Inside Out Seasons

There is a phenomenon that I’ve experienced twice a year since moving to Arizona that I don’t’ remember experiencing in any other places I’ve lived.  It happens in the spring and again in the fall though the manifestations are complete opposites.  It’s been occurring here again at my abode the past week creating a nightly debate on whether or not to open the windows before bedtime. Spending 6 months stuck in air-conditioning breathing the same recycled air gets tiresome and I always attempt to put it off as long as I can.

During both spring and fall the temperature inside and the temperature outside just don't seem to match the season.  In the fall the outside temp can be around 74, 75 and inside the house it can struggle to hit 66.  If I dress based on the inside temp I’m overdressed.  When spring rolls around it can be cooler outside at around 75 and inside the house my thermometer tells me its 85.  No matter where I’ve lived here apartment, house, and now a trailer it happens, though I’m not sure if living in this trailer makes that discrepancy more noticeable or not.  Either way those occurrences become the best times of year to sit outside with a drink in one hand and a book in the other.

Spring has sprung in virtually every part of the country by this point in the year. Some locales are still experiencing cold nights after a day of glorious sunshine and open windows. Spring in most places means the snow shovel can go back in the garage and it’s time to string up the hammock in anticipation of those lazy days of summer. Spring brings rain that helps trees regain their foliage, flowers to bloom, and can cause flooding if the snowpack was rather deep the past winter. We have those bursts of nature out here in the desert southwest only we have flash floods instead, because drainage is afterthought and water goes where it wants to.

Here in Arizona we experience spring with a daily prayer that we won't have to turn the A/C on just yet. The average first 100 degree day is May 2nd and since we've already hit 100 this year you know the old A/C has been earning its keep. 

We've already prepared ourselves for that boiled owl feeling that occurs every Arizona summer, that time is fast approaching.  Because everything is air-conditioned here one is willing to venture outside, hopefully without burning your hands on the steering wheel before a trip to the grocery store.  The sun so hot I froze to death could very well apply if you work in an office out here. Most buildings here in summer typically have a temperature setting rivaling that of a meat locker; stepping outside will make you shiver.  It is not uncommon to see someone waiting for a bus in 110 degree heat with a sweater over their arm and it just looks odd, really odd. 

Summer here can be like winter in other places; that extreme in temperature you just learn to deal with because you live there. We sure do get some gorgeous sunsets though.

An NFL Experience

     The Super Bowl has come to town for the third time since I’ve lived in Arizona; this time with my wife’s favorite team in tow. We donned our Patriots gear and hopped the Metro to downtown Phoenix for the NFL Experience; a first time experience for us both. We were definitely in the minority in our Pats gear as the train filled up with fans festooned in Seahawks colored garb along the way. A couple times chants of “Sea!” Hawks!” rang out during the trip; we got really tired of hearing it break out inside the venue too.

    We arrived to a sea of people overrunning downtown Phoenix.  This was a huge crowd; a churning mass of humanity milling about seeking football fan nirvana.  Every inch of real estate that wasn’t covered by tents or signs was being tread upon by thousands of feet. We decided to hit Super Bowl Central; they handed us a map and asked if we ended help finding anything. Thus began our typical event staff interactions for the day, which was essentially the same no matter where they were or what they were doing.  When asked a question they’d lift their right arm, point and say, “Go that way.” Not a lefty in the bunch, what are the chances of that?

    While we tried to find the entrance, we wandered by a few exhibits outside like the Street Art Throw-down, which explained why my nose was assaulted with the odor of spray paint; sanctioned graffiti featuring brilliant colors with an Arizona Super Bowl theme. There were also a few strategically placed street corner preachers with headset mics proselytizing through a PA, while others passed out leaflets; only in America, side by side spectacles of such extremes in the same venue.

     We discovered the line to get inside snaked along one entire side of the Phoenix Convention Center and almost to the end of the next; you couldn’t see your destination until you got close to the entrance. The line squeezed us down into lanes created by barriers that allowed only 2 at a time to walk comfortably side by side.  Once inside the staff did the arm thing again and directed us toward the entrance for those who had tickets like ourselves. 

