Coffee heat rising

Urban life

WHAT IF…you didn’t need a car?

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What if, here in the Great Newnited States of America, here in the ninth-largest city in the nation, on the tenth day of the seventh month of the 25th year of the 20th century, one discovered that…hang onto your hat…that one really didn’t need a car?

Got that?

Holeee shee-ut. What if a person living in one of the largest cities in the nation, one of the least enlightened and most politically conservative states in the nation, did not need to own a car at all? 

Imagine. 

Imagine what that would do to commerce here… To the automotive industry… To the taxicab and hired ride businesses? To busses and trains?

Welp…it’s beginning to occur to me that just such a thing may be the case. 

The other day, my dear son kiped my car.

Yes. My car is locked in his garage and my garage is empty.

The stupid quarrel at the basis of this fine state of affairs aside, the present predicament — if predicament it is — casts light on a whole series of matters. 

* In a city where it never snows and rarely rains, you can get around…and around and around and around…without a car of your own.

* Many of the neighbors are driving for Uber. Consequently, you can get a car-for-hire to show up at your door in five minutes.

* Now that the city has installed train lines on about half the main drags, a train or a bus shows up at the end of your block about every ten minutes.

* A daily train ride or three costs one HELLUVALOT less than a car sitting in your garage.

* Car insurance in Arizona costs, on average, $2,771 a year (!!!). That’s assuming you haven’t gotten a traffic ticket any time in recent years. Add a zillion bucks to that if you got nabbed indulging in any mischief behind the wheel.

So, my friends, what I’m just about discovering is that here in second quarter of the 21st century, it is entirely possible that one does NOT need a car in lovely ungodly Phoenix.

* It may take you no longer to get from Point A to Point B by train, bus, or cab than it does to trudge through the traffic in your own chariot and then park and unpark the thing.

* When you take into account the cost of insurance, storage space, and vehicle maintenance, it may cost no more to travel by cab, bus, or taxi…and in fact may cost significantly less.

* Yea, verily: every minute that tank of yours is parked in the garage or in front of your house, you’re paying some insurance company for the privilege. And it is eternally at risk of theft and vandalism.

Take a look at that damn thing out in the garage or driveway. Do you REALLY need it????

EGAD!

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Holee doggerel! Temps here are supposed to hit 117 today. Nice and cozy, eh?

Ruby the Corgi and I were out the door by 7 a.m. or so…and it didn’t seem any hotter than usual. Maybe it’s just that for most humans, our version of “no hotter than usual” is the same as “too damn hot”…  😀

Let’s bestir ourself to stumble out to the back porch and check the thermometer…  hmmm…. only 100 degrees. Sorry folks: that’s just not all THAT hot.

A little warm, maybe, for 9:11 in the morning. But not THAT hot. Gimme a break!

It is, however, a bit humid. Damp enough to be reminiscent of (un)lovely Ras Tanura, where I grew up on the shore of the Persian Gulf. Yea verily: Saudi Arabia was hotter (and wetter) than the hubs of Hades, not a place normal humans would choose to dwell. But…that was all the time, not just a day or two in the depths of a hellish summer.

And usually, the yak-festers here are not kidding when they say “it’s a dry heat.” When the atmosphere is just plain parched, a hundred degrees doesn’t seem intolerably hot.

Fellow dog-walkers this morning were whining and squawking about (ooooohhh eeeeeek!!!!!!) a terrifying coyote strolling up one of the neighborhood streets. The sheer horror, eh?

What IS the matter with people? Are they really so stupid that they don’t know all they have to do is turn around, glare and the beast, and holler “GIT!!!! B-a-a-a-a-d Dawg! GIT OUTTA HERE!” and the savage person-eating monster will turn right around and run away?

And yes, I do speak from experience.

Don’t know which is the most annoying experience: a confused coyote or a doltish human.

Ohhh well.

At any rate: yes, 117 degrees is passing warm. Hope the AC system holds up through the day. Hmm…  This is Wednesday…so if it doesn’t crap out between now and, say, 2:00 or 4:00 p.m., we should be OK. The repairmen should be out in force, so we won’t have much trouble getting someone to fix it, if need be.

After mid-afternoon, the atmosphere will start to cool a bit: not into the bearable range, but usually into the survivable range.

Meanwhile, we have a predicament: I lost my bicycle the other day.

In a moment of senility, I took it into my graying head to hop on my beloved bike and ride around the area. Stupidly crossed Central Avenue, cruised the upscale area around the parochial high schools over there, and ended up socializing with some neighbor on her front porch.

