Tubac, An Artist's Paradise

South of Tucson, but not quite to Nogales is a great little town called Tubac.  We spent an afternoon in the touristy part of Tubac, where there are dozens of beautiful little shops of brightly colored adobe and plaster, full of fine arts, jewelry and handmade items of every description.  These were not handicraft items that Grandmothers make out of plastic and yarn, but were excellent works offine art!  Little cantinas, bistros, and tea shops were interspersed in the nooks and crannies in case you wanted to stay all day.  

We were there on a Thursday and the whole place was preparing for the weekend, there was some kind of sidewalk event at hand and everyone was buzzing with busyness, getting ready for the onslaught of tourists and artsy folk. 

The paintings in the Southwest have a different look than where I come from in Washington.  They are more colorful somehow.  Realism doesn’t seem to be the look that is trendy right now, but a bolder, more surreal look seems to be the style. 

Acrylic paints are widely used because of the shockingly vibrant colors that can be easily achieved and boldness not found in water colors.  There’s nothing subtle about the art in Tubac.  A common subject for paintings would be faces-slapping oranges and sulky purples in desert landscapes.  Western art is also a common theme and seems to be popular (but not the Fredrick Remington variety) and has a zesty modern art, American Indian flavor.  It is a visual feast that makes your eyes weary and yearning for more.

A stand out and unique art form that was well represented there was metal stamped art, frames, lamp shades, table tops and you name it!  I like the sheet metal lampshades with patterns of holes punched in them.  They shimmer and sparkle as though they were studded with Swarovski crystals, but they are simply a little bulb mounted in the back.  It is the greatest stuff.  I wish I could have bought something, but my Little House cannot hold any more ‘things’ regardless of how great they are.  I have learned that I don’t have to own something to love and enjoy it.  The memory is enough. 

An Update of the Whispering Palms RV park in Tucson

A quick update after leaving the Whispering Palms RV Park in Tucson.  We will definitely be back in the fall and stay with Anna and Rick again at the WP RV Park.  The management makes this place superb!  We had everything we needed as far as hook-ups go, and we also had a tree and were near the pool.  The place is clean as a pin, and the laundry facility was clean and in excellent repair, and reasonably priced. I mentioned once but will say again; we ate grapefruits right off the tree here!   We enjoyed the neighborhood, and local vendors, restaurants and etc!  We give this place and A-1 and had the time of our lives.  I will continue to blog about the food, vendors and experiences in Tucson because we did so much, at so many places, and had a ball!  See my April posts.  They are all about Tucson.  www.whisperingpalmsrvpark.com/

Tanque Verde Swap Meep - the Biggest in Arizona

What is going on here?

Lance and I were at the laundromat doing chores (not every minute of retirement is nirvana,) and found a local newspaper, a small weekly rag that promote local events, and found there is a colossal flea market known as The Tanque Verde (green tank) Swap Meet that we just had to go to see.

 After driving a few short minutes southwest for a few miles we found what is likely the biggest swap meet in Arizona.  Before our gaping eyes we saw hundreds of booths full of  worthless bobbles, gadgets and gismos, food items, yards sale leftovers, hot dogs, tacos, snow cones, made in China bric- a-brac, leather boots, western hats, baseball caps, tarot cards, antiques, cheapo  Mexican souvenirs,  discount tires,  expensive tires, appliances, leather sofas, rocks and polished stones, Elvis and Marilyn stuff, graphic tees by the millions, rice water, lemonade and beer, cider, coca cola, athletic shoes and sandals with tire tread soles,bras, 8 track tapes, jumping beans, key chains, gold chains, black velvet paintings, posters, metal art, woven rugs, hair pieces, back packs, fanny packs, tools, car parts, hub caps, DVD's, CD's, LP's, HD's, but no CPC's or LSD.  It is a family swap meet after all.  

 I undoubtedly missed some things, but I was distracted by the terrible singers that were performing on the stage near the food court.  It didn't matter how bad they were, because the buzzing of the gigantic speakers muffled out their voices.  I was hoping to hear a mariachi band or two, but no, just amateur hopefuls twanging away their fifteen minutes of fame.  It was great!

I asked about how the swap meet came to be.  In 1975 a college student

had an idea to get together a few individuals with stuff and have a multi vendor yard sale/swap meet in a vacant lot.  It worked and grew to dozens of vendors.  Whole families gravitated to the idea and soon were making their living hawking all their wares.  Tucson folks were literally flocking to the flea market/swap meet.  Then, a problem happened with city zoning laws or other such red tape, and ruined it all.  The college guy, by this time had employed his mom, his sister and other relatives to help him organize and operate the enterprise, and felt so responsible for these hundreds of families that would lose their livelihood that he found several acres, purchased them with his own money and opened up the biggest, baddest, bawdiest swap meet in Arizona.  His persistence paid off and it is a spectacle today, 24/7.

A high light of the day at the flea market was the 40 cent churros.  My friend Susan asked about churros, so possibly others need to become acquainted with this yummy Mexican confection!

  A churro (fritter in spanish) is a common treat at fairs, rodeos, circuses, anywhere there is a crowd and a Mexican vendor.  They are about a foot long column of deep fried pancake batter with ribs running lengthwise. They are rolled in cinnamon sugar and wrapped in a piece of waxed paper.  They are screaming delicious and for 40 cents I would have liked to eat 3 of them; but alas, I simply could not bear the guilt of it!