                                               "Go that way"

Finally inside the building

    

     For an NFL junkie this is the place to be, though if you want to experience everything it can’t all be done in one day, because this is just like a huge theme park. The most popular events like the autograph stage and the field activities had ridiculously long lines which will eat up a lot of time.  The event spanned 3 floors in the convention center, with the main activities and the pro shop on the first floor. The elbow to elbow crush of humanity created by the setup made for a lot of bumps and twists to make your way through the crowd; stopping anywhere was asking to be run into by a little kid or someone not looking where they were going. Can you say epic madhouse?  We poked around in the pro shop for a bit then decided to head on inside.

                                         Sensory overload

     The walk into the main venue was pure sensory overload; the panorama shot doesn’t even scratch the surface on the noise, lights, and stuff that sprawled in front of us. We picked the path of least resistance crowd-wise and set off to see what we could find. What we found was akin to a NFL Disney; we found lines, lots of them, and very long too. We also finally found more Patriot fans inside enjoying the festivities in their typical low key New England way; an exchange of “Go Pats” and a smile as we passed were about as rowdy is it got.

One of the Field Event Areas

Funky old team jackets

Program from first ever AFL game

Hall of Fame ring, Strahan's 

     There were NFL films on massive TVs all over the place and they were all playing different highlights. There was a nice display of old pictures, programs and uniforms from the Hall of Fame. The busts and rings from the 2014 class were on display; those rings are HUGE. We wandered through a display where they were making and selling Wilson footballs, got our picture taken next to the NFL draft podium, and met a group of Pats fans that came out for the game.  We were all waiting to put our face on a fully equipped Pats player statue. There was one of those for every team placed throughout the place; some had lines for pictures while others were used by folks to sit and rest tired feet.  The big display on the upper level showed the history of pro football from 1870’s to the present day and had some cool old time pics. There was so much to see, we walked and walked and walked some more.  This was definitely a total immersion NFL experience any fan, whether die-hard or casual, should have an opportunity to be a part of.

Drafted #1

                                              

     We made the Pro Shop our last stop of the day. The checkout line snaked around and through the shop till you reached a mini maze of those airport ribbon barriers. When you arrived at the end of the line the cashiers waved a flag to signal who was next. We took a lot of pictures to document our day, which was a hell of a lot of fun.

                                     " Honey take the picture I"m on my tiptoes!"

                    Time for a brief respite and a selfie before the trip home.

      We hopped the Metro for the ride home, which was standing room only; stand we did all the way home. We had a couple of swings and misses trying to find a place for a decent sit down dinner, though we did witness another fabulous Arizona sunset. 

     

     We were both so tired and hungry by the time we sat down to eat we agreed we would have eaten a tire covered with butter. Everything hurt except my hair by the time we got home, though I wouldn’t have missed it for the world knowing how happy it made my lovely wife. Her smile at the end of the day made it all worthwhile. When Malcolm Butler made a game-saving interception the next day, it tied a nice bow on a great weekend.

Tag, You're In and the Floppy Socks are Out

     When the New Year rolls around, as it just did, conversation often turns to the question of New Year’s resolutions. What New Year’s resolutions are you making and how long do you think you will stick to them?  The idea, in essence, makes a lot of sense; we just passed through a time of introspection and reflection on the year that was, as Christmas and whatever holiday you celebrate blew in through your front door and out the back. Then again maybe not, everyone celebrates the holidays in their own way and some folks are just happy to see the previous year in the rear view mirror as we look to a fresh start.

     New Year’s resolutions have been around since ancient times and are recorded as far back as the Babylonians and the Romans. The Romans moved the practice from March back to January, apparently as an offering to the God Janus, where we get the name for the month of January.  This god had two heads looking in opposite directions, one looking at the year ahead, the other head peering back at the year behind.  No doubt Saturday nights in the land of the gods must have been difficult; when you have two heads wanting to go in opposite directions deciding which party they were going to run off to probably ended in a tug of war. As you can see in the pic above he has his party jug at hand. I bet he walked sideways a lot.

