Pits Stops at Friends' Homes During a Long Drive In A Street Car Named Desire, Blanche Dubois always depended on the kindness of strangers. As we trek southeast, The Quid and I, instead, find ourselves rich in the graciousness of friends. One of my dearest friends hosted us for our last night on the island. Then, with the tail end of the Arizona monsoons putting a kink in our Grand Canyon visit, we changed course and headed directly to our next destination, Tucson, Arizona, and the home of one of my writing class colleagues and her big puppy. My writing cohortian and I have been meeting and chatting for almost two years now, but it’s been all online via Zoom, the great dysfunctional connector. We know each other, totally; yet, we don’t. So, I was quite moved at the invitation. And on first meeting, it felt like we’d been hanging out for years. Despite its proximity to California, I haven’t spent time in Arizona except for the holiday breaks visiting my grandparents “wintering” in Yuma. Yuma was not that exciting. We arrived in Tucson to a warm greeting by friend and her cuddly golden doodle, who guided us on a tour of the bungalow – bedroom here, courtesy hotel sample toiletries there. Like a friend’s home in Palm Springs, this place has really cool yet practical painted cement floors. And even cooler – the place is practically two homes in one with an outdoor lounge, kitchen, and shower! Yes, an outdoor shower – the ultimate in luxury, and quite necessary as Tucson’s heeellllllaaaa hoooooooooooot. Super hella, hella hot. Thankfully, The Quid and I arrived at night when it’s only a solid hot. And, when in Tucson, do as they do and enjoy the night air on the outdoor couch with good company and some Snoop in my glass – 19 Crimes wine, Snoop Dogg edition. A taste of California in every sip. The next day, I was in no rush to do anything, and The Quid was otherwise engaged with the puppy. The outdoor shower beckoned – so cooling, so cleansing, pretty much private… unless the neighbor happens to be on his roof, as we all are often wont to do. So, mid-dry off, I grab my stuff and dash for more covered quarters. I didn’t streak through the backyard. It was more like stealthily slinking in the shadows and brush – with a clanging bag of toiletries. Tucked away in the comfort of my clothing, our hostess takes us – she brought the puppy so I had to bring the Quid - on a car tour of Tucson. Did I mention it’s really f-ing hot, so yeah, we drove. Sadly, I was so happy to have a break in the 2400-mile drive where I was not driving, and to have a tour guide, and to be air-conditioned while enjoying the landscape-appropriate architecture, and the art of the arty areas of the city, that I forgot to take pictures of the landscape, the architecture, most of the artiness. Hey! I’ve already had a couple long driving days. Staying awake is quite the effort. And gracious hostess to the very end, my friend, who’d already been kind and patient with my high-energy, no boundaries, and well, loud kid, even sent him off with road snacks. I have snacks for my kid! I do feed him! But apparently snacks are better from friends.
We ended up doing a slow-paced blow-through of Arizona. We didn’t see as much as we could or should have, but I saw more and in a better way than those bleak winters in Yuma. I’m sure we’ll be back because we have friends in desert places. |
AuthorGreat transitioner & media operative seeking a position as a script coordinator, writers' room assistant, or staff writer with a TV drama. I'm also open to related jobs with networks and production companies. Landing an agent would be awesome. Archives
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