A Weekend with Pablo Picasso

Check out this website!  Please!  This is a professional review of a terrific show!  http://tucson.com/entertainment/review-a-weekend-with-pablo-picasso/article_e8e3fcc2-1e4d-55cd-897a-dbfa8b8863f0.html

It was a Sunday matinee and we were there, soaking up the efforts of the Arizona Theater Company who hosted this fabulous, broadway worthy show. The theater was a delight, the weather was coolish, and every detail of this fine theater production was fantastic!  The actor Hebert Siquenza out picassoed Picasso!  And he was also an excellent artist and could recreate Picasso's paintings in a convincing way!  

The theater allows for discount tickets if you arrive near the beginning of the performance and if they are not sold out, they offer the empty seats for better than half price.  We sat on the front row, up close and personal, and had $60.00 seats for the matinee, for a piddling $24.00 each!  What a killer deal that was!  

Kitt Peak - What We Learned From the Night Sky

The following is a segment of an email that Lance wrote to our friends, Bink and Susan, regarding Kitt Peak observatory.  It captures the thrill that we felt better than what I could have written myself.

 I learned more at Kitt Peak in five hours than I did in one entire semester of astronomy at BYU.  It is a gas!  We froze our fannies off...yes our fannies are still on Kitt Peak.  We left them there because we had to come down and get warm!  But, boy what a ride!  The little lady who led us was about twenty, brilliant, four feet six inches tall, and really good at explaining how this whole thing works.  The universe and our galaxy I mean.

Anyway, Cynthia came home and dropped into bed after an hour in the truck, with me driving, and the heater going full blast coming down from Kitt Peak.  Yes, the heater works great now, and boy are we glad.  She was exhausted, happy and ready to hit the hay.  This retirement stuff is exhausting but worth it.

 

So, I am sitting under a mercury light at 12:32 a.m. signing off, but deliriously happy.  WOW, ain't life grand!?

That was Lance’s note.  Here are more of the details, and of course, details are found on the website. https://www.noao.edu/outreach/kpvc/

 First of all, we drove outside of Tucson about 45 miles up on Kitt Peak at about 6800 ft. in the air.  It was about 15 degrees cooler than in town, 90% humidity, and the wind was howling. We have almost no warm clothes left but what we do have, we had on our bodies, and we were still cold!  It was a beautiful night in spite of the temperature.  Our group was about 15 people and we were in one of the many observation towers, in a classroom and we learned about the importance of directing all of our ancillary light downward so that we can see the stars!  This is really important in astronomy because our cities make the heavens less visible to the extent that stars become passe to modern people. What a shame! We learned about star identification using a planisphere, which is a wheeled chart showing the stars on a given day.

 Our docent was a very smart, young woman named Carmen, who was an astronomy student from the U of A, and she was passionate about sharing the basics of astronomy.  We learned that basics of binoculars with simple magnification, we can see a lot!  To observe many of the features in the night sky we don’t need an expensive telescope; common binoculars will make the features appear brighter so we can see them!  I am thrilled with this new knowledge because now the heavens are within my reach, so to speak!  I am in the game!

We observed the setting sun, and the moon, Venus, Jupiter, the eclipses, the winter hexagon, several prominent stars and constellations; and that was with the binoculars.  Then we went to the telescope to see the really fabulous stuff!  We got a good look at Jupiter, its four stars, and an open constellation, a globular constellation, a dead star, and of course the moon.  Wow, the moon is beautiful.  It looks very bright and white, covered with crates of every size, testifying of the endless meteors over eons of time.   It seems that if you blew on the moon with a great gust of air, it would go Poof, like it was made of powdered sugar!  I wish that I had more time to stare at the moon with a telescope.  Sadly, we were all shivering so badly that we couldn't hold still, and our hands and fingers were frozen, which contributed to the politeness of the crowd, and everyone was eager to spend only a minute or two at the eyepiece.

A quick aside:  They do daytime tours and there are self guided tours as well.  There are about a dozen different observation towers, owned and operated by many of the big universities and companies around the globe, all utilizing the strategically positioned Kitt Peak. Not all are available for tours as it is a functioning observatory.  Each visitor used a tiny red light as now flashilights were allowed, and we had to be quiet out of respect for the day sleepers who did there work in the darkness of night.  We were the night tour, which cost us $45 each, but they fed us a pretty good, cold boxed lunch, because we were there for 4 hours and we were a long way from food and town.  Kitt Peak is on Tribal land and so all the rules of good behavior are observed.

Lance and I are determined to find a beginners book of astronomy, get our Dad’s binoculars (that I have stowed away in the cupboard of the Little House for such occasions) and do a little armchair astronomy.  We are going to Barnes and Noble today to find just such a book.

The Kitt Peak website is

RV Friends

The RVing lifestyle provides an exceptional opportunity to have new friends drop into ones lap.  We have found many great couples with whom we had instant rapport.  While at the Pima Community College we found ourselves standing under a large umbrella tasting chips, dips and beverage from other countries, and beside us was a man and woman, a bit older than us, doing the same thing – whiling away the afternoon.  They are very friendly and soon we found  many things in common.

