Within minutes of stepping into the store we were in animated repartee which she laced with wry humor. Comely and about my age, she told of how she and her husband had been accountants, gotten bored and switched to retail. They'd been there 15 years with no regrets. He joined us and we talked about our enjoyment of the out-of-doors. As I left I gave her my card.
I went back today to ask about places in the area to go. As I came through the door she said, "There you are! I thought about you last night."
My immediate reaction was something like, "I didn't think married women were allowed to make statements like that." And although I hadn't seen him, I sensed her husband was nearby and for once kept my mug shut. I mean, what should I have said...
----- In what context? (too dull)
------ You have my sympathy. (He might take offense)
------ I thought about you too. (the truth...but what does one say if she asks)
What would you have said?
Friday, May 6, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Road Trip
Every few years Ms. Cook (see: Vince's Birthday)takes a couple of weeks off and we meetup somewhere. She's grown tired of flying so we decided to do a road trip... to the redwoods in northern California.
We stopped at the Sinclair station in Bluff, Utah where she imagined lovers meeting in the parking lot able to have all their needs met from a vending machine.
Climax Control Lotion
Swedish Massage Oil
Erotic Condom
Oriental Exciter
A complete kit for only $3.00! ( 4 x $0.75)
At the main overlook on the Dugway, she found this sticker of Mokimunk. (There was sunshine and clouds and the view was spectacular!)
In Sierraville, Nevada she spied Godzilla's Pomeranian.
I'm so used to wandering that my navigating skills have atrophied. But it's been "all good" as we've stumbled upon some great places we'd have missed. (I missed the turn in Hanksville and it wasn't until I saw the mileage-to-Torrey sign that I had a clue. Highway 24 West from Hanksville, UT looked veeeerrry in-ter-esting -- even in the dark.)
Robbers Roost, in Green River, Utah, has high marks on Tripadvisor. At only $43.00 it was a bargain.
Besides the spectacular scenery, a highpoint has been the Churchill County Museum in Fallon, Nevada. They have an amazing Native American collection (after 40 years in the SW my opinion isn't the least humble) and several unusual vehicles including a bonafide, steam-powered steamroller, a 1930s school bus, which, according to Gwen, our tour guide, was driven, by default, by the eldest child. She began driving tractor at age four and said in those days ten-year-olds were quite capable. There's also a 1920s Paige touring car...
and this incredible music box (video below).
(Assistance from staff is required to operate.)
We stopped at the Sinclair station in Bluff, Utah where she imagined lovers meeting in the parking lot able to have all their needs met from a vending machine.
Climax Control Lotion
Swedish Massage Oil
Erotic Condom
Oriental Exciter
A complete kit for only $3.00! ( 4 x $0.75)
At the main overlook on the Dugway, she found this sticker of Mokimunk. (There was sunshine and clouds and the view was spectacular!)
In Sierraville, Nevada she spied Godzilla's Pomeranian.
I'm so used to wandering that my navigating skills have atrophied. But it's been "all good" as we've stumbled upon some great places we'd have missed. (I missed the turn in Hanksville and it wasn't until I saw the mileage-to-Torrey sign that I had a clue. Highway 24 West from Hanksville, UT looked veeeerrry in-ter-esting -- even in the dark.)
Robbers Roost, in Green River, Utah, has high marks on Tripadvisor. At only $43.00 it was a bargain.
Besides the spectacular scenery, a highpoint has been the Churchill County Museum in Fallon, Nevada. They have an amazing Native American collection (after 40 years in the SW my opinion isn't the least humble) and several unusual vehicles including a bonafide, steam-powered steamroller, a 1930s school bus, which, according to Gwen, our tour guide, was driven, by default, by the eldest child. She began driving tractor at age four and said in those days ten-year-olds were quite capable. There's also a 1920s Paige touring car...
and this incredible music box (video below).
(Assistance from staff is required to operate.)
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Vince's Birthday
In Albuquerque we came together to celebrate Vince's 77th birthday which is April 15th. An unrepentant Luddite, I've been patient with his requests to look stuff up online, but when he wanted to know how to corn beef, I decided it was time.
I was lucky and found a Dell latitude E6410, in its day the fastest laptop on the market, at NAU surplus.
He's a superb ranter and bicycles nearly everywhere to spite the oil companies. His '72 Hornet, bought new, is, I suspect, the last one functioning. We share the opinion that a car is a tool, not an ego extension.
Of the thousands of artists, arts promoters, bureaucrats and media people I worked with he's the only one who became a friend. Michelle Cook (Double El) spotted him at the '93 SW Arts & Crafts Fair in Albuquerque where she too was exhibiting. His paintings, among the most bizarre I've seen, drip with angst. A graduate of Notre Dame, he has a degree in Biology and an M.A. in Political Science.
