Ghost Town

Went to Camp Verde, Arizona, the other day…it was closed. This one liner concept by W. C. Fields is exactly what is happening to Main Street Camp Verde.




Even after the city spent tax revenues to bring our small town into the 21st century, business is not good and many stores are empty.

This blog is not about taxes, budgets, town government (or lack of) or politics. It is about the loss of many historic towns and townships in our country to recession and other factors. Camp Verde is the oldest settlement in the Verde Valley.




Fort Verde still stands as a testament to the old west spirit which is also going by the wayside in favor of strip malls and restaurants along the I-17 corridor between Phoenix and Flagstaff.




Few nowadays would even know where Camp Verde is, let alone give a rat’s ass about its future. But, for those of us who live here and know the history, Camp Verde is a paradise because it is small and small means less crime, noise, traffic and the like. I know what you’re thinking; this town sounds like a place for old folks who like to watch cactus grow. Guess again numb nuts. This town is a great place for us old folks to saddle up our Harleys and head out for a wide open country ride on a sunny day. Today is not one of those sunny days, and that is why I am sitting here writing a blog instead of riding.










We like the idea of seeing the occasional cowboy riding his horse down Main Street, and the old fashion parades for special occasions are no different than the ones I used to see when I was a kid way back in the wagon train days.







It’s also comforting to have the Camp Verde Marshal’s Office a few blocks away from where we live to help keep the peace. There is a mystique about the town marshals; they are like the Texas Rangers and have a long historical significance.

I would bet that there are some folks reading this blog who are experiencing the same thing in their small towns. It’s sad and frustrating to watch the decline of the small American town. I know that writing and complaining about it won’t change anything, but at least it helps to get it off my chest. Maybe the reason we don’t live any longer than we do is because we can’t handle too much change. If we lived a very long time, we would just have to suffer from broken hearts and be miserable until the end of our days.


Hey, I just heard tomorrow is going to be sunny and warm on the radio. I’m calling my riding buds and budettes and we can saddle up early and hit the road. The roar of our bikes will soon help us forget our problems as we head for the horizon with the wind in our hair or what’s left of it. Life is good!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Q!

For those of you who are familiar with Quartzsite, Arizona, the picture above exemplifies the quirky mass of folks from all over the U.S.A. and Canada who descend on this special spot in the desert not far from the Colorado River and California on Interstate 10 in the winter.

The pictures below exemplify the real Quartzsite, Arizona. This is the Quartzsite that excites my wife and me the most. That is not to say we don’t like shopping at the multitude of vendors who dot the landscape and all the yard sales that pop up each weekend. We do – but the best part is our small homestead we call our second home. We have quail, Mexican and Ring Neck doves, humming birds, Cooper and Red Tail hawks, assorted lizards, and occasionally, coyotes who visit us looking for food. The coyotes are looking for bird dinner or better yet, Chihuahua steaks. We watch our dogs carefully when they are walking with us.

There is talk in Quartzsite that the city and county are trying to rid the town of vendor tents and the like. This may or may not be true, but from our perspective, the real lure of the area is the winter weather and motor home visitors who love to enjoy life. All of us are very sociable and like to meet new people who become winter friends. While we all scatter to the four winds in the summer, you can bet we all look forward to meeting again the next winter – God willing and the creek don’t rise!




Meet "Pickles," our Meyer's parrot. He is heading toward me for food and since he is a cannibalistic demon bird, a finger will do quite nicely!




Sunrise in the desert is so very special. We have doves waiting patiently for us to spread seed out in front of the motor home. This is a morning ritual that happens every day we are in Quartzsite until our departure for the summer.




Speaking of breakfast, Gonzo, our older Chihuahua (named after the former D-backs' baseball star), waits not so patiently for food. You can barely see Taco, our rescue Chihuahua, with his white head sticking out of the covers to the upper left.




My wife, Sandy, is holding Taco and Gonzo while standing next to an African Sumac tree we planted while in Quartzsite this trip. Planting trees is something we both feel strongly about. Someday after we have left the planet, this tree will still be standing tall and proud, providing it survives the long, hot summers. I travel to Quartzsite once a month in the summer to water trees and check the motor home.




We found this outdoor U.S.A. flag wall picture at a swap meet and decided it must be attached to our shed door between two palm trees that are guaranteed not to die in the summer.




Trust me when I tell you I did not look this good while digging the hole for the African Sumac. The ground is like concrete!




There are four new signs in Quartzsite that were paid for by a grant along with new road paving, plantings and bus stop benches. Signs of progress I suppose – I will miss the old Quartzsite that we have been coming to for many years. But still, progress is not all bad…is it?




Sandy took this picture while we were driving along the Colorado River on a day trip. There is still much unspoiled land in the southwest deserts. You can see the lake behind Parker Dam in the foreground. God, we love this part of the world – I guess you can call us desert rats for sure.

I’m just saying Happy Thanksgiving,

Mittster

Mittster the Trickster

I have always been the kind of guy that loves a good laugh, even if the laugh is on me. Let’s face it; laughter truly is the best medicine. I would like to present to you a few instances where we laughed until we cried and then laughed some more.