     The beginning of a new year is similar to the experience of driving a stretch through a winding road only to finally come around a blind curve that opens into a long straightway. That straight stretch of road appears to have no end as it touches the horizon in the distance, though we know perception lies a lot and that straightaway may contain a dip we don’t see and a turn or three as we keep on truckin’. Maybe that’s where New Year’s resolutions come in to the picture; either way we get to see where the road leads.

     As we drive, those resolutions can become navigational aids or convenient clubs left by the side of the road to pick up and beat ourselves over the head with when we feel the need. The old standby resolutions such as eating better, losing weight, getting more exercise, quitting smoking or drinking have the potential to lend themselves to frequent stops to grab a club. From this seat I see those as year round sort of resolutions; whether it’s January, May or October I can always start my year over.  I kind of consider offering the old standbys as my New Year’s resolutions as being kind of lazy on my part; most of those pop up all year long for me anyway, so I know I am and will continue to be a work in progress.

      My resolutions tend to be a little outside the norm and I fully claim the right to make new ones at any time of the year. Last year in March I had to make a late resolution to not wear my shirt to work inside out. Apparently I threw on my polo shirt inside out one morning and didn’t notice until someone asked me why I had a tag on the outside of my shirt halfway through the day. I didn't bother switching it around at that point, why argue with success?

   A brief side rant here: Why do we call polo shirts polo shirts? I remember when these types of shirts started showing up everywhere during the 80’s we called them golf shirts, because golfers seemed to be the only ones wearing them.  There is a lot more people that play golf anyway. Who the hell knows anyone that plays polo?  Seriously, full contact croquet on horseback with a soccer goal and we name a shirt for that?  No, nah, nah, nah no, false. Okay, end rant now where was I? Ah, resolutions for a new year and the right to change them, or not.

     I’ve decided to keep the not wearing my shirt inside out to work resolution, and will apply that to all apparel with tags, though my wife and I disagree on one item. I say underwear doesn’t count because no one sees it, she disagrees; the eternal debate rolls on.

     Another resolution I am going to stick with this year is to try some type of food I have never eaten. A few months ago I ate guacamole for the first time. To me it is the most disgusting looking stuff; I thought it looked more like lizard puree than something edible. As far as I’m concerned it still is horrible looking stuff, though now I can say it tastes good. Live and learn I guess, though I do reserve the right to not eat cottage cheese again. Ever.

    Another resolution I’ve made for this year is a kind of two in one. I decided at least a couple times a month to wear different colored socks to work. That idea will test my creativity with a collection of socks that are either black, grey, or brown, which leads to part two. I resolve to purge my sock drawer of all my Pete Maravich socks. You know the ones I’m talking about; the ones with the elastic that is shot so they just puddle around your ankles. Hmm, I guess there is a part three here too. I suppose I’ll also have to rid my sock drawer of all the socks I’ve sharpened my toenails on for so long I can read the newspaper through the toe.

   I resolve to make more lists this year to give myself a visual reminder to not forget to do the stuff I keep forgetting to do. I think I will do them in pencil, because those trusty old pencils need some love too. I think I have a sharpener stashed in my office supplies box, its probably hidden under the box of staples I bought 5 years ago. This list idea is done under the guise of having my office be more organized. Now if I can keep the top of my desk a little more clutter free I might be able to find said list. 

     My resolution for this weekend is to put all the Christmas stuff back in the shed and fill the recycle bin with the boxes left over from Christmas shipping. The cats will lose their playhouse, though they have more than enough toys around here to keep them amused; especially the hair ties from the two-legged in the house.

     My wish for your New Year is one of good health and much success. Hopefully you will all find the time to find a good spot to watch the sun rise or set, take in the glow of a full moon with someone you care about, find some flowers to get a good whiff of and just basically  be happy. I say this to you and also to myself. We have a new year to mold, enjoy it and fill with new memories. Here's to making it a good one.

     

It's a Brown Christmas Charlie

Christmas lights on palm trees, a very Arizona Christmas.

    Winter time in many locales is usually infused with brown as the primary color in the surrounding scenery; trees are hanging out naked, the last few leaves to jump from their limbs huddle at the base patiently waiting for the first leaf blower of spring. Your lawn takes on the color of the walls of your first low budget apartment, producing the sound of walking on a bed of corn flakes in your daily trek to investigate the postman’s offerings of more flyers and promises to save you money on your car insurance.