David and Marge

Marge and Dave were from Connecticut and have thick eastern accents.  They are retired, recently recovering from a health crisis, are Jewish and vegetarians, and they like to go, do and see everything.  We shared a few tips and recommendations, and made an appointment to get together.  Happily, we liked them and they liked us.  We spent about 8 or so lunch dates with them and found them most enjoyable.  They were house sitting while in Tucson, and previously had been volunteering their hard work for an organic farmer in Washington in exchange for a room/board and a nice experience. Marge and David plan their retirement doing this kind of thing, and it makes travelling around and experiencing the country, affordable.  They taught us a good deal about stretching a buck and, I hate to stereotype any ethnic group, but… they are the best at being frugal, and were the first to admit it!  We will miss them.

Janelle and Lee are another couple, that I mentioned before, when we ere in Richland, but I still think of them often.  We have a tentative plan to meet them in southern Utah later in the year and spend some time in the Escalante area.   Lee is one of those guys that works and works, is good at what he does, would like to retire, but just can’t stop quite yet.  We find this phenomenon everywhere we go.  Americans work way too hard.  It seems that folks are used to making X dollars and can’t imagine living on less, and perceive that they will take hit in their comfort, status, that is, there socio-economic level.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Lance and I have found that goofing off is a tremendous reward for a little budgeting and management.  Anyone can do what we are doing.  When we are out and about, folks say things like, “oh, we dream of RVing someday, to see the country, to retire someday!”  It is the American dream!  I say, don’t wait.  Old age comes way too quickly.

While walking down Sabino Canyon, we met another couple, Cindy and Skip.  He too is retirement age, but is working another job while collecting a retirement from law enforcement.  They would like to sell the house, or downsize at least, but can’t quite pull the trigger.  They both have their health now, but who knows what tomorrow will bring.  Folks just like them are all over this country.  We see it in every RV park we stay at, the same story.  Lance and I are glad we are doing what we are doing.  True, it is not too showy or glamorous, and many folks retire in much grander style, but we couldn't be happier in the Little House on the Highway.

Where to Eat in Tucson

El Saguarito, 2 Chile Rellenos and 1 Mexican Crooner

www.elsaguarito.com/

The other night we had a yen for Mexican food so asked the locals where they like to go.  We were referred to El Saguarito, a smallish restaurant that had a patio extending way out into the parking lot with sails, I think, stretched on clothesline, and forming a very large canopy to protect the customers from the sun.  There were walls made of wrought iron fencing and covered in posters, art and advertising.    We had a surprisingly fun evening.  The food was unremarkable so I won’t bore you a description, (click on the link for an image,) but what was noteworthy was the Mexican guy that was singing, and playing his music machine and guitar!  He was quite listenable, and knew a lot of songs, and so we made a request just to test his mettle.  He obliged with his down home version of Spanish Eyes, and was a very good sport, in spite of his messing up the words here and there. One thing to always count on; when there is a singer, there is always a dancer, and dancing guy showed up just like clockwork.  He didn't need a partner; he was immediately in the groove and put on a show.  You can tell that in his day, he was probably quite a good dancer, but …you can imagine. This dancing man was a guy in his sixties, very skinny, with a fringe of oily hair hanging from under his tan colored hat.  He definitely had the moves and danced with a Latin flair that was painful to watch but we couldn't look away.  The crooner egged him on and commented at how good he was.  (How I wish I had my phone to take a video clip and share online.) He was kind of good, kind of bad, kind of embarrassing, and kind of entertaining, and no fools no fun!  We clapped at each performance and he kept going! We didn't know whether to tip him or the crooner, so we opted for the crooner, who gave us a CD in return for our 2 bucks!  In summary, we ate mediocre food, watched a mediocre dancing man, had a lot of laughs and wonder how anybody could have had a more enjoyable evening!  Upon returning to the truck, Lance and I laced on our sneakers and walked 10,000 steps around the well lighted parking lot!  The night was a beautiful, cool Tucson night, and we were two old crones, doing what old crones do and were perfectly contented.

 Tiger's Tap Room- The Hotel Congress

When poking around an unfamiliar city it is a common thing to ask the locals where to eat.  We do this quite a lot and we get interesting suggestions.  Sometimes we don’t even ask, and people volunteer their suggestions in hopes we will check out there “place.”  This is exactly how we found Tiger’s Taproom at the Hotel Congress. 

There is quaint old guy, Tom Zigler, nicknamed Tiger, who has been keeping bar at the Hotel Congress for a whopping 54 years. At his 50^th anniversary the bar officially became Tigers Taproom and is a well known watering hole in downtown Tucson. He is now a skinny little fellow wearing crepe soled oxfords, brand X denim pants, a Mexican style button up shirt covered by a beige golf jacket (despite the heat) and a jaunty chino fedora. He has a leprechaun voice that is quick to give you practiced yet agreeable conversation that, I imagine, makes him a good listening ear that is so cliché of bartenders in the movies. 

This photo appeared in the paper on his 80th birthday!

 Everyone in the Hotel knows and loves him.  Folks pass by and call out his name and he doesn’t even look up but knows who to respond to.  His bar is decorated with signed and framed cowboy art all over the walls, sketched in pencil and charcoal, by a western painter of the 1930’s, a guy named Peter Martinez, who paid off his bill while residing at the Hotel doing art.  There were dozens of drawings; think Charlie Russell only not nearly as good.  There were a few old neon signs from the sixties, and an old juke box in mint condition, and of course skads of bottles of every description on the back bar. Tiger was on his way to eat lunch at The Cup, the long standing eatery in the lobby, when the overzealous host, upon  failing to get us  to come in and dine, (it was only about 11:00 and we were simply scoping out the Hotel) interrupted the hungry Barkeep and asked him to show us the Taproom.  Tiger postponed lunch in favor of showing a couple of out of towners the whole place.  He is an icon within the Hotel Congress, another Tucson icon.   

