Coffee heat rising

Idle essays

Can a day REALLY be this gorgeous???

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Okay, okay…I do understand that some (benighted!) folks fail to recognize that a rainy day coated in pearl-gray skies is fukkin GORGEOUS. But… {sigh} their loss.

My goodness, it’s beautiful outside those big sliding glass doors.

Yes, the sky really IS the color of pearls: gray and glowing and effing’ gorgeous.

A sweet and gentle rain sprinkles briefly and intermittently, warm and lush and amazingly dog-friendly.

{When you are a dog, you are a bit ambiguous about certain meteorological phenomena, such as …hmmm… rain.}

Yes, even though Ruby strongly disapproves of water falling out of the sky, she has cheerfully trotted outside to patrol the yard through the…urk!…water falling out of the sky. And now she’s back in the house, where she has taken up her post on the end of the bed, guarding the backyard through those heavy sliding glass doors.

My goodness, this has turned into an astonishingly gorgeous day. We had a spectacular sunrise…but that’s not so unusual for Arizona.

Rain, however, surely is. And gorgeous rain, beautiful rain: that most certainly is.

Surely, when you’re not a dog, you’re inclined to imagine that a day like today IS gorgeous. And yep: if you asked me, I’d tellya it’s a freakin’ gorgeous day.

Vaguely, it reminds me of certain days in Saudi Arabia.

NO, no…I’m afraid I do not miss (un)lovely Saudi Arabia. Yeah: I do miss my parents, who dragged me there as a toddler. Uh huh. And I do miss my crazy little friends. And ohhh yeah, I do miss our cats. (We weren’t allowed to have dogs: rabies, y’know. So we had cats. Cats and cats and cats…) Sooooo glad not to be in Saudi Arabia! S0 haunted by weather that brings back memories of that place.

If you’ve lived in Hell for awhile and are sent back to Earth for another lifetime, do certain kinds of weather remind you of Hell?

Whaddaya bet?

Ruby-doo is conkered out on the sack. The human is sipping wine… but not guzzling it, because it’s too darned wet out there to walk up to the store to retrieve another bottle of the stuff.

Just as well, one supposes. God tryin’ to tell you somethin’ no doubt. Eh?

LOL! I do wish my excellent son were here to socialize with. But…well…yeah: he’s working. 

Remember that? Work? 

How outrageous!

It’s still the middle of the afternoon, so his phone is at his ear and his nose is on the grindstone.

How happy ARE some of us that we don’t hafta do that anymore?

Tried to lure him in the direction of dinner out this evening, but he seems magnificently uninterested in any such scheme. For that, he can hardly be blamed. Venturing out in this weather is hardly worth a restaurant dinner. To say nothing of risking your life… I suspect what he looks forward to this evening is quiet and a peaceful mound of chow of his own making.

This is a guy who CAN make chow. Yeah: he really is a superb cook. So it’s kinda silly to invite him out to a restaurant. 😀

 

Morning in the ‘Hood

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Not to say “mourning.” One of the neighbors passed away this week, leaving a bereft spouse. Nice folks: it is a loss, for everyone who knew them.

Well, if you have to croak over, you couldn’t pick a nicer time of year to do it — not in central Arizona, anyway. Beautiful weather. Gorgeous day to be buried, if interment is your choice.

Unknown whether the widow will stay in the house — right next door to the Wonder-Accountants’ place. Can’t imagine what I’d do if I were her. As a practical matter, these houses are reasonably sized: not hard for one person to care for, and not so elaborate you can’t afford a housecleaner and a yard crew. I find this place easy to care for and pleasant to live in. But…well…if you had a miasma of memories to cope with, that might be a different matter, indeed.

***

In other sylvan realms:

Dare not leave Ruby the Corgi out in the front courtyard by herself. Just now we have a pair of coyotes roaming the ‘Hood. Saw them over at the park yesterday. One of them — to say nothing of two! — would make short work of the Short Stuff. 😉

Seriously: she wouldn’t have a chance to defend herself against a coyote. That’s one reason I don’t like to leave her out in the backyard alone: Our canine neighbors trot up and down the alley, and they could hop over that six-foot wall in a trice.