     Of course you could be lucky enough to have Santa deliver a blanket of snow for the holiday season, no doubt your opinion of the word luck determined by how thick that blanket is and whether or not the snow blower has enough gas on hand to allow you to make it possible to see the driveway again before spring time.  Of course, not everything is a dull shade of brown or dusty white, if there are evergreens populating your home turf. There is nothing quite like snow on evergreens, unless you happen to be standing beneath one when gravity decides it is time to free itself from its winter coat. 

                                                      

   Winter, no matter where you live brings to mind images of warm socks, thermal duds, and sitting in front of a crackling fireplace sipping something hot, either toddies or cocoa, whichever way your pleasure tends. We actually do that in Arizona, winter is winter, and desert cold is cold even if you think 50 is not. My friends from back East laugh at me when I tell them it’s cold here. I've realized cold is a relative term.  If you live in a place where the summer high is in the neighborhood of 85-90, and you drop the temperature 65-70 degrees, that’s kind of cold; not the “It’s so cold I’m going to die and it feels like there’s a porcupine in my nose’ type of cold. It’s just cold period. In this part of Arizona the summer highs typically get to 110-115 and if you drop the temp here 65-70 degrees that is going to feel cold.  That’s winter just being winter.

    Winter also brings thoughts of the holiday season to come; the snap in the morning air becomes a bit snappier after the goblins disappear from our sidewalks and plans turn to important things, like who can’t sit next to each other at Thanksgiving dinner.  By the time the last of the leftovers have finally disappeared from the fridge, Christmas decorations have been dragged from the attic or shed and begun to make appearances in our environs, including the dreaded strands of Christmas lights.

                                            Simple elegance.

                                                             

                        Shrek the Halls, or the front yard

                                                          

     In backyards and garages, on porches and patios everywhere, innocent Christmas lights become victims of a stream of vitriol usually reserved for the driver that hurries to get in front of you so he can go slow. This is done no doubt in the expectation that swearing at that rats nest of lights will magically cause them to untangle themselves before they swath the house in Christmas cheer for the coming weeks. Have no fear, those sturdy strands of blinking beauty can handle a few cuss words; all they want to do is show off and they do it oh so well.

             
                My first ever sighting of a reindeer with a parachute.

A cul-de-sac offering

      In Arizona, where brown is virtually a year round color scheme, the fall and winter months are when we start to see color, especially around Christmas time. Christmas lights are much more prevalent here than what I remember from the cold Northeast.  I've decided it has to be because it’s much more comfortable putting up lights when its 55 degrees outside as opposed to 25; no doubt when you’re hands aren't stiff with cold it’s a tad bit easier to really go all out. This is a sprawling city, filled with neighborhoods often built like a giant cul-de-sac, each containing a several smaller ones within their borders. It is apparent the residents of that cul-de-sac either get together to simply entertain or try to outdo the others in their semi-circle in the city. The light displays are impressive, whether they are simple and whimsical or garish and garbled, they have an inherent ability to bring out the season. Seeing Christmas lights wrapped around a palm will always make me giggle; I guess I‘m just an old Yankee and still associate Christmas lights with evergreens not desert plant life. I make a point to look for someone both brave and foolish enough to put Christmas lights on a cactus; it’s not impossible though removal time must be fraught with prickly consequences.

The group of lights in the back are in a tree that's tough to see in the pic. It looks like someone stood on the roof and threw them into the tree. 

The main drag in Gilbert, Arizona

   My wife and I enjoy looking at Christmas lights and finally decided to take some pictures this year, which are included here. We had a lot of fun driving around looking for interesting displays; the time just melted away.  We made a special trek to see if the little farm we were married at was lit up for the hoiliday; alas there we no lights lit at our special place.  As we gazed out the windows on our trek homeward what to our wondering eyes did appear, but a dune buggy lit up with Christmas cheer. A hasty pursuit culminated in a parking lot filled with more buggies lit to celebrate the season, some in the process of being loaded for home.  We interrupted a couple and their teenage son as they were beginning the process of loading their buggy on a trailer. They were both gracious enough to stop and talk to us for a few minutes. 

