Coffee heat rising

Urban life

“The Sound of Freedom”…

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Yeah. This morning the weather conditions are perfect: we’re being serenaded nonstop by the “Sound of Freedom,” as my mother used to put it while she perched on her back porch over morning coffee.

Noooo, muther, I used to think. That’s the sound of World War III, comin’ our way.

It never seemed to register with her that those fighter jets weren’t up there for pretty. They weren’t up there to amuse the locals.

They were up there to practice blowing civilization back to the Cave Man Era.

They’ve been blasting away all morning. They start as dawn cracks.

It’s almost 8:30, and we’re still getting ROOOOOAAAAARRRRRR ROOOOAAAARRR ROOOARRR from the air base near Sun City — a good 20 miles away. The racket whams through your solid block walls: there’s no escaping it.

{oh, this is nice: WordPress refuses to insert a link. Check it out: https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/local/glendale/2019/05/17/late-night-f-35-flights-luke-air-force-base-common-during-summer-months/3694405002/}

Really, if my son weren’t here I wouldn’t live in the Valley on a bet.

Dunno, though, where you’d go to escape. Anyplace within 40 or 50 miles is gonna be shuddering with jet engine noise. And the racket no doubt is with us forever…at least for our foreseeable lifetime.

Yea, verily… If my son weren’t here, you can be sure I’d be somewhere else. WHERE else, though, remains a bit of a mystery. Might have to move out of the state. Tibet, maybe???

***

Speaking of morning rackets:

yappa whine
yappa whine
yappa yappa yappa yappa
yap yap WHINE!

Get off duff. Put computer down. Let the dog out.

Let more noise in: rrrrooooarrrr roarrrrrr rrrooaaar…

Any question why the Old Bat is a crabby harridan?

****

LOL! Where could one go that would be quieter?

In theory, the ranch should be, if only it were still accessible to its former owners. But…it’s not.

The ranch sits on the edge of the Mogollon Rim, overlooking the Valley. The West Valley, where Luke Air Force Base reigns noisily supreme. So you’re not gonna get away from much airplane racket up there.

That notwithstanding… {sigh}… I do so miss the ranch. It was beautiful.

Wonder what Ruby would make of a cow? Probably not much, before one of them booted her into the middle of next year.

A ranch dawg, she ain’t! 😀

R-O-O-O-O-A-A-A-A-R-R-R-R

Tryin’ Again…

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Believe we’ve lost several posts since the last time I was here scribbling. And…well…I am NOT in the mood for struggling with the Internet just now.

So let’s freakin’ start over.

Today is Sunday, March 16.

It’s 3:40 in the afternoon. A rather stuffy and damp afternoon, one with high clouds lurking overhead.

Ruby and I are just back from circumnavigating the park. Enjoyed watching teams of young people playing soccer and volleyball. Nice way to spend time…

Contemplated the potential joys of inhabiting some other neighborhood.

My cousin lives in an outlying suburb called Fountain Hills. A little higher in elevation, it’s a bit cooler than the more central parts of the Valley. It’s practically within walking distance of the Mayo Clinic.

Would I like to live there?

I might, if my cousin were just a shade friendlier. For reasons I cannot imagine, she visibly dislikes me. Dunno what on earth I did to piss her off permanently, but she’s openly hostile to me whenever we’re within hollering distance. So…that does nothing to encourage me to move to the far northeast side of the Valley.

How about Sun City?  Way to Hell and gone on the west side?

Ugh! Nothing feels more repellent to me than the Old Folks’ Ghetto. Make that the Whitey-White Old Folks’ Ghetto.

My mother loved the place after she and my father came to light there. But…I never could see the charm to its visual and social monotony.

How about back down into the historic central part of the city?

Well. Yeah: I did like living there. Thirty years ago… However…today? Maybe not so much.

Social-stratum-wise, it’s about the same: a popular destination for the young, the affluent, and the upwardly mobile. But…but….

First off, it’s noisy. The upscale neighborhoods are bordered by large, incredibly busy commuter roads. So every morning and every evening you get roar roar roar from seven-lane roads that don’t let you turn left. A major regional hospital occupies a large corner to the north, and another one stands to the southeast: ambulances shriek past at all hours of the day and night. And Sky Harbor Airport calls jet plane traffic to the south and east, roar roar roar roar roar — also at all hours of the day and night.

So…even though it’s a pretty and a historically interesting neighborhood, it’s less than perfectly ideal. Especially given the crime rate, which is pretty breathtaking.

Not that we don’t have a healthy crime rate up here in Sunnyslop. But with only one regional hospital we do get lots less siren music.

Ohhhhh my…. WHERE would I go if I could escape from lovely uptown Phoenix?

Hm.

Just about noplace in Arizona. It’s much of a sameness, all across the state…when you come right down to it. Loved living on the ranch, but it probably wouldn’t be safe for an old lady: at this age, you need to be closer to medical and social services than thirty miles out in the middle of nowhere.

So…. {sigh}…  I’m probably about in an ideal location, given my age, my health, and my social status. I do like it here, even though there are places I’d like better.

La Maya and La Bethulia have moved to the area around Monterey, California. It is beautiful there. And cold. And foggy. And expensive. No way in Hell could I afford to live there.

SDXB’s relatives live in Seattle. It also is quite lovely. And a bit too expensive for my budget.

I do love New Mexico. But…I don’t know anyone there, and at this age you may be sure I don’t wanna start all over.