His obdurate, flat-out refusal of the computer means I'm enjoying it. He doesn't like beer so I also took back the Sheaf Stout.
He settled for a piece of cake.
L to R...Vince, Michele (One El), Michelle (Double El) Cook and Yerz Trooly.
I was lucky and found a Dell latitude E6410, in its day the fastest laptop on the market, at NAU surplus.
He's a superb ranter and bicycles nearly everywhere to spite the oil companies. His '72 Hornet, bought new, is, I suspect, the last one functioning. We share the opinion that a car is a tool, not an ego extension.
Of the thousands of artists, arts promoters, bureaucrats and media people I worked with he's the only one who became a friend. Michelle Cook (Double El) spotted him at the '93 SW Arts & Crafts Fair in Albuquerque where she too was exhibiting. His paintings, among the most bizarre I've seen, drip with angst. A graduate of Notre Dame, he has a degree in Biology and an M.A. in Political Science.
His obdurate, flat-out refusal of the computer means I'm enjoying it. He doesn't like beer so I also took back the Sheaf Stout.
He settled for a piece of cake.
L to R...Vince, Michele (One El), Michelle (Double El) Cook and Yerz Trooly.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Bluebird Diner & Power Place
I'm guessing about ten miles west of Kayenta (Arizona, U.S.)
N 36.44060 degrees W 110.74881
or 36 degrees 26.437' W 110 degrees 44.929'
On highway 160 about four miles w of the intersection of highway 98.
FROM THE HIGHWAY
NORTH END
BACK SIDE
SOUTH SIDE
SEVEN TENTHS OF A MILE NORTH A RED SIGN ADVERTISES THE POWER PLACE. It's some kind of christian deal, but there're some buildings next to the highway with a chain link around them. There's an inviting opening in the link, not a cut, and a trail leading into the "compound."
It's like, WOW, Dood! Check it out.
Across the whey is a small house. The fence is too close to get the whole scene into the picture. You realize you're gonna hav tuh exit and walk around.
It was then I noticed the writing.
I'm like....hmmmm. Yuh know, it's troo. And all those times I'v listened to white people say how nice the Navajo are. And in general, they are.
But there's still a strong, lingering of the time I inadvertently camped on one of their suburb's doorsteps (see blogpost). The Tribal police were right there at 7:00 a.m. He said I upset a lot of people and asked me, ASKED ME, can you believe it?!!.... (rather than TELLING or arresting me or if I'd been in Albuq probly shooting me) .....to leave.
As I was hot-footing it to the highway I pulled over to let an oncoming by. The driver, a guy about my age, stopped, rolled down his window and reamed me a new one. And furthermore, "I was just damned lucky the young bucks didn't beat the shit out of me like they did the last guy."
Boy, howdy, there's nothin' like makin' a mistake tuh make yuh feel humble. And after all the white folks have posted their properties and hung their Dixie flags and put up 12 foot steel fences along the border it's no WONDER. Tit for tat as they say.
Watch for the sign.....
Oh yeah, one more. You can see this pretty good from the highway, esp with binocs.
Whadya think it means, Russell?
Friday, April 29, 2016
Painted Desert Project - Pumphouse
WEBSITE
https://jetsonorama.net/the-painted-desert-project/
How it came to be
https://jetsonorama.net/welcome/
Blog
https://jetsonorama.net/
An Upload on Chip Thomas's Youtube Channel
(uploaded Nov 13, 2017)
Beware the ditch at the bottom of the hill.
That poster is *adhered.* It's fully-seated in the grout lines. As a collector, my ambivalence was intense; maybe with time I COULD get it off. I consoled myself with a quote from my therapist, "Handling ambivalence is a sign of maturity."
Notice the word hor (lined through) between pump and house.
DETAIL
Above: I spent some time driving around Tuba City and asking folks, but couldn't find the work mentioned: Step on JR's House.
Location:
N 35.95443 degrees W 111.39668 degrees
For those who prefer feet:
N 35 degrees 57.266' W 111 degrees 23.800'
For them what uses odometer:
About 6.5 miles N of Cameron on east side of highway 89.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Ah Well
Fortunately, the Flagstaff library is in a residential area so when I turned in front of the oncoming truck he was going slow and able to brake. There was a noteworthy scuff on the bumper of the State Parks Ram 2500, but he, the Parks Supervisor, was fine.
All bandaged up, but we won't be getting out that way anymore.
Takes a licking and STILL runs down the freeway just fine. We're gonna have to do a little body-work though. The rear fender flange rubs the tire on the bumps.
I'm a tad shook, but otherwise okay.
At least it isn't snowing yet. They were predicting snow down to the 7,000 foot level for this evening, but for now...check out that sunshine!
All bandaged up, but we won't be getting out that way anymore.
Takes a licking and STILL runs down the freeway just fine. We're gonna have to do a little body-work though. The rear fender flange rubs the tire on the bumps.