                                          
                                     Just a few of the buggy light parade.

   The wife told us that the group started about 7 years ago with just a handful of folks getting together to decorate their buggies and ride around town. Over the past several years it has grown to the point where 60 buggies joined in for this year’s night time light parade. We stopped to grab a few pics. It was a really neat way to end our Christmas light trek through the city.

   I've lived out here in the desert the past 20 years and Christmas still manages to sneak up on me, probably due to the fact snow is never in the forecast during this time of year. Seeing Christmas lights adorning houses, lampposts and palm trees is usually what it takes to get me in the Christmas spirit; Christmas lights on palm trees will never cease to make me smile.  This year seemed to fly by, don’t they all the older you get, this year I decided to put some thoughts of the season down on paper, or at least something approaching paper. My wish for you all is your Christmas was the merriest of all and the New Year brings success, love, good health and happiness.

                                                             

                            

                       

                   
    This was the find of the night with video below as a perfect compliment.

     

     I saved this for last. Turn the sound up on the video. We had the car radio tuned to a station playing Christmas music; timing as they say is everything.

                             

                                                        

    

    

Throwback Pitcher

     

     I rarely will sit and watch baseball on the tube anymore, though I have been to a few D-Backs games at “whatever the hell they call it now” Field in Phoenix. It really is much more enjoyable in the stands than on TV because you realize there is more going on than what the camera can show you at any given moment. My baseball on TV watching is pretty much confined to catching some of the World Series. There are two memorable examples for me of catching just the World Series at seasons end; now I have a third. The first was when our local Diamondbacks beat the Yankees on a bloop single in game 7 back in 2001; it was great to finally have a championship for an Arizona team. The other was an even bigger deal for this New England mutt. I could have sworn there was something in my eye watching the Red Sox finish a sweep of the Cardinals back in 2004; I couldn't help wishing some of the die-hard Red Sox fans I knew could have been there to witness what I did that night. Many of them have passed on, including my dad, so the end of the game was thoroughly surreal and bit overwhelming. Now if the Cubs could just get there and do the same, it would probably stop global warming.

     Along comes this past Wednesday night, and I managed to catch the last few innings of Game 7 of the World Series, which was the first bit of baseball I watched all season. I’d had kind of half an ear tuned to the series, so I knew the teams were taking turns kicking the crap out of each other.

     I was surprised to see a one run game in the 6^th inning, so I decided what the heck watch the last few innings and see which team self-destructs.  What I saw was a pitching display that will be written about for years to come, especially with the current way pitchers are handled.  As I watched I was amazed at how he gave those guys nothing to hit, and could still turn it loose when he needed. The network flashed a graphic across the screen showing what the Giants Madison Baumgardner was doing hadn't been done in over a 100 years; a few weeks ago I wrote a piece about something similar :

http://theholeinthepaper.blogspot.com/2014/09/where-are-all-guys-with-rubber-arms.html

   

     Being a failed Little League pitcher myself, that lead the league my last year in plunking kids in the head, I am prone to admire a pitcher that has command of a game the way Baumgardner did the other night.  Being witness to a demonstration like that for a part time baseball fan was definitely a happy accident.  My hope is some real baseball fans got to partake as well. 

That's Too Many

     I was talking to someone the other day about moving and about how many times they had moved in the past few years. We both wondered why there is always that box of stuff that magically disappears after you finish moving. You know that box; you drive yourself crazy looking for that one thing you can’t find anywhere during your unpacking, so it must be in that box. I decided to yank the thread on that old sweater by trying to list all the places I’ve lived since 1980.  I started with 1980 because for a good portion of 1979 my address was my van or whatever couch I could find to crash on and the rest of it appears to be stuck in that memory spot that stubbornly refuses to be anything more than liquid tar. I’ve been in this house for eight years, which is the longest I’ve lived anywhere since I was a kid, so I chose the end year of 2006. I scratched out a list and was surprised when it added up to 20. Holy crap! Looking at the list there were five locations that totaled 18 of the years in that 26 year span.  Before moving in here, the longest I stayed anywhere was 6 years, 3 of them were a little over or a little under 3 years, one was a little over 2 and the other was a just short of a year.  After doing the math and coming up with 15 more moves in remaining 8 years it is no wonder I hear the word “moving” and I just run away, nowhere in particular mind you, just away.  I also counted the 2 summers I spent living in a campground while my house was being built as one because it was the same campground. 