 Just when you think it can’t get any more colorful, just check out the rogue’s gallery on in the hallway to the restrooms in the Hotel Congress. John Dillinger’s gang were caught right there in the lobby back in the day. The story goes that there was a fire in the hotel, and the gang members had to go out into the street. One of the gang fellows bribed a fireman with a fifty dollar bill to go back into the burning building to get his stuff out for him.  He did, and a day or so later the fireman thought that something was fishy about a guy having a 50 dollar bill in the ‘30’s and so he squealed to the sheriff that he thought these might be bad guys.  The sheriff and posse caught them all at the Hotel Congress. The lobby hasn’t changed since the 30’s. At the time of writing this post I don’t have internet access so there will be no fact checking on Dillinger. 

Pionic Pizza

Pionic Pizza was recommended as the best pizza in town!  We had to go there, and this is what we found.  The place has a warehouse décor, with concrete floors, metal tables and chairs and overhead doors that slide up off the sidewalks exposing the diners to the awning covered patio and the street beyond that.  You walk up the counter where there is a bevy of smiling t-shirted youths waiting to create for you a perfect pizza.  You choose your crust, whole wheat, gluten friendly, or classic,  all of them are about 12 inches, which is one size fits all.  The crusts are made in the restaurant and rolled/pressed into the same shape as a giant poker chip and stacked up, waiting for toppings.  Then you go down an assembly line, just like Subway sandwiches, but with every imaginable topping you could wish for.  You decide what you want and the kids heap it on.  It seems there is no limitations on what or how much you pile on.  I asked for a little extra sauce and the young guy cautioned me because the toppings will slide off with too much! 

Perhaps the best pizza in town!

  

Oh yeah, there are 6 kinds of sauces to choose from; two marinara (meat and meatless), a pesto, an alfredo, and I can’t remember the other two. The young people pizza makers have clever and unique ways of “decorating” your pizza; for instance, they add the sauce by squeezing it out of a squeeze bottle and go round and round in diminishing spiral until they make a capital letter “P” at the center and then “draw” a compass with the four directions on it!  Does this have something to do with Pionic, or Greeks or something?  Again, I don’t have internet service at the moment so no checking why they do this.  It is something like when a barista makes a pretty shape in the top of your coffee fluff, customers like it!  Pionic Pizza has pastas and salads too.  They cook up the pizzas and bring them to you, and if you are there before 5:00 o’clock pm the pizzas are only 5 bucks!  Man, are they good!  We loved discovering this place.

El Guero Canelo

No trip to Tucson is complete without a Sonoran Hotdog, sometimes called a Mexican hot dog.  The restaurant that is famous for them is El Guero Canelo, which started as a two taco truck operation and over the years expanded into a huge, very basic, no frills style eatery, serving up Mexican fare by the tens of dozens of plates, or Styrofoam container, or wax paper dinnerware!  I found them on the internet when I Googled what to eat in Tucson.  This came up as a don’t miss.

A Sonoran Hotdog begins with a homemade irregular bun, assumed to be made in the restaurant, fitted with a grilled, bacon wrapped wienie, or two if you like, and covered with pico de gallo and a grating of cheddar.  Then it is toasted and served up on half a styrofoam clam container, with whatever you want to put on it from the salsa bar. 

I chose to put on a red salsa, a green salsa, and these terrific green onions that had been grilled whole and were served cold.  Yum!  What a treat! They also have tacos, burritos and etc, but the Mexican hotdog is a stand out and much imitated all over Tucson. 

Pappy's Diner

Pappy’s is a big diner very near to where we are parked at the Whispering Palms.  We have eaten here several times and there are many reasons why we keep coming back.  The food is good and so is the service, and the place is very clean; that hits all my big three requirements! 

When you order pancakes watch out!  You think you ordered a short stack, but they bring you a giant pancake served on a 16 inch pizza pan!  It is such a surprise and I must say it is a delight!  They had to custom make a flipper to flip those babies!  Lance asked for a blueberry pancake and they loaded up the batter with berries.  It was so big and delicious that I recommend sharing with everybody at your table.   Pappy’s is a kind of place that is okay with sharing, that is to say, it is a casual kind of place!  This pancake cost us $3.50.  Here’s a photo of Pappy’s pancake found on the web.  

Titan II Missile Museum

 Fifteen miles south of Tucson is the the only remaining Titan II missile site left on the planet.  At one time there were 54 such sites in America, 18 in Tucson, AZ, 18 in Wichita, Kansas, and 18 in Little Rock, Arkansas.  The Titan II was the penultimate weapon of destruction in its' day at the height of the Cold War with the Soviet Union, and we went, "eyeball to eyeball" with the Ruskies to determine if Capitalism or Communism was to be the dominant ism on the planet. Considering what we saw I am so happy the Titan II's of the U.S. nuclear arsenal never had to be fired in anger.

