Month: May 2021

Some folks are obsessed with determining who is at fault for the coronavirus pandemic.

Biologists are certain that the actual cause is zoonotic in nature: a disease transmitted from a non-human organism to a human receptor. There have been a number of these over the years: the Bubonic Plague; West