     I bought my first house in Richmond, Virginia in 1985, only stayed there one year. It was a cute little place, 3 small bedrooms, though it had a nice sized yard where I was able to have my first and only garden; the tomatoes and cucumbers took over the area behind the garage, those jokers just don't quit growing. The day we packed the truck to leave it was 60 degrees or so outside, shorts and tee shirts were the attire of the day and the date was in the first week of February.  Our caravan landed in Connecticut in the early evening on moving day and we unloaded while slipping and sliding on the snowpack of 6 or 7 inches that covered the ground. The next morning I almost choked on my morning coffee when I read the thermometer. It was all of 4 degrees.  Timed that one well didn’t I?  

 

                                                   Richmond, VA 1985                                            

                                              

      My move out here to Arizona from Connecticut was another example of epic timing. The idea for that move started during February in the middle of a driving wet snow. I was plowing snow for the apartments I worked at with a ’72 GMC ¾ ton that had most definitely seen better days. The cab mounts were so rusted and rotted I held my breath when I turned a tight corner: I was sure the cab was going to roll right off the frame.  The exhaust had pretty much rotted off, there was maybe 2 feet or so out of each manifold, it was so loud it set off car alarms when I started it up. The bald-ass front tires leaned in opposite directions, but hey they were snow tires!  The best part was the heater, what heater, this was the last year GM had the cab with that little fart fan for heat and defrost.  Needless to say the old truck was struggling to handle the near century record snowfall that winter of ’93. We tried to rig the vents a bit to try and keep the windshield clear. Yeah, not so much. The ends of the windshield would freeze over with snow and ice so I‘d have to get out every half hour or so to clean it off, then hope I didn't get poked in the ass by a stray seat spring on my return. Hanging my head out the window didn’t help either, my hat kept blowing off in the wind. After yet another excursion for ice removal I hopped back in the truck and said to my then girlfriend, “This shit is getting old”. She replied, “Let’s move somewhere warm.”  “Ok”, I said, where do you want to go?”  “Phoenix, Arizona”, was the first words out of her mouth.  I sort of shrugged and said, “Ok let’s do it.” 

                                                                                         
                                                                        

The Rot Box

 

    
     After selling almost everything we owned, we proceeded to drive 2,500 miles across the country in 2 vehicles with no A/C. On the 29^th of June 1994 we hit Phoenix proper,it was 7a.m., smack dab in the middle of the morning parking lot on the freeway through the center of town. The big bank sign with the thermometer read 103 degrees.  What in the blue fuck had I gotten myself in to? The daily high temperature that first week didn’t drop below 115. I felt liked a boiled owl most of that first summer. I’ve only moved 7 times in my 20 years here, so my average time of staying any one place is getting better.  This has been a pretty good place to live. I’ve met a lot of good people, buried a few that taught me more than a few things, experienced untold amounts of self-discovery and managed to stumble across the lovely young woman that is now my wife.  All-in-all its been a good run, though I’ve come to realize I miss bodies of water not dug by a backhoe and trees that didn’t come on a truck.  I miss green. Brown is an ok color, though I prefer it in more when in the form of chocolate or coffee.

Somedays Life is a Bob Seger song

Over the past 24 hours or so around here I’ve felt like I was living the last verse of the Bob Seger  song, Night Moves; you know the line that goes,” I woke last night to the sound of thunder", and I woke last night to the sound of thunder and I woke last night to the sound of thunder; Sensing a pattern here? “How far off I sat and wondered…” Hell, I didn’t wonder how far off it was, it was right over my damn house. Living in the desert we don’t often get thunderstorms that last and last like this one. Thank you Norbert for this extremely big and extremely wet storm, which gave us the highest rainfall total in one day since weather records were first kept in 1895 for the Phoenix area. The morning commute was interesting to say the least. Most of the streets in the cities around the valley are either 5 or 7 lanes with 2 or 3 lanes each way and a center suicide lane for left turns. Today most of them were all 3 or less because there was so much standing water. The storms drains are so not equipped to handle it and that is partly because they are usually clogged with road debris or palm fronds and other tree parts that fly around when we have dust storms.  Some entire districts cancelled school; others made it optional or asked students to come in late.  I was so glad I didn’t have to be on the road at rush hour after watching the news this morning. We had a lot of callouts where I work due to road closures and flooding. The morning here was akin to waking to a massive snowstorm overnight and the city almost ground to a halt.  Some cities weren’t hit as bad, kids went to school and the world wasn’t coming to an end, it only felt like it.

