Chuy the Performer

Charlie's Fourth grade had a Pet Day this week. Each child could bring his pet to school for a ten to fifteen minute time to greet the children and show their pet off. Charlie's cat, who is a grouchy thirteen year old, was less than thrilled to visit a classroom of students so he asked if Chuy could be his pet for the day. I was positive Chuy would appeal to the kids. He did. At first, Charlie had to rein him in, the puppy was so eager to dash into the crowd of kids and lick each and every one of them. So Charlie had his hands full trying to pull Chuy back and still tell his class a bit about Chuy and his breed. Then he took the bag of treats and shook it over his head and asked if anyone wanted to see tricks. There were unaminous shouts of agreement. First Chuy sat and shook paws, then Charlie took a small cup of butter out of his bag and immediately Chuy was up on his hind legs, walking across the room for the smell of butter, oblivious to the fact that he was on two legs and not four. He looked good. One little boy cried out, "He's the Best Trained Dog In The World!" The children cheered. The teacher voiced his approval. Grandma was proud. Chuy went on to do some "Up and Around"s and another big walk for the kids, now more interested in his treats than the many children cheering him on. Charlie finished up taking Chuy in the crowd so the kids could pet Chuy, then we had to go. A little girl appeared with her gray kitten, not more than eight weeks old and suddenly all the attention for the performing dog was centered on "Awwwww!" the cute little kitten.

I took Chuy and his bag of treats and bid Charlie and his class good-bye. Chuy left, but you could tell what he was thinking, "Dumb cat!"

How Do You Explain This?

Ninety-nine blogs ago, I started this Blog with the intent to show Life's Coincidents and what they might mean in our lives. I haven't always had coincidents to write about and have had to make do with the mundane, most of the time. But this is my 100th blog and I've got one of the darnedest, most unexplainable coincidents that's ever happened to me. Maybe one of you-all will have an explanation for it. If you do, by all means, let me hear it. I'm open to it.

Two days ago, I packed up the car and took the animals with me for our Summer Trek back to California. I had the Explorer stuffed with the two kitties in their carriers in the back seat, Sam Bird, the African Gray parrot in his carrier on the floor in the back seat, the trunk was stuffed with four boxes of shirts and fabric waiting to be made into shirts for SOMETHING FISHY and Chuy, the puppy, was snuggled into my lap for the better part of the trip. (Thank goodness he's not bigger than eighteen pounds or he wouldn't have fit behind the wheel!) We left Mr. Bill back in AZ to care for the houses.

I spent the night in Mojave, at a pet friendly motel, after ten hours on the road. Chuy was less than thrilled to share the bed with the cats so spent part of his night on the floor and Spooky the cat, who never shows herself to strangers, spent the better part of her night sitting in the window staring at the lit swimming pool, imagining she was in a Cat Version of Las Vegas, perhaps.

We started out the next morning at six thirty, getting up over the Tehachapis before the wind got very hard. I was trying to stop every hour and a half to two hours so Chuy and I could stretch our legs and he could pee (ditto for me). But there were places in both Arizona and California that the rest stops were closed, so sometimes our rest stops stretched to two hours or more. Well, that's the way it worked yesterday morning. Buttonwillow's rest stop was closed for repairs so we had to drive nearly two and a half hours before we could find a rest stop at Coalinga.

Now, while Chuy is finding the proper spot to expend his pee (believe me, this dog can be a connoisseur of Best Pee Spots!) I'm going to digress for a minute to fill you-all in on some background. One of our best friends in this whole world, named Tom, lives down the road in Apache Junction. Tom was one of our best Harley riding buddies in California and when we bought the house in Superior we convinced him to relocate there for his retirement too and he's been real happy with the riding and the climate down there. But this past year, for reasons not always explainable, we haven't seen too much of Tom. We've only had a couple of rides with him and we probably haven't seen him more than three times since Christmas. We had gotten together a couple of weeks ago to show him the new house and I mentioned that I'd be going back to the beach on the 19th. A week later, he said he was planning a ride to California but hadn't said when. And then, well, nothing. We got busy and that was that.

So now here I am in this rest stop in Coalinga. Chuy finally found a bush worthy to relieve himself in and I'd gone to stand in line at the Ladies. The rest stop was beginning to take more time than I wanted to spend, but since it was doubtful I'd find another rest stop open in the next hour, I decided to claim my place in line. When I finished, I spied a vending machine and spent a few minutes prying quarters out of my pocket to buy a Dr. Pepper.

With the cold soda in hand, I heard a motorcycle roll into the parking lot and I turned to look. I hadn't seen any bikes at all that morning, that I can remember. Pulling up to the curb, not ten feet away from me, just like we were in some dumb movie, is our old friend Tom on his big orange Road Glide.

I gawked, dumbfounded. "Tom! What in the world are you doing here?" I greeted.

"Nancy? Is that you?" He sounded equally surprised.