This particular site sits just off the freeway (I-19) about 1/2 mile, and PBS was busy filming a documentary on the Cold War and the Titan II missile sites.  It is a very non-descript, flat, smallish area, in the middle of the Sonoran desert that looks like it could have been a place where somebody kept a lot of propane or other chemicals not fit for human health.  The site went online and hot with a missile in December 1963

The Titan II was simply the state of the art rocket booster of its day.  It was even used to boost a number of astronauts into orbit around the earth to include people like Gus Grissom, in the halycon days of the Gemini shots in the mid-sixties.  Its' credentials to do this or fire a nine (9) megaton explosive H-bomb 6500 miles downrange at incredible speeds are legion.  It stands 104 high, and the first stage booster rocket motors when fired, instantaneously develops as much thrust as two huge Boeing 747 jets at full power.  If the call, from the President of the United States, to fire this behemoth ever came in, and the men, and later women, of SAC (Strategic Air Command) in this silo outside of Tucson did have to fire it, the Titan II would clear the Silo in 58 seconds from the time of the order from the president until it was airborne.

Upon launch, more than 5,000 gallons of water was dumped instantly into the bottom of the missile silo, and as those gigantic rocket motors fired it would be instantly turned into steam by said rocket blasts.  This, along with hundreds of fiberglass tiles in the silo, acted to buffer the missile from its' own power by dampening the effects of the noise, and the vibration of thousands of pounds of thrust being fired off in such a small space.  Without the steam and the fiberglass the Titan II could literally vibrate itself into the side of the silo and explode.  Within four seconds of actual rocket motor ignition this leviathan would clear the silo and immediately accelerate to 25 times the speed of sound (16,000 miles per hour) burning nearly 200 gallons of rocket fuel per second to do so!  At 50 miles high, the first stage would be empty and would be jettisoned and the second stage would fire boosting the attached 9 megaton warhead some 200 miles up into space.  At this point the guidance system gyros, and smaller 'gimbal' rockets attached to the actual warhead, would kick in and literally guide it to the point it descended onto its' target from outer space.  It would be fired up over the north pole, and could strike anywhere in Russia, landing within 8/10's of a mile or less of its target, in 35 minutes or less.

The nine megaton warhead deserves some description here, since it was the reason the whole operation existed in the first place. A Megaton is the equivalent, in explosive power, of one million tons of TNT.  To give you an idea of what nine megatons means, it would take a freight train with 90,000 boxcars, stretching more than 1534 miles, The distance from Spokane, Washington to Nogales, Mexico, full of TNT to equal the destructive power of the warhead found on the top of a Titan II missile!  The warhead was designed to be detonated in one of two ways, an air burst, or a ground penetrating burst.  If maximum destruction over a large area, like a gigantic city such as Tokyo, Los Angeles, Moscow, or Shaghai, was desired the warhead would be set to be exploded at 14,000 feet above the ground, or about the height of Mount Rainier, Washington.  The fireball at this altitude would be immense, more than a mile across roiling at about 40-50 million degrees Fahrenheit, hotter than the interior of the sun.  It would smash into the ground below and totally incinerate and destroy 900 square miles of territory!  In other words an area 30 miles wide and 30 miles long would be burned to a crisp, buildings knocked down, all living entities burned up, with thousands upon thousands of fires igniting spontaneously in the materials knocked flat by the gigantic fireball and concussion of the explosion.  A city the size of Los Angeles, Moscow, or Shanghai would simply cease to exist in the blink of an eye once this hydrogen bomb detonated at 14,000 feet above the city.

If the warhead was set to explode in a ground penetrating explosion it would gouge out a hole in the earth more than half a mile wide and 400 feet deep.  Enough so that no hardened military site on the planet could withstand it.  This is an area equal in size to the meteor crater outside Winslow, Arizona.  The concussion would cause an earthquake in the immediate area of the explosion that would literally collapse any hardened military structures.  In either instance, an air burst or ground burst, those on the ground where the explosion occurred would experience what they would probably believe to be the end of the world.  For them it would be, there would be no chance for escape--it would, in a word, be "hellish", as if the bowels of hell had opened up and consumed the planet.  

The man who was leading our particular group of visitors to this silo, and I should mention here that everything that I have mentioned here is declassified and the last Titan II's deactivated in the early '80s, was an old crew member in both Atlas and then Titan II missile silos.  He had served as a ,"missile launch officer" for more than eight years in these two missile programs, and he recited, from memory, all of the specifics I just wrote about and more about this incredible set of circumstances.  He was an old, "cold warrior" and man I was glad he had been on our side.  His mind, and he was well into his seventies, was like a steel trap as he went through in chapter and verse, while in the missile silo command room, what would occur in a cascade of events as the missile launch order came in from the President of the United States, and highly trained, and dedicated men such as he, went into actions that would totally change the world forever.  He must have been a pistol when he was 25 years of age, and I had no doubt of his devotion, once again that word "devotion", to his duty as he saw it and was trained to perform it.  There is no doubt in my mind that if the order had ever come down, he and men just like him, would have performed their duties flawlessly as they unleashed the most powerful destructive force known to mankind.

We were led out to view an actual, deactivated Titan II, sitting in the silo here in Tucson, just as it did in the sixties.  It reminds one of a huge rattlesnake, sitting there coiled and ready to strike, and this almost brought me to tears.  At this point, this man stopped and said, "There were more than 40 Titan II's fired downrange from Vandenberg Air Force Base during its' time in the Air Force's arsenal of missiles."  He explained that about every six months the U.S. Air Force would retrieve one of its' missiles from one of the 54 sites, and one had come from the very site we were at, trucked to Vandenberg Air Force base California, and then fired it 6,000 miles downrange to Kwajalein Atoll in the South Pacific (without a warhead of course.) He said the Russians had a spy trawler just off the coast of California to monitor the launch, and one in Kwajalein to watch it strike in the small inlet there.  He said, "We just wanted them to know about every six months or so, that at any given moment the U.S. Air Force could put 54 huge warheads in somebody’s backyard in Russia if we wanted to do so. It was our way of keeping the peace."   In other words, "Don't Tread on Me."  The result would be so catastrophic there are not words enough in the English language to explain it.