So anyway…Ruby and I are therefore loafing in the front courtyard, listening to the beloved Accountant neighbor working on his yard.

****

Meanwhile…serious loafing.

Probably not the most salubrious way to diddle away the day. Doing NOTHING led me to think about an old friend and colleague from graduate school, neither seen nor heard from in years. Stumble upon her name in LinkedIn. And yep! She’s apparently still teaching at Scottsdale Community College.

Urk! What a way to spend your life. How can I say how much I appreciate being so seriously without ambition that I haven’t spent the past 20+ years killing time and boring students witless at some junior college.

Have I done great things? Nope. Neither has she.

Have I been bored out of my mind for the past 20 years? Absolutely not!

Uhm…so…what HAVE I done?

Yeah, I’ve taught a few junior college courses.

I’ve published a pile of books, all of them through respectable publishing houses.

I’ve taught a fistful of university courses.

I’ve edited and published academic publications for that university. Also a PR publication or three.

I’ve traveled the world: Australia, New Zealand, South Pacific islands, Alaska, Mexico, the US..the US…and the US, Europe, the Middle East, on and on and freaking on….

And hey! I’m running one of the Great Blogs of the Western World!

😀

 

More October 5 Scribbling

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Not much else to do but scribble…sorry about that, folks! 😀

Hot and humid outside, coming on to four in the afternoon. Ruby and her human have traipsed around the neighborhood. Admired kids playing. Damn near melted in the heat. The Human kept remarking that she wanted to back to go San Francisco. The Corgi wondered what on earth the human was talking about.

My mother emanated from California. I had relatives who lived in San Francisco’s East Bay. Believe it or not, my lively aunt and great-grandmother occupied a genu-wine Frank Lloyd Wright bungalow, right there in the Berkeley foothills.

Dang, do I miss it! And them!

They were one lively pair of old bats, both widowed and living out their old age in the family manse. What a pretty little house, too. I never met the uncle: he was long gone before I came into this world. And the two women were well into their 80s — great-grandmother in her 90s, come to think of it. But they lived independently and happily in that little house.

And…heh heh!!!! Tellya one thing for sure! Nary an afternoon ever reached anything like 100 degrees in that place!! 😀

 

Headin’ Toward Hallowe’en!

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It’s only the fourth of October. But o’course, that means we only have about twenty-eight days till HALLOWE’EN!  My favorite annual holiday!!!

People here already have silly witches and wizards set up in their yards. This is a neighborhood that embraces pagan rites, bless’em! So we get a great deal of fun hootenannying going on around here. I love it!!!

Dunno if my son will invite me down to his house for the door-to-door festivities. Sometimes his friends throw a party…so if he’s over on the other side of the Valley, he and I won’t be watching ghosts and goblins running around his streets.

That’s fine, because the WonderAccountants — neighbors across the road — love to sit outside on their driveway and hand out treats. I bring some to add to the booty and go over to join them.

That is MORE FUN than Carter has oats. The neighborhood just north of ours is a low-end affair populated largely by poor whites and Hispanics. And THOSE folks do know how to have fun with their kids.

Hordes of costumed terrors show up, driven into the ‘Hood in their relatives’ or neighbors’ vehicles. And ohhhh! The amazing, the wild, the CRAZY costumes! 

Also, o’course, having all of us sitting out in front pretty much puts the eefus on the vandalism. We have fun, they collect loot, and our yards and homes stay pretty much intact.

Ruby the Corgi has already dragged the Human from the neighborhood ‘s northerly posts to its southerly pillars this morning. That journey takes us past the former home of an old colleague, Jerry Jacka — a historically spectacular Arizona Highways photographer. He is, alas, long gone…as we soon will be, too, no doubt. But you can be sure no one will remember my house as the abode of a historically spectacular Arizona Highways and Phoenix Magazine sub-editor. 😀

Ohhhhh well. If ya wanna be famous, you’ve gotta pick your poison. Or so it appears.

YIPES!!!!!

Sprinkling system just sprang to life in the front courtyard, whereinat I was loafing while scribbling this…AUGH!

Hound and I darted into the house, barely in time to keep the computer from getting drenched.

