed at Martha and Marcello’s house.  We all wanted to return to the port on Saturday to see the place in the daylight.  Our plans changed and (again) you can read about all that happened on Saturday in that previous post.

I know that I have said this numerous times – but I repeat what I believe is a truth.  It is not about the places you go – it is about the people you meet.  We won’t remember much about the Port of Long Beach or the USS Iowa or the Lobster-Fest in years to come.  Maybe we will be able to recall some of what those places and things were like.  But I can promise you we will never forget Martha and Marcello.  We will remember Marcello in his Cuban hat and will remember Martha’s hearty laughter.  We will remember the day we spent together chasing crooks through Long Beach and the fun we had together at Disneyland.

Life is people and the best people are our friends.

Thanks Marcello and Martha for a weekend we will never forget.

Your friends, Steve and Lisa.