Cynthia and I witnessed the power of devotion, to create, and to destroy, in just six short hours.  Human kind is really something else, to say the least, and life is absolutely terrific.

San Xavier Mission

There was not enough money to finish the right tower!

We decided to take in the San Xavier del Bac,  a mission found in the southern part of Arizona near Tucson.  It is an oldie and a goodie, founded in 1692 by Father Eusebio Kino, making it one of the older settlements in America, The original founders and builders of the Jesuit variety.

The current structure at the mission and its' church was begun in the late 1700's and finished in 1789, the same year the United States got its' act together with the Constitution.  Anyway, the church is in a word, "Magnificent", and should not be missed by those who are interested in the history of the American West.  

The actual chapel is a classical representation of the Spanish Catholic churches of the day, with the front of the church decorated with exquisite artistry of the period, to include statues of God the Father, Mary and the largest one of Saint Francis Xavier.  This particular statue is taken down once per year and paraded before the supplicants in attendance, out in the courtyard in front of the cathedral, for their adoration--as I remember this is at Easter?   Since the chapel is formed in the shape of the cross, there are two additional areas for decoration, one of which contains another statue of St. Francis Xavier laying in a recumbent position, covered in magisterial red robes, to which are attached various pins of adoration for healings received at his spiritual hands.  One of these included the hospital identification attached to one's wrist when one enters the hospital, the owner of which yesterday was a certain Mr. Morales, who apparently feels much better and wants to show his devotion to the saints. The tradition is that you approach this statue and raise his head three times, or rub his head in veneration to thank him for his intercessional healing.  The power of faith displayed for all to see.

If you keep in mind the first Jesuit and then Franciscan Priests trekked 900 miles into the wilderness, more than 300 years ago to establish this mission, built and decorated it with absolutely spectacular artistry, to include paintings, murals, ceiling art and more than 50 hand made statues that had to be brought in one by one that same 900 miles, you can see the power of Religious devotion.  It is truly a remarkable thing.  The devotion of the human spirit to something larger than one's own ego is what made much of the good things of civilization whether it be the Pyramids, Greek Temples, the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, Catholic and Protestant churches, or the many Indian holy shrines.  All of these places endure and remind us we are not the be all, end all of the Universe.  

Back in the mid-nineties the Church hired a number of art restoration specialists from as far away as Spain, Italy and even Turkey to restore all of the paintings and frescoes found in the Cathedral, as well as those decorating the more than fifty statues.  They spent 3 months every year for six years restoring the church and its' art to its' original state.  The job they did was superlative, I might add.

Housekeeping and the Motorcycle Crash

Here is some interesting info that I came across while snooping through Lance’s emails.  He wrote this one to our friends, Bink and Susan, and I could not have done a better job editorializing our day than this, so here is a summary of our day.

Lance says:

Yesterday was clean up the truck day and boy did I get after it.  In the meantime, Cynthia was in the little house getting it more, and more, organized.  That has bee a real process.  I went down and washed, hand dried and then brought the truck back here.  I waxed the silver/grey part with one kind of polish, the black with a polish just for black auto paint, armorall'ed the tires four times, then did the trim with trim restorer.  

We then took every single thing out of the back of the truck, and it was full of stuff, to get to the golf clubs which we have decided to sell.  Just don't play golf enough to keep them. In the process of doing this little chore, I found that all but one of the nuts had come off the bolts keep the shell on the truck!!  We had wondered why there seemed to be more rattles and road noise lately, and we found out why.  Wow, we could have lost that shell at 65 mph and lots of stuff in the bed of the truck with it.  It is always something isn't it?   By this time it was 90 degrees in the shade and no shade, and I started into putting in new bolts with locking nuts.  I put four in on each side with a box wrench since we no longer have our ratchet set.  Rivers of sweat were pouring off of me into the bed and exiting the back of the downed tailgate.  It was a little like trying to thread a needle in a high wind, due to the lip on the side of the bed wherein it made it difficult to get the box wrench (7/16, I got that one memorized) on the nut and then turn it a quarter of an inch, remove it and then do it all over again.  Anyway, the canopy is tight as a drum now.

Last night we took some more things to Good Will, stuff we had found in going through the back of the truck again.  It was such a pleasant night, we had eaten roast beef and trimmings at "The Elbow Room" for 7 bucks, the night was coming on and cooling off, and we had shared half a cherry fritter--all so wonderful in the beautiful Arizona sunset.  We were just motoring over to leave the shopping center where Good Will is when I saw this big ruckus at the entrance, with immediate cop lights going off and people running like hell.  I said to Cynthia, "I saw something there, someone flew in the air or something.  I think someone just hit a pedestrian!"  We drove over near to the spot and on the way saw a shattered motor cycle wedged under the front end of a Toyota truck, another police car arriving, and a motorcyclist laying out on the side of the road writhing in pain and screaming with the police down beside with first aid kits out.  There was new road construction going on, and lots and lots of signs and barriers, and I think in the confusion of that with lessening light the man in the truck hit the motorcyclist somehow.