DARN IT! Such a gorgeous morning: all I wanted to do was sit outside, absorb coffee, scribble random thoughts, and enjoy the day.

But noooooooo….   😀

{sigh}  Jerry Jacka: one of the great (truly!) landscape photographers of the Western World…. Ye gods, was that guy good at what he did! And what a privilege it was to work on staff for Arizona Highways when he and the rest of that crew were freelancing for us. I will say: that is the one paying staff job, anywhere, that I really do miss and I really do wish I were still doing.

But…ohhhh well. Now I am old. Now I am tired. It’s comin’ on to ten in the morning and…egad! I wanna go back to bed! 

When did it become the style to take one’s afternoon nap at mid-morning?

😮

Ohhh well, indeed….the Human will be better served by laying its spavined hip under a heating pad than by dodging sprinklers or loafing around the living room. And Ruby would rather do her loafing job atop the bed than anywhere else in the house or yard. 😀

And so…to work! 

New Post? Nothin’ Much New…

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Gorgeous morning! Nothin’ new for October in Arizona.

Great doggy-walk, from one end of the ‘Hood to the other. Nothin’ new for Ruby the Corgi.

Yard dudes down the street ripping up the place with their LOUD goddamn hardware. Nothin’ new for this time of day.

Pool Dude in and outta here before I could catch him. Nothin’ new there, either.

E-mail all f**ked up… Well, yeah. That IS something new. Something that will consume about half the morning and probably cause me to grind my teeth halfway down to the gum line.

Yeah. TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY unopened message in the in-box, 98% of them junk. So now I’ve got to scan those and delete the hundred and ninety-nine that are trash. No idea what brought that on. And without a car, I can’t schlep the machine to my usual computer dudes to get them to figure out the problem.

This is, actually, one of the few occasions where an owned car really is NEEDED. Most of the time, I’m finding (to my astonishment!), you can get by without one just fine.

More than fine, actually.

Exquisite hip pain this morning. 

Dayum! It was about gone by yesterday evening. So I thought hallelujah brothers and sisters, i’m CURED. 

LOL! Not so much, eh?

I’m slated to accompany M’jito to the physical therapist this afternoon. His appointment, not mine. But since I’ve come to know those folks, I may work up the nerve to ask them what I can do to ease the current excruciation. Otherwise, it’s half a day wasted schlepping to the doctor’s office (again!), several days wasted waiting for an appointment, 30 or 40 more minutes wasted driving to the therapist’s gym and waiting around and waiting around and waiting around.

One of the signal fixtures of old age is the doctor’s office. Ohhhhboyyy! Am I ever SICK of visiting doctors’ offices. And since my son rests his faith in the august Mayo Clinic, a “visit” to the doctor’s office means a traipse to the far side of Scottsdale: 30 or 40 minutes on the road, each way. 

Old Age: what a bizarre land!!! 

This morning I was horrified to discover that SDXB does not remember the accident we were in a few years ago. I was driving & he was the passenger.

We were cruising through a dangerous slum, in the rain and in the dark. As we approached the freeway underpass — we were headed south on a six-lane road (seven, if you count the left-turn lane…) — the light changed.

The idiot ahead of me, seeing a yellow light, SLAMMED on her brakes. This caused her to screech to a halt in the middle of otherwise normal traffic. And that caused me to rear-end the moron.

And because I was the one who hit her, I was deemed to be at fault.

You can imagine what this exploit has done to my auto insurance — years later! Despite the fact that it was a minor fender-bender.

And now — years later — the frikkin’ Mayo is using it as an excuse to nullify my driver’s license!

WTF?????

I’ve about had it, and am beginning to think about moving to another state, just to get away from this BS. But of course — as you know — insurance companies follow you wherever you go. This means there’s probably no escape from my criminal driving record.

So I’m profoundly infuriated. Really, there’s no excuse for this crapola. Move to another state? How about Sinaloa?

Seriously: I may need to decamp to Mexico to get away from the bullsh!t attack. And frankly…that comes under the heading of “More Trouble Than It’s Worth.”