Jerome Grand Hotel

My sixtieth birthday started out like any other day. I went to work knowing that wifey had planned a weekend in Jerome, Arizona and we would stay at the Ghost City Inn Bed and Breakfast. She also planned a birthday dinner at the Asylum Restaurant which is located in the Jerome Grand Hotel.




After work we packed a few things and headed from Lake Montezuma to Cottonwood and up Mingus Mountain to Jerome. After checking in the B&B, we freshened up a bit and headed for dinner. It’s a steep curving road to the hotel, but once there, the views of the Sedona Red Rocks and the Verde Valley are spectacular. We walked into the restaurant and after my eyes adjusted to the low light I saw a large table in the distance with Happy Birthday balloons looking down on some people sitting at the table. “Look, darling, someone else is celebrating a birthday tonight,” I said as we neared the table. “What is your mother doing here?” I asked in earnest. “Look, Jay, Shannon, Chris and Nissa are here too,” I exclaimed. Then it dawned on me – I am so freaking lame! It was a surprise birthday party for me. The laughter started and lasted the whole evening.




My daughter Nissa come home from the service after 12 years and a tour in Iraq, tired, shell shocked and a little bewildered. She wanted to finish her college studies and get a degree. We found her a place and job and she settled in to a life she was not used to and the adjustment was difficult. Her birthday was coming up and I thought it would be great if her step-mother and I could arrange a visit from her mother who lives in Michigan. The idea was to do it secretly and surprise her. Well, the plan was simple. While I was at work, Nissa and my current wife Sandy would drive down to Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix and pick up Sandy’s cousin who also was flying in from Michigan and give her a ride to her home in Wickenburg on the way back to the Verde Valley. No way did I want Sandy making that drive alone.

As the two of them were sitting in the terminal waiting for the passengers to finish their walk up the tunnel, Sandy described her cousin to Nissa so she could keep an eye out for her. Meanwhile Nissa’s mother, Lori, positioned herself behind a rather large man and headed for the terminal. When Nissa’s mother came into view, Nissa blurted out, “That looks like my mother! What is she doing here?” Like a bolt of lightning, she realized she was just as lame as her father. The laughter started and lasted the whole trip back to the Verde Valley.



Chris and his lady, Mary Beth.

For Mother’s Day, my stepson Chris and I planned a little surprise for his mother. Chris lives in Michigan and wanted to fly in and surprise his mother. We devised this plan. I told Sandy that Nissa’s mother wanted to fly in again to visit her daughter. I agreed to go with her to the airport so we could pick up Lori. Nissa was in on this hoax but had to work that day and was not there for the surprise. As we sat in the lobby waiting, Sandy started to text Chris who she thought was at work in Michigan. As she texted away, Chris was walking up the tunnel texting back to her. Sandy was looking down at her text message only to look up at her son looking down at her. I said, “Got ya!” We all started laughing so loud people started looking at us with great curiosity. We laughed all the way back home.

Last Saturday, while I rode Harleys with some friends, Sandy went to our favorite tattoo artist Adrian at Physical Graffiti. She wanted to get 9-11 tattooed next to some red, white and blue roses she had done after that horrible day at the Twin Towers. While she was there, she asked Adrian to tattoo "Mitt" across her ankle. I thought that was a real gesture of love and I started planning another hoax. Last Wednesday, on the way home from work I stopped at Physical Graffiti and had Adrian tattoo "Sandy" across my ankle. On the way home I called Sandy and told her that I had cut myself at work on a stack of ceramic tiles and that I would need help re-bandaging the wound when I got home. The tat was on the opposite leg right above my work boot line. I acted casual and took my time bringing in my lunch pail and paperwork. I finally made my way to the bathroom after taking my boots off and asked my wife if she could get the bandage off for me. She took scissors and carefully cut off the tape, unwrapped the gauze slowly only to discover a new tattoo with her name in bold, black color. “Got ya, wifey!” I laughed – she cried and we both hugged each other tightly.

This is the kind of stuff that makes life so worth living, even when the world around us seems lost in insanity. When I leave the planet, I know it will be sad because it has been such a wild, wonderful ride, but you can bet I will find a way to make even that day funny!

Write on,

Mittster

Quartzsite Time!

Why go to Quartzsite, Arizona, in the winter? Because it’s warm, that’s why! Need I say more?

Most folks don’t like the heat, but I love it. When summer starts to fade, I start thinking about our little casa in Quartzsite. Sure it gets cold there sometimes in the winter, but nothing like northern Arizona. A decent motor home with a carport can be cozy and warm, especially if you have Direct TV so momma can watch The Young and the Restless while I am out hunting meteorites. Life is good….




We bought this beautiful lot through an owner financed smoking deal.







This is the motor home we bought before the 2009 stock market crash. Later we knew we could never sell the fuel guzzler, so we turned it into a park model thinking if things got really bad we could super downsize and move to Quartzsite.







We added a storage shed and some great looking metal palm trees.