"Geez! We never get together in Arizona anymore, we have to meet at a rest stop in California?" I teased. But yes, I guess that's what was supposed to happen. I kept wanting to shake my head in wonder at all the coincidences that happened along that would result into us running into each other at the rest stop. What were the odds?

But Chuy's reaction was the best. After Tom and I chatted for a moment, he asked to see Chuy, so we walked over to the car and I let the puppy out. Frantically, he leaped out the car door and into Tom's waiting arms, licking his face thoroughly and squealing ecstatically, as though saying, "Gee, Mommy drove me all this way away from home to this hot place just so I could go potty and see my Uncle Tom and give him some kisses!" So because I don't have a better explanation for running into Tom, I'm going to use Chuy's and just enjoy it. Anybody got a better one?

A Sense of Community

We had a car show in Superior Saturday night. The Chamber put on its second annual "Cruisin' Main" and old cars and (mostly) old people turned up to look at them and get nostalgic. It was a hot day, 104 or so, and was taking a toll on folks. A lot gathered in the shade, but still lingered to check out the old cars. Every once in a while, a group would pull away from the curb and drive showily up Main Street, letting us all get a gawk at what Once Was.

We found Bert out in front of his Toast Bistro, preparing to grill some special bleu cheese and chorizo hamburgers for the supper hour. He'd been open since eight that morning and normally doesn't keep the restaurant open that late on a Saturday. But since this was a special Saturday, he was going to serve supper. We promised to return.

Since Bert opened Toast in December, he's been experimenting with his menu and times he's open. A good deal has to do with his own stamina but it's been a tough five months, opening his new restaurant right at the darkest economic times we've seen in decades. One of the things he's dreamed about was keeping the place open in the evenings for the locals to come in and enjoy some of his offerings and talk and catch up with each other.

Well, he achieved it Saturday night. When we got there at six thirty, all the tables save one were filled. And except for one table, all of them were filled with folks from the community. It was Party Time at Bert's Toast and a spontaneous, easy time was enjoyed by everybody, even the group that had only shown up for the car show. Folks were talking back and forth from the tables and chatting and carrying on, all the while enjoying these hot grilled chorizo burgers melting with bleu cheese and served on Bert's singular artisan rolls.

It was sublime. It was great fun. And it's what a lot of us have envisioned for Superior and thought maybe we'd never see again. A bustling downtown spirit, a place where the locals can dine and hang out and share their opinions and a great sense of community. And it looks like, at least at certain moments like these on Saturday night, that we can achieve that which some thought might never be again. Superior rising from the ashes of what Once Was and regaining her rightful place, as Main Street America.

I'm going to hang around for more!

A STRANGE STORY

Marilu came to visit us last week. She's the lady we purchased the new house from. She's 84 or 85 and we didn't know her well before we bought the house, but now that she's moved away, we keep in touch and it's almost like we gained an elderly aunt as well as a new house to fix up. During her visit, I took her inside to look at the paint and colors we were putting on her once white walls and she approved. She approved the roses and verbena blooming in her once empty flower beds. She told Bill and me she's real happy we bought the house. It feels like it's in good hands to her.

During the course of her visit, I showed her where I was moving aside hundreds of bricks to rebuild a brick patio that had become overrun with grass and weeds. "Watch out for scorpions!" she warned me.

"Scorpions? I haven't seen one, although I've been looking for them," I said. "I don't think there's any around."

"There are too!" She moved her hand in front of my face and massaged a finger on her right hand. "I got bit on this finger a few years ago. A big brown one! I called 9-1-1 and it was three days before I got feeling back in it. Ooohhh! I HATE scorpions!" She shuddered.

"Well, I'll keep my eyes open," I promised. "But I've moved that pile of bricks out there and haven't seen a one."

"Oh, it wasn't in the garden," Marilu exclaimed. "It was in the kitchen. I'd just gotten up and was standing by the sink, running some water for coffee. This big brown scorpion crawled out of the drain and bit my finger. I've ALWAYS checked the drain after that!"

"Strange," I muttered, wondering whether Marilu was mistaken or just telling 'an old lady's tale'. "But I've seen nothing in the drain. I haven't even seen a dead bug in the house."

"They come up through the drain from the sewer," she repeated ominously.

I didn't repeat the story to Bill. Again, I thought it was just a tale she was telling me.

The next day, I was doing some painting in the living room and came into the kitchen to use the sink to rinse out a brush. ( I LOVE water based paints!) As the water was running, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. At the mouth of the drain in the same sink Marilu had warned me about was a fair sized, two and a half inch brown scorpion. It was waving his tail menacingly at me. Like maybe he was trying to catch and sting my finger.

I drew back, sucking my breath in. Yep! Here was Marilu's scorpion, come out of the sewer and into the sink to take a bite of the new owner. Well, lucky for me, I rinsed him back down the sink before he had a chance to put his plan into effect. But I keep my eyes open now and realize it wasn't just a story Marilu was telling me!