By the time we broke up that chat-fest, it was getting so hot she thought I should not ride home by myself. So we called my son. He showed up, piled me in his car, and…heh…we both forgot about my bike. 

Well. So I think.

I believed we brought it back here. But it’s not in the garage. And that tells you how fried my brain was.

The other possibility is that M’hijito took it to his house and locked it in his garage, to block me from taking off for any more two-wheeled fugues. Once again, he seems not to be speaking to me, so I dunno whether the bike is at his place or not.

But…if in fact I’ve LOST the bike, there’s a big store right across Main Drag West that sells the things. So I may just walk over there and buy a new bicycle.

Or not. Seems like more work than it’s worth, in this infernal heat. 😀

The city has had to close down all the local hiking trails, in the face of the normal stupidity of humans.

No joke: in 117-degree heat, the local cretins WILL go out in that desert and stumble around the rocky, often steep trails.

Don’tcha wonder how the human species has managed to survive this long?

WTF?????

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Okay, friends…and yes, dear foes: I’m about to tell you something I probably shouldn’t tell you. Or anyone.

Stuff is scaring the Hell out of me…even though it probably shouldn’t.

Weird stuff. Stupid stuff. Even serious rational stuff.

For example…

I lost my bicycle. 

Yeah. Lost it BIG time. Don’t know where. Don’t know how. Have only the vaguest idea of when.

The other day I rode my beloved old gaudy pink bicycle through the ‘Hood and over into the classic North Central neighborhood just to the east of here.

That neighborhood is dominated by two historic Catholic high schools — Xavier and Brophy Preparatory — which are surrounded by staunchly middle-class, boring little homes.

As I got tireder and hotter, I came to light at the home of a woman who was hanging out on her front porch. She invited me to take a seat and rest.

It became apparent, before long, that I probably should not ride my bike home in the heat, especially in the fagged-out state I was exhibiting. She brought out a phone, and we called my son.

Shortly, he showed up in his car, coming to light in front of her house.

He loaded me into the vehicle, and we left: he brought me home and deposited me in the air-conditioning.

Here’s where it gets weird: He apparently forgot to load the bike into his vehicle — or didn’t realize he needed to. When we got home: no beloved pink bike! 

I was very much overheated and not in any state for anything more than tumbling into the sack with a cold washcloth on my head. He drove me over to St. Joseph’s hospital, where, by the time we arrived, I had pretty well recovered and cooled down into a safe status. We came home. I forgot all about the bike…until the next morning, when I realized it is GONE!

I want my bike back! 

Getting weirder now: We can’t figure out where we left it. If we left it anywhere. I thought we’d brought it home and left it in the garage.

But it’s not in the garage. Or inside the house. Or in the backyard. Or…anyplace we can imagine.

Did I actually ride my bike over to the high-school neighborhood and carelessly leave it there, when M’Hijito arrived and toted me off?  Dunno. I have no memory of that. He says not. But…it’s a pretty vague-sounding “not.” Maybe I actually walked into that neighborhood???

If so, where the Hell is the bike?

So… I’m bereft at the loss of a beloved bicycle. But more than that: I’m scared sh!tless at the loss of my IQ points!!!  WTF? WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED? 

That is what’s scaring me. Really, really scaring me.

It’s hotter than the Hubs of Hades outdoors today: temps over 110. So walking back over into that neighborhood and trying to explore around is pretty much out of the question.

And M’hijito is (quite reasonably) pretty much out of patience with this shenanigan. He has a job (can you imagine??) and cannot take off to wander around searching for a bike that by now has probably been spirited off to Yuma.

Dunno whether he recognizes that a big, scary part of this moment of lunacy is that I genuinely cannot remember what actually happened at that lady’s house, not in any detail at all. So frankly, I don’t know if we left the bike there…or what. Probably did…but at this point anything’s possible.

At 6:00 p.m., it’s 108 in the shade of the back porch. Too hot, by far, to go exploring around North Central Phoenix — not that we’d  be likely to find anything.

Meanwhile, M’jito, deeply alarmed with this weird behavior of mine, has kiped my car and locked it into his garage. So I can’t climb into it and drive it around that neighborhood on a searching expedition.

Soooo… I guess my beloved pink bike is gone. As in GONE gone. Along with a few of my brain cells, presumably….

Jayzuz! Don’t get old, whatever ya do!!!

How DO they compete?

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Yea, verily: HOW do local stores compete with Amazon?

Just found myself running low on coffee grounds, something I’d ordinarily buy at AJ’s Overpriced Fancy-Dan Grocery Store.