The carport almost broke the bank, but we knew without it the motor home would be trashed by UV rays. It is twenty degrees cooler under the roof in the summer and the low winter sun hits the right side of the coach, thus keeping it warmer.







I transplanted four mesquite trees from a lot across the street that was being dozed, but unfortunately only two made it through the following summer even though I watered them once a month. Most of the time it was around 118 degrees and I loved working in the heat while sweating like a stuffed hog! I managed to keep the neighbor’s transplanted palms trees alive. When I arrived in July, they (the palm trees) were yellow instead of green, but the day after I watered them they were again bright green and smiling!










Let us not forget Paul Winer who owns the only book store in Quartzsite. I wish someone would water him. He appears to be dying of the vine!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

JOE vs. JOSE

Is this a problem? You decide.

“You have two families: "Joe Legal" and "Jose Illegal".




Both families have two parents, two children, and live in California...

Joe Legal works in construction, has a Social Security Number and makes $25.00 per hour with taxes deducted.




Jose Illegal also works in construction, has NO Social Security Number, and gets paid $15.00 cash "under the table".




Ready? Now pay attention...

Joe Legal: $25.00 per hour x 40 hours = $1000.00 per week, or $52,000.00 per year. Now take 30% away for state and federal tax; Joe Legal now has
$31,231.00.

Jose Illegal: $15.00 per hour x 40 hours = $600.00 per week, or $31,200.0 0 per year. Jose Illegal pays no taxes. Jose Illegal now has
$31,200.00.




Joe Legal pays medical and dental insurance with limited coverage for his family at $600.00 per month, or $7,200.00 per year. Joe Legal now has $24,031.00.

Jose Illegal has full medical and dental coverage through the state and local clinics at a cost of $0.00 per year. Jose Illegal still has $31,200.00.




Joe Legal makes too much money and is not eligible for food stamps or welfare. Joe Legal pays $500.00 per month for food, or $6,000.00 per year. Joe Legal now has $18,031.00.

Jose Illegal has no documented income and is eligible for food stamps and welfare. Jose Illegal still has $31,200.00.




Joe Legal pays rent of $1,200.00 per month, or $14,400.00 per year. Joe Legal now has $9,631 .00.




Jose Illegal receives a $500.00 per month federal rent subsidy. Jose Illegal pays out that $500.00 per month, or $6,000.00 per year. Jose Illegal still has $ 31,200.00.




Joe Legal pays $200.00 per month, or $2,400.00 for insurance. Joe Legal now has $7,231.00.

Jose Illegal says, "We don't need no stinkin' insurance!" and still has $31,200.00.




Joe Legal has to make his $7,231.00 stretch to pay utilities, gasoline, etc.

Jose Illegal has to make his $31,200.00 stretch to pay utilities, gasoline, and what he sends out of the country every month.




Joe Legal now works overtime on Saturdays or gets a part time job after work.

Jose Illegal has nights and weekends off to enjoy with his family.




Joe Legal's and Jose Illegal's children both attend the same school. Joe Legal pays for his children's lunches while Jose Illegal's children get a government sponsored lunch. Jose Illegal's children have an after school ESL program. Joe Legal's children go home.

Joe Legal and Jose Illegal both enjoy the same police and fire services, but Joe paid for them and Jose did not pay...

Do you get it, now?”

Thrown under the bus!

It figures that the Democrats would throw Governor Jan Brewer under the bus any chance they got and that is exactly what they did by not including her in Janet Napolitano’s visit to the Arizona/Mexican border this last week.

Anything the Federal Government does in our state should include the Governor of Arizona. But, I guess, if you are critical of the current Democratic administration, it means you are blacklisted from participating. Personally, I think our Governor is better off not attending a political rally designed to help re-elect the President disguised as an update on controlling drug and human smuggling at our borders.

The Federal Government has made it clear that they have no intentions of closing our border with Mexico for several reasons.

1. The Democrats need the illegal immigrant vote. If they stop illegal immigration, hundreds of thousands of votes also stop. Sad, but true….

2. There are very big bucks in drug smuggling. Stop illegal drugs being transported into the U.S. and you stop the flow of millions of dollars to crooked officials on both sides of the border. Sad, but true….

3. The Federal Government has, in the past, used illegal and malicious means to justify budgets. The Border Patrol is a federal agency always scrambling for money. What better way to justify huge budgets than letting illegal activities at our borders become critical by understaffing the Border Patrol? That is not to say that individual agents are not honest, brave and hard working lawmen and women; what it does say is that the strings are being pulled in Washington, not on the border. Sad, but true….

I am aware that my statements are harsh and that I could get a visit from the men in black, but it’s my opinion and I have a right to speak freely. At least I think we still have that right!




I love Arizona, and the damages illegal drugs and human smuggling are doing to our state sickens me to the core.




I applaud Governor Jan Brewer

for her gutsy, outspoken and sometimes dramatic outbursts aimed at injustice and the illegal activities that are threatening our beautiful state. She reminds me of another outspoken patriot that lives and works in Arizona, Sheriff Joe Arpaio,


but that’s another blog….

I’m just saying,

Mittster