We saw him sitting in the notch of a tree there, holding his head in his hands and crying.  It was the truck driver, and he was a neighbor from our "Whispering Palms" court here!!  A policeman approached him and asked for his drivers license and then they talked for a while.  We waited, and waited, and finally a siren with a fire truck approaching but no ambulance.  A woman had gone to the fallen cyclist, looked him over, talked to him serenely and held his hand--a nurse I think?  The police allowed her to stay for quite a while.  Still now ambulance--finally, about 35 to 40 minutes after the initial impact a siren, and then an ambulance.  

They removed the helmet from the fallen man, he was bald, and older, say 60.  He was moaning and writhing still, and they then commenced to cut off almost all his clothes, the medics, to get a closer look at his injuries.  He was then place on a back board, and finally, nearly an hour after the crash, taken to the hospital.  The moral to the story--don't get hit on a motorcycle in Tucson, because you may not make it even if you had a chance right after the crash.

Tucson, Whispering Palms and the Ashram

Tucson, Arizona has been a very welcome and interesting experience, so far.  We have been here for about a week and have thoroughly enjoyed the sun, cool mornings, ethnic cuisine, and the friendliness of the locals.  Upon arriving at our RV Park, The Whispering Palms, we were immediately invited to a barbecue that a handful of the park guests were enjoying, and before we could even unhitch our rig we were eating barbecued pork, and chicken breast.  There were pot luck style salads and typical barbecue food, but what was remarkable to us was that we were expected to join in, and they were not taking no for an answer.  We felt welcomed! www.whisperingpalmsrvpark.com/

Would I recommend this RV Park?  The answer is yes, I would.  It depends on what you want in an RV Park.  This one is not as snazzy as either of the last two places we stayed.  I will explain and you decide.

This is taken from our lot!

 

There is one bath house with two separate bathroom/ shower combos.  This is (evidently) quite common in RV Parks.  There is a toilet, shower, and sink in each, and a chair or someplace to sit.  These are large enough for families or for a parent and a child…not unlike the bathrooms we all have in our own homes.  However, these are open for both sexes, and are locked on the outside with a numbered keypad.  Our park has two of these, back to back and it seems to be adequate for the size of the park.  They are tiled from floor to ceiling, very clean and in good repair, although quite basic. This is a different arrangement than we had in the other RV Parks, but t is still fine, just different than what we have experienced so far.

 

The spaces are of adequate size and each one has a beautiful decorative cactus arrangement somewhere on the space.  Ours has a shade tree also, which is a godsend in the unrelenting sun of Tucson. There is not a speck of grass except near the office/home of the hostess, Anna.  She is a doll and adds a real “at-home” feel because she allows us all to enjoy her back yard, with a huge pine and shade trees and also the internet works well near her office.  It does not work well throughout the park, which is a huge annoyance to me, but we have found is the norm in RV Parks.  So, to overcome this we do our internet stuff like emails and skyping our family from Anna’s back yard, and when I do blogging and researching we go offsite for that.

 

There area that Whispering Pines is located in (North Tucson) is a declining area of town, so no new building and such, but it is close to a few really great eateries, ethnic food, carnicerias, cocinas, and services; close to everything.  There is the Tucson Mall closeby, the biggest mall ever, but who cares?  We are tucked in a snug right here, and happy to boot!

We found a mom and pop place called Pappy’s that we get a killer breakfast of 2 sausages, eggs, toast and hashbrowns for $1.95.

  Man, it is good eating, but not too healthful,as breakfasts go, so we don’t go there much.  There’s a hole in the wall called the Elbow Room that has an all you can eat fish fry on Fridays for $6.50.  There are lots of these kinds of places all around, because we are in a retirement area, but if you are looking for a bit more healthful fair, the Mexican markets are the way to go.  We eat at home a lot, cooking a bit of meat on the George Foreman grill and eating fruits and veggies frot he markets.  Life is good!

   

 Right now I am doing laundry at a coinless laundry. I had never heard of on e either!  You buy a card from a machine and for $30 you get $40 worth of laundry services.  On Tues. and Thurs. you can wash for $1.09 and they have sales on there double size washers at certain weekdays, just to give you an idea of what a well run laundry is like.  Lance is next door getting a $10.00 haircut and shave, by barber students.  I hope he has both ears and his nose when he gets back over here to help me fold clothes.  I am blogging right now on the free wifi at the coinless.  All in all, it’s been a good morning.

Last night we watched the college basketball championships at a nearby sports bar.  What a poor experience that was!  Our team lost, the food was a gastronomic gut-bomb and it cost us $40!  Zounds!  We paid all night with Rolaids and bicarbonate of soda.  Why do we do this to ourselves, all in the name of our gladiators?  We learned.

 

Let me tell you about our experience at the Ashram!  We were invited to a service/meal at the ashram by a darling Indian lady in a silky turquoise colored sari and beads draping across her brow and embellishing the part in her hair.  She was soft spoken, and with palms pressed together over her heart she graciously invited us to a vegetarian meal at Govinda’s.  We met her at the International Community Festival (I don’t think this is exactly the correct name,) at Pima Community College last week, and could not possible pass up on an interesting opportunity like this one presented.