     When it came time for me to brave the elements I was more concerned about the other people on the road than the rain itself. I decided to try to get some pics of what was happening on the way in. Since I solo commute I knew it would be a challenge though I figured I’d at least get an opportunity when I hit my usual traffic light or two on the way in. The other part of that equation has to do with my cell phone camera. We have a hate –hate relationship, I hate it and it hates me back. It will only take decent pictures outside, forget indoors, even with every light in the room on they just come out dark. And no I’m won’t be getting a new cellphone my alarm clock is just fine thank you. I laughed like hell later when I had a chance to see the pics I managed to take this morning at the traffic lights I was stopped at. Line up the shot, ready to click and the light turns green and we’re off again,  so they didn’t really come out very good, but I’ll let you decide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it any wonder no one asks me to take pictures since I have a tendency to cut off the tops of peoples heads too?

 

 

Here are some links to some better shots of what went on around here this Manic Monday and Google images for Arizona Record rainfall has some real good ones too. 

 

http://www.azcentral.com/story/weather/2014/06/10/arizona-monsoon-photos/10308627/

 

http://www.azfamily.com/news/Up-to-100-homes-in-Mesa-threatened-by-floodwaters-274415111.html

 

I think they these folks have a better relationship with their camera then I do. I wonder if counseling would help me and my cellphone cam work through our issues?

 

 

Light show

Last night we were treated to another Arizona light show in the sky. The lightning here is amazing to watch. My wife and I stood outside next to the car port for a while last night taking in its splendor. The wind was whipping at us from the east, which means it came straight down our little driveway next to the trailer. The temp had dropped after another hot as hell day and the cool breeze felt really refreshing. Standing there, hair whipping around our faces just drinking it in, the slight smell of rain in the air; then wham!... eyeful of dust. Then the rain started, not a real rainstorm, it was that smattering of moisture that covers your car with a rash of little brown dust spots type of rain. Standing quietly in what passes for dark in the city hearing sounds akin to someone throwing handfuls of pebbles on your roof we were blessed with sideways rain spotting our faces with little cooling kisses. I‘ve noticed that horizontal rain seems to happen out here in the West a lot more often than I remember from back East.

We stood there facing into the wind, arms around each other talking about how different lightning acts here in Arizona compared to our hometowns in New England. Watching the lightning run across the bottom of a cloud then split off into 2, 3 or 5 strikes heading toward the ground is like happening upon an impromptu fireworks display, "Whoa did you see that one! Wow that was so cool, it was huge!"  Faces turned to the sky we discussed the idea that there had to be a reason why the lightning here displays differently than it does back home. We decided that some science person could explain it but we really didn't care. We were there just to enjoy the show.

 

 

 

 

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Arizona Rain

 I've lived in Arizona for 20 years and I still smile when I'm driven to go outside and watch or stand in the rain. It happens so infrequently that it becomes an event. It rained two nights ago and my wife and I went outside to watch the lightning and the rain. It had been over 100 days since the last rain of any consequence, at least at my house, that we also experienced another Arizona phenomena. If you've ever smelled a pile of dirty socks in a damp basement then you were right there. That first rain after a long dry spell STINKS! All the collected dust on everything from just normal everyday occurrences plus the additional piled on from our dust storms makes the air smell really bad when it gets wet. I am still waiting for that first hard rain that clears the air and makes a lake at the end of my driveway. That first big rain nearly begs for you to go stand outside in it or as we do,  just take a walk around the neighborhood in it mainly because it feels good. Coming from New England as I do I never thought I would miss the rain or want a break from almost continual sunshine.  Guess I was wrong.