But… but…

* My car has been purloined. No way I can get it back from the kid. And I can’t get to AJ’s without a car, or a 45 minute round trip by bus and hike.

* Until I can rent or buy another car — or threaten the kid with a lawyer (mine croaked over a few weeks ago…) — I’ll either have to take a bus to AJ’s or hire the neighbor’s Uber cab.

* It’s hotter than the hubs of Hades out there, and so you may be sure I’m in no mood to hike six blocks to a bus stop and stand in the 110-degree heat for 30 or 40 minutes waiting for a bus to show up; then repeat in reverse.

* This jacks up the price of a pound of coffee, to the tune of whatever the taxi driver across the street is charging for a ride to AJ’s and back.

Solution? It’s spelled A-M-A-Z-O-N

Mercifully, Amazon does sell fresh (supposedly) coffee beans. So whenever I get into gear, the first chore of the morning will be to order a bag of coffee from there. And here’s my favorite brand…only a little overpriced. Probably about the same as AJ’s charges.

So there’s the question: How do stores like AJ’s and Sprouts compete with Amazon?

Seriously: at some point it’s worth spending an extra buck or two to have stuff delivered to your front door. And the hotter it is outside, the closer that point gets.

Back!!(wards…)

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WHY does the Cleaning Lady do this????  No matter how many times she’s been here — and it’s been dozens & dozens — she invariably installs the roll of kitchen towels backward.

EVERY TIME. Backward: no matter what.

😀

I like paper towels to unroll over the top, with the loose end coming toward the user. This, to me, is the easy way to access them, and the least wasteful (because you have easy control over how many sheets peel toward you off the roll).

Luz, on the other hand, has other ideas. She installs the towels so they unroll away from the user, toward the wall where the towel holder is hanging. This, IMHO, is a PITA.  😀

Every time she’s here, she puts the towels in backward. Every time she leaves, I re-install them to fit my taste in paper-towel rolling. Every time she returns, she re-re-installs them backward.

{OOOOOh geez! Pool Dude just walked in, triggering a frenzy of Dog Joy. WHY does this dog love that man so much???}

He’s already done! Man! That guy does a job in 10 or 15 minutes that takes me half an hour or 40 minutes. And he does it about ten times better than I can.

My, how Ruby adores that man! And I have to say, given all the hassles he spares me, I’m in love, too!

{sigh} He just hyper-chlorinated the drink. So I won’t be jumping in there to cool down from the morning’s Dog Safari. But that’s OK…at least I don’t have to mess with toxic quantities of chlorine.

And Speakin’ of ARGHA!…

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BING BOOONGGGGGGG!

Ohhhh gawd, NOW what? Stumble to the front door.

It’s the CLEANING LADY FROM HEAVEN! Ohhh damn ohhh hell I thought NEXT week was her week….

Stumble out to the living room. Let her in. Start to pick up litter.

And pick up litter….

And pick up litter….

And pick up litter….

And pick up litter…..

Ohhhhh damn oh hell oh damn…I’d put off this mess until next week!

B-a-a-a-a-d Human!!!!!!!

What’s going on in the backyard?

NO! Hallelujah, boys and girls: it’s NOT Pool Dude. Just the wind blowing stuff around. That’s something. I guess…except tomorrow a.m. we’ll have to vacuum up another nice mess.

This place…

This place…

Gotta think about this place…

Am I gonna stay here for The Duration? SHOULD I???

Those apartments on the west side of Conduit of Blight Boulevard…hmmmm…. They ARE going downhill
…and down…
and down…

They were OK when I moved in to the neighborhood. But over the years, they’ve declined. And just now the decline is mighty steady.

If I’m gonna move to a more stable district, I may have to do so soon. Because…  I do want to leave this house (make that a house) to M’hijito…but it’s gotta be a place that will hold its value.

And just now, that ain’t entirely clear to me. If those apartments continue to slide downhill, they surely will pull down the property values in the surrounding neighborhoods.

Maybe…

Maybe…

Maybe…

…I should betake myself to Scottsdale or Paradise Valley or Fountain Hills before that process gets any further under way.

But dayum, I don’t wanna move. I’ve done more than my share of moving in my lifetime — and then some — and don’t wanna do it again. Especially now that I’m old!

My son expects to sock me away in an old-folkerie, in the not-too-distant future. I expect to take a flying leap off the North Rim of the Grand Canyon before that happens…but either way, this shack needs to hold its value so it can get him into a place that will be a decent investment, real estate-wise. That may mean I’ll need to FIND such a decent investment…now…and get into it before much more time elapses.

Ugh. Spare me yet another move!!!