Back to the San Francisco Bay Area? All my relatives in those  parts are long gone, left for the Other World many a year ago. No longer knowing anyone there and without a job there, I can’t imagine much of any point in moving back.

So I feel like I’m kinda stuck here, trapped by inertia. There’s noplace else to go to that makes sense, and I sure don’t wanna work hard enough to create any such place.

Arizona: Garden spot. I guess.

And Speakin’ of Colder Than a By-Gawd…

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😀  What an insane afternoon!

We’re back from the late-day perambulation of the park. EGAD, but it’s cold out there! Overcast, windy, and…well.. more than “crisp.” Colder than a by-gawd, as my father would have said.

Ruby has patrolled the neighborhood streets and inspected the park. Clouds have blown up during the time we wandered about: it’s dark gray out there now.

Wunderground predicts an 84% chance of rain…I’d say that’s a conservative estimate. Supposedly 52 degrees out in the backyard just now…but again: I’d say, “conservative estimate.”

We’ve managed to repair to the Funny Farm, and Ruby has taken up her position at the foot of the bed.

…. uhhh….

Well, no: She’s taken up her position at the chow bowl, having rousted the human and demanded a pile of Dawg Food.

😀

{sigh}. I hope the stuff races through her forthwith, so we can get her out into the backyard before it starts to rain. Which will happen…soon, I imagine.

Well…what if?

What if we lived in Fountain Hills, a suburban locale I covet?

It would be colder there than it is here. And no doubt windier.

What if we still lived downtown, in the antique and very classy central-city neighborhoods?

‘Twould be no warmer there than it is here, but a WHOLE lot noisier. We’re comin’ on to rush hour, so would be serenaded with traffic noise and ambulance sirens and fire-engine sirens and…gaaaaaaahhhh!

On the other hand, we’d be closer to M’hijito’s house, so it would be easier for us to pester him. 😀  😀  😀

How’s about Sun City, the garden spot where my parents took up residence for their retirement?

Well…they STILL hate “minorities” out there, even after all these years. A friend of mine — a fella of the dusky persuasion — bought a place in Sun City. He was hounded out in less than six months.

Though I myself am of the paler persuasion, you couldn’t pay me to move out there. What awful people!

So…here we are, Ruby the Corgi and I, loafing on a bed in lovely North Central Phoenix. Ruby has enchanted a number of the locals, having strolled around the park and cutied them into submission. The skies have clabbered up and turned threateningly gray. Ruby, unconcerned, snoozes. I scribble.

What can  we say? Other than arf!

The Joy of Living in the ‘Hood

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Is it even possible to get more ironic than that?

Some a$$hole is flying up and down our little neighborhood street at 40+ mph. Back and forth: roar roar roar.

No. Do not bother to call a cop. That would be a first-class exercise in futility. Just hope the jerk doesn’t hit a kid. Or an unwary neighborhood driver. Or a stray cat. Or a stray dog.

{sigh} Guess that’s just the joy of living anyplace where morons can get access to motor vehicles. But lordie! It’s tedious.

Wednesday in Hell…

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My son is on the way over here to pick me and up and drag me to the Mayo Clinic. Again.

Hope today’s appointment is at the hospital, here in town. Many of their doctors maintain their offices at that place, which is 45 minutes closer to my house than is the Mayo’s palace in Scottsdale.

Since the Mayo aims at an affluent, well-insured audience, they place their clinics and doctors’ offices in upscale parts of the city. That’s all very nice…but our particular upscale neighborhood doesn’t happen to be in either of the two ritsy-titzy locales that the Valley’s Mayo Clinic occupies.

So any trip to a MayoDoc means an endless trudge through cut-throat traffic. It’s an awful drive at any time of day; a rush-hour trip is a species of Hell.

This is why I took up with Young Dr. Kildare, who had an office just up the street. Unfortunately, he and his partners have closed that practice, and he’s moved to Sun City.

Bad sign. When my mother was out there dying, we got more than a superficial taste of the medical care available in Sun City. That’s one reason I wouldn’t retire out there on a bet!!

So, so, SOOOO not in the mood(!!!) to hassle with doctors today. Especially not after an hour’s rush-hour drive. Ugh!

What a fine way to start your day, hm?

Holeee Shee-ut…

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Waiting for the cops to show up.

And waiting…and waiting…and waiting….

Some charmer was sniffing around the front and the east side of the house. Seems to be gone now.

After SDXB chased off his burglars — caught them in the living room and waved his pistol at them — he called the cops. Said it was over 40 minutes before they showed up. At two in the morning…

That was a couple years ago…and one of the immediate causes for his moving to lovely, boring Sun City.

No sign of a gendarme here. Haven’t been tracking the wait time….

**
Okay
They finally appear.
***

Well, one lonely cop shows up. By the time he gets here, there’s not a soul around. Ruby is quiescent. Presumably our visitor has moved on.

I hope.

Garrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!
Dammit, I have got to get out to the range and practice with my father’s pistol!!!

More to the point, I probably need to get a shotgun. Much easier to hit an uninvited visitor.

Cripes! Here’s a cop copter, a couple blocks to the north of us. That suggests Josie must have called them, too.

A uniformed officer showed up at the door about ten minutes after I called. That’s darned good  response time — usually it takes them at least twenty minutes to surface.

Phoenix…
What a garden spot!