In brighter realms… Ohhhh my! I wish, Dear Reader, you could have been with me and Ruby on our morning hike. We passed a house where a young father had his toddler out in front. The kid was having a gay old time in a stroller. And…hoooleee maquerel! You have never seen a cuter, more adorable, more awe-inspiringly gorgeous little kid in YOUR LIFE!!!!! 

What a delightful young fella!

See, this is one of a jillion reasons I would never wanna decamp to Sun City. How can anyone live without the glory of little kids? Without the ever-entertaining lunacy of teenagers? Without the harassed joy of young parents?

This is life in the’Hood. And, in my opinion, it’s what makes life worth living!

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Gorgeous morning

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It’s already 8:30 and the day is brain-banging GORGEOUS. Beautiful clear skies. Balmy temps. Dawg yapping at the passers-by. What more could anyone want, eh?

Well…hmmmm…  Absence of pain, for one thing. Whatever went wrong with my hip is still wrong. Hurts like the dickens to get out of a chair, to say nothing of limping across a room.

Ohhh welll…. Thæs overrode; swa may thisse…

Pool Dude came by this morning, bless him! (oooooohhhh beloved Pool Dude!!!!) He left a bill instead of waiting three minutes so I can write him a check. So, alas, the much-deserved payment for his work will have to wait a week to be delivered.

Rummaging through The Economist, one of my fave periodicals, I come across a spread on (un)lovely Saudi Arabia, the hell-hole where I grew up.

Doesn’t sound like it’s a whole lot better than it was in the 1950s. Sure am glad I’m not there now!

Hmmmm….here comes some sorta air-borne vehicle. ……naaaahhhh…. It drifted off to the north. Dunno what it was: not a prop-driven airplane or a jet, that’s for sure. ohhhh well….

The kids who bought Sally’s house (right behind the Funny Farm) put these stupid rotating vents up on the roof. They make a racket whenever a breeze blows. Dunno how the kids can stand it! I’d have blasted the things to Kingdom Come by now.

They also got some guy to patch the roof…with shingles that don’t match the ones that were installed when Sally lived there. That’s…cute.

What IS the matter with people?

Makes a high-rise on North Central Avenue look good. And that’s sayin’ something.

Hmmm…something terrible. 

Lately, I’ve been contemplating just such a high-rise as a possible alternative to moving into the horrifying old-folkerie called The Beatitudes. An apartment stuck on the N-teenth floor of an old-folks’ storage bin does NOT appeal to me. A private apartment in a 15-story rabbit warren doesn’t look much better…but…

On the other hand, I know my son would like to have this house — the sooner the better. And I’d sure like him to have it. But not at the cost of my having to move into some garden spot that I’d wish I’d never seen.

It’s crossed my mind to suggest that he and I trade houses. Then he’d have this place and I’d have his pretty little 1950s red-brick bungalow, within strolling distance of the beloved AJ’s Overpriced Yuppie Supermarket.

Trouble is, those houses were built before there was such a thing as air-conditioning. They were “cooled” (after a fashion) with whole-house swamp coolers. These are none too efficient…as a practical matter, the residents in those days just spent the summers up north, in the high country were the weather was tolerable.

And the houses are, as is appropriate for swamp cooling, leaky boxes. So when you turn on the air-conditioner, you’re actually air-conditioning the whole damn block.

Hmmmmm….  Another strategy we could undertake:

  • I buy his place.
  • He moves in here.
  • I sell his place, and…
  • Use the proceeds to buy an apartment in a Central Avenue high-rise.

Probably couldn’t get enough for his house to get into one of those little boxes in the sky. But…hmmm…really, what do I care? I’ll only be here for a few more months or years — a decade at the very longest. No reason why I couldn’t decamp to a box in the sky, paid for on time. Lots and lots of time….

My mother and I lived in one when we took up residence in San Francisco after we left (un)lovely Saudi Arabia. I loved the place!

Now, I’m not a 12-year-old anymore, and so I no longer regard running up and down the interior fire escapes as an entertaining pastime. But still… Those places are just a few blocks down the road from the beloved AJ’s Overpriced Grocery Store. The train goes right past the front and will drop you off at the store. Mwa ha ha! I’d never have to drive again!!