Meatballs, Conrad and Cave Creek

My wife was out of town the other night, a quick trip to Sedona to spend an evening with her brother, who was vacationing there. I was left alone to fend for myself and Hobie the Rat Terrier. It was quite a night; we had our first monsoon in weeks. It knocked out the satellite, so I wasn’t able to see all of Grizzly Park, in which a deranged killer, and deranged bear seek out eight young campers. Probably the only time that one will be on the tele.

Hobie and I were having meatballs for dinner. Meatballs and marinara sauce to be exact.
Feeding Hobie gave me a flashback to 1974, when a friend and I were living in Cave Creek, Arizona. This was back when people didn’t know that Cave Creek existed. Donaldo and I had become gainfully employed restaurant workers at Joe Connolly’s Elbow Bend. Like most 18 year olds at the time as soon as we got our first paychecks we bolted out of our folks’ houses and rented an apartment in Cave Creek.

Our first place, a two-bedroom apartment behind the old Circle K was a whopping $160 a month, plus utilities. It didn’t take us long to tire of the high rent district, and we found a “cottage” behind the Herb Pot restaurant for only $100 a month. Now this was living.

Just down the road from us was The Maverick, a watering hole where a lot of restaurant workers headed at the end of the night. It was pretty basic, a slump block building, and inside a couple of pool tables, a shuffle game, plenty of cold beer, and a juke box, (which was my introduction to C&W music).

We’d walk down there after work, and Conrad, my cat would cruise down there with us. He’d hang out around the phone booth chasing moths that were attracted by the light. Stu, the bartender wouldn’t let him in...an age thing I think. When we finished up we’d head out, collect Conrad and head home, with him lagging a bit behind us. He never would keep pace with us.

Here’s where it all comes together. I don’t remember what minimum wage was in ’74, but it wasn’t much. To help stretch out our resources, we’d take home the extra spaghetti and meatballs which were a weekly special. Conrad developed a great taste for spaghetti and meatballs that amazed my mother once she found out. I still love them. That’s it, full story!

Autumn Approaches

An astronomer I’m not, but a stargazer yes. In Boy Scouts I was barely able to find and identify the five constellations that were needed to get my stars checked off for First Class. That was Troop 301, Homewood Illinois. Ben Prince was the Scoutmaster, and Bill Stiener was the Assistant Scoutmaster. That’s not today’s point, but it is good subject matter for the future. I had a blast in scouts, and only left because once I was 18 I was too old to stay.

Point being that I was up the other morning (I get up around 4:00am), and went out back to take a look at the sky. It’s one of the best parts of the day right now in the great southwest desert, cool, quiet, and at that time the sky still isn’t light in the east. What I did see was my old friend Orion, one of the few constellations I recognize. He was just coming up in the east. Along with Orion the new quarter moon was just coming over the horizon, and just below that Venus was shining bright. Nearly overhead were the Pleiades, which my friend Michael O. pointed out to me a few years ago.

If you’ve made it this far you could be asking yourself, great, what’s the point? Point is that it means autumn is on the way. There is a change of season in the desert. It’s subtle, and it’s happening now. Days are just a bit shorter, and the nights are cooler (really, they are, it’s only 95 now, at 8:30pm). The difference is most noticeable in the morning and evening; the light is softer and gentler. That harsh summer edge is slipping away, and along with it the most intense of the heat.

I also saw my first V of geese the other morning, which seems strange here. There are some geese that stay here all summer, a bit misinformed on the entire matter I guess. That first flight is another indicator of fall; it’s always good to see them. More flights will be following before long.
We don’t rake leaves, put them in piles and burn them at the curb like we did in Chicago. We’re not thinking about sweaters or long pants yet for that matter. There are cool mornings on the patio drinking coffee, and earlier sunsets from the same vantage point. Mountains seem to take on a purple tinge this time of year. In the desert the autumn moon is a little larger, the stars and planets are a little brighter and closer. There’s nothing like the autumn. It brings back great memories, and holds the promise of even better ones to be made.

We have an alien living with us, and we paid for her, and after a few days we also named her. She’s about a foot and a half tall, 24 pounds, hairy, walks on four legs, and occasionally stands on two. She doesn’t speak our language at all or understand more than a dozen words. Words that she does understand she does selectively. But the ones she knows, she knows very well. Walk, leash and sometimes sit. We don’t have a clue as to what language she speaks.

One thing for sure is we know when she’s hungry. Other than that most communications are a guess on our part. She doesn’t seem too concerned about any of it. We didn’t realize when we got (paid for, did I mention that?) her what we were really getting ourselves into. There are absolutely no regrets and lots of joy.

This little alien has taken over every aspect of our lives, and we’re grateful for that. She chases the quail and rabbits in our yard. Unfortunately for my wife she caught a rabbit after four years of solid chases. She (Hobie) was quite proud, and I got a call at work about “my dog.” A few months ago she saw her first cat in the yard. I only work five miles from home, and I’m surprised that I didn’t hear her otherworld howls, or my wife’s right behind that. Both the wind and large birds flying low make her very nervous. She takes off like a rocket ship when someone is walking their dog down the street.

An interesting habit she has developed is the 2:00am house walk. She sits next to the bed and begins a series of low grunts, moving up to slight woofs, and if that isn’t getting any response she moves on to a full bark. My wife and I both lie there pretending we’re each asleep, wondering why the other one doesn’t get up and do something. When I do get up, what she wants to do is take a short walk through the house. She likes to check out her toy box, cruise through the kitchen, look at her food and water bowls,(not necessarily eating or drinking anything), and then heads back down the hall, looking over her shoulder wondering why I’m not on my way back to bed.

We love her, and she loves us unconditionally. I thought I knew what unconditional love was, until God sent us this little dog. Now I know.

I’m sitting in my office, on this old cane chair, that has a too thin pad on it. My other chair broke, the nice leather one. I don’t remember when or why. Thinking of a chair takes me to Craig’s List, and I’m not writing but shopping.

So – but- however, sitting on this nasty, hard chair in the office/library/recording studio. Man o man, what a man I am, a renaissance man I am. It’s true, student, business leader, author, photographer, chef, sailor just to begin the list. My wife would like me to add husband to the beginning of the list.

I’m crowded in but comfortable here. Few guitars, electric and acoustic, amplifier, keyboard, harmonica, ukulele, bongos. A 25 year old aquarium (there is a full story in that one). Books, a lot of books, old and new, read and unread. Books on writing, music, history books, Beatle and Elvis books, books bout dogs, hey that’s cool – books bout dogs- could be a song in that! Hardy Boys books, the Three Investigators, Vietnam, USS Arizona, needles to say, I am a depository of a lot of useful information, a possible game show contestant.

Radios of various sorts, scanner, shortwave, high power AM, listening in on the world. There’s a lot going on out there, and I feel better if I know about it. A few different ways to record things, music, thoughts, interviews. Maybe if I had an old reel to reel recorder my life would be more complete. Or complicated. Can you buy tapes for them anymore?

Support gear for writing, PC, dictionary, thesaurus, pens, paper, books on how to write, get published, blog, start a website, just ready to bust out on it.

We could take a tour of the sports closet, but that’s also another adventure in itself, along the lines of the 25 year old aquarium. We’ll head there one of these days.

Back to the writers space. Up until now I was merely thinking of, reading about and planning to write, but I’ve found that in the office here I am. Writing that is. Truth be told it’s a matter of perception. In the not to distant past I’ve had a number of articles published. Letting it all hang out I’ve merely been on a sabbatical, collecting information and thoughts for the future, which has arrived.

And so, I take my pen in hand………………..