I'm a tad shook, but otherwise okay.
At least it isn't snowing yet. They were predicting snow down to the 7,000 foot level for this evening, but for now...check out that sunshine!
Friday, April 22, 2016
Trees! or Old Fool!
There was a time when I'd lope off into the woods, hike all day and come back to the car at sunset. Once, in the ponderosa and cinder fields near Bend, Oregon, I discovered I'd gone in a circle. Another time in the piney woods near Los Alamos (New Mexico, USA), I came to a promontory overlooking some hills and mesas I didn't recognize. There was a momentary sense of panic, but I ignored it. I arrived back at the car just as the sun was sinking.
In my youth I traipsed the high, thin trails of the Salmon River Wilderness (now credited to Frank Church). One time though, when camped near a road, I went to the creek about 300 feet away to get water. Returning, I was surprised when I came out on the road; I thought I was going back to camp. The road was straight and closely bounded by very same-looking trees; I had no idea which way camp was. It was getting dark and the camp wasn't right on the road. It was a 50-50 deal.
At some point (years later) I realized my luck had run out. I broke down and bought a GPS. Of course, electronics come with the requirement of carrying an extra set of batteries...maybe even TWO sets. And if I'm gonna carry something, I might as well take a flashlight, rain poncho and some water. I keep a pack with all this stuff, including the kitchen sink, ready to go.
But there's nothing like an old fool. And so, every now and then I think I'll just follow the road/trail a little ways and see where it goes. Each time I've gotten lost. This time, in the pinyon-juniper west of Cameron, Arizona, I was surprised at how quickly the panic set in. It was interesting, much different from the deliberations on self-deliverance (See: EXIT International) that sometimes accompany tho'ts of age and infirmity. It's a matter of control, I surmised.
As I strolled along, checking to see if I was getting thirsty yet, I recalled an essay in High Country News (great magazine!!) by a guy who lived in Alaska. He told of how whenever the conversation waned he'd blurt out "I'm from Alaska!" and everyone'd be awestruck. He acknowledged how pretty it is, but said he never ventured far from the bike path. He had no interest in encountering grizzlies, wolves or other predators; he was, he said, perfectly content to enjoy it from the safety of the street.
My encounters with wildlife have always been numinous, but I've never gotten over the time I had to climb down a mountain to get to the creek at the bottom. It's been nearly fifty years and to this day "Ah alwayz filz up muh jugs."
I soon found the road I'd driven in on. I carefully marked the two-track I'd taken from the stream (where I'd gone to get water) and went in the direction I thought likely. Luck was with me.
Upon arrival I paid obeisance to the GPS...and promised it I'd never go off and leave it again.
Old fool!
Eggbert (1999 3-cylinder, Geo Metro) amongst the trees...
In my youth I traipsed the high, thin trails of the Salmon River Wilderness (now credited to Frank Church). One time though, when camped near a road, I went to the creek about 300 feet away to get water. Returning, I was surprised when I came out on the road; I thought I was going back to camp. The road was straight and closely bounded by very same-looking trees; I had no idea which way camp was. It was getting dark and the camp wasn't right on the road. It was a 50-50 deal.
At some point (years later) I realized my luck had run out. I broke down and bought a GPS. Of course, electronics come with the requirement of carrying an extra set of batteries...maybe even TWO sets. And if I'm gonna carry something, I might as well take a flashlight, rain poncho and some water. I keep a pack with all this stuff, including the kitchen sink, ready to go.
But there's nothing like an old fool. And so, every now and then I think I'll just follow the road/trail a little ways and see where it goes. Each time I've gotten lost. This time, in the pinyon-juniper west of Cameron, Arizona, I was surprised at how quickly the panic set in. It was interesting, much different from the deliberations on self-deliverance (See: EXIT International) that sometimes accompany tho'ts of age and infirmity. It's a matter of control, I surmised.
As I strolled along, checking to see if I was getting thirsty yet, I recalled an essay in High Country News (great magazine!!) by a guy who lived in Alaska. He told of how whenever the conversation waned he'd blurt out "I'm from Alaska!" and everyone'd be awestruck. He acknowledged how pretty it is, but said he never ventured far from the bike path. He had no interest in encountering grizzlies, wolves or other predators; he was, he said, perfectly content to enjoy it from the safety of the street.
My encounters with wildlife have always been numinous, but I've never gotten over the time I had to climb down a mountain to get to the creek at the bottom. It's been nearly fifty years and to this day "Ah alwayz filz up muh jugs."
I soon found the road I'd driven in on. I carefully marked the two-track I'd taken from the stream (where I'd gone to get water) and went in the direction I thought likely. Luck was with me.
Upon arrival I paid obeisance to the GPS...and promised it I'd never go off and leave it again.
Old fool!
Eggbert (1999 3-cylinder, Geo Metro) amongst the trees...
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