We drove down Oracle St, a main drag, complete with carwashes, taco joints, and window tinting bays and tattoo parlors, as well as very posh retirement apartments and condos, until we came to the over-arching gate into the fenced compound of Govinda’s.

We were early and being unsure what to do, we stood with mouth agape and peered at the loveliness of our unexpected surroundings.  There were few cars in the parking lot and we were very much by ourselves.  In front of us was a patio paved with Moroccan shaped bricks,  circular tables with pale umbrellas, a bubbling fountain in center of it all, burbling out our welcome.
There was a very large netted area for two brilliantly colored parrot who were squawking away to each other.  WE explored and were met by a curt fellow in Indian garb who told us we were an hour early!  We don’t keep very close track of time these days and were happy to be early and not late.  We had time to explore the beautiful grounds and enjoy the peace and quiet in this paradisiacal corner of Tucson.  We found, an elaborate coi pond backed by a noisy waterfall made of brownish rocks, with monster coi silently looping about with big,  open and closed mouths.  There were turtles, sunning themselves on triangular tilted stones, and constellations of guppies.  I suspected these were coi food, although, as attentively watched, I did not see one guppy succumb to the fate of Jonah.

There was also, to my delight, an aviary of cockatiels, parrots, finches, and a pair of peacocks.  All these birds were rescue birds that had found refuge at Govinda’s.  There were exotic birds of the parroty kind, and only had attention called to it by a hand written sign posted low enough for the reader to learn that a white bushy parrot (I fail to recall what it was) had a pecking disorder and has been to the vet for treatment, so not to worry.  This aviary was a very busy place.  The pesky and hardy native swallows and other little commoners this spring’s baby birds, had found several tiny holes in the aviary mesh and were enjoying free largesse at Govinda’s expense.  I noted that these holes could easily be closed, as fisherman repairs his nets, but there was no sign of these openings having ever been tended to.   It came to me that these little beggars, for beggars they were, were “allowed.”  I was mesmerized!  Note to Self:  When we get to Ecuador and establish a house and home, we could have an aviary of rescued birds.  Lance and I will have the time and space, and wherewithal to have an aviary, where we cannot living a RVing lifestyle.

The time went by quickly and we were invited into the ashram.  It was a low slung building of brightly painted cinder blocks, with a set of cubbyholes for shoes outside the open door.  We went in and sat upon large squares of memory foam cushions.  A few people drifted in and plopped down.  Some were in loose fitting, white, cottony homespun garb with knee hanging crotches.  I will have to get a pair.  They looked very fitting for the surroundings.  What was most unusual was the life size figurine of a seated yogi, with flowers an candles and other finery stacked all around him.  There were light aimed at him.  There were placards saying who he was and what he did.  I couldn't read them from where I was.

 

Then it all started at once.  Everyone was seated, cross legged on the floor and there were hairs in the back for those who could not sit on the floor, for whatever the reason.  A blond lady dressed in a drab sari, sat in front, with a companion; an unlikely looking red headed, geeky looking fellow, who began playing an interesting square box of an instrument, of wheezing tonal quality, that had keys for making the notes and a bellows to wheeze them out into the air.  It was great!  The blonde ching-chang-ed a pair of tiny cymbals and they made some rather listenable music.  Another thickly built guy, with shaved head with the exception of a wimpy pony tail jutting out of the very back, chanted emphatically.  No words were spoken, but a chanting of sorts began.  Because the words of the chant were written in two places on the walls it became obvious that all were invited to participate.  We did!  And as we did, we too, became more confident and were inclined to let ‘er rip.  We participated in earnest, with whole heart and soul.

 

After the chanting, then there chanting and dancing, and after the chanting and dancing, there was kneeling and chanting, and after that there was chanting and flower smelling; and everyone was welcome to participate at whatever degree they wanted or felt was necessary for them.  It was a really fun, expressive experience.

 

We then were invited into the other part of the building to Govinda’s . (I thought the whole place was Govinda’s but part was also an ashram).  An orderly que formed and we were scooped a large plate of Indian food, all vegetarian and remarkably delicious.  Some of the food I recognize and can describe, so will try.  There was cooked lentils, shredded cabbage, cooked vegetables, a curry dish, some cheese stuffed pasta things in a creamy sauce, cubes of sweetened cream of wheat, squash, and all were delicious.  This food had various kinds of sauces and delicate seasonings that made it wonderfully delightful.  We want to eat there again! There was no charge for any of the evenings activities, and I in my American way, wonder, what is the catch?

I think they are attracting followers.  On one wall is displayed a poster charting  the raising of money to pay off the mortgage on the ashram, they had about $10,000 to go.  They do some charity work, and of course, they hold a lot of meetings and services.  It seems they are very concerned with the emotional and spiritual health, and personal peace, of the devotees.  Their reading material is all Hare Krshna stuff.  I took some to read and it seems innocuous enough, and I find that I agree with all of it.  I also feel like if people could participate in chanting, singing and dancing, it is a good thing.  In our culture we are strung too tightly, and could benefit from singing together, and dancing.  By dancing I mean physical movement for movements’ sake.  The devotees did not dance like what one might think.  They did not do the whirling dervish thing like we see in airports in the ‘60’s.  They bobbed back and forth and up and down in time to music.  That is it!  Easy and fun!

We met a couple, at Pima College, from Connecticut who went with us to Govinda’s.  They are David and Marge.  They are good folks and we enjoyed them very much.  They are also living on the road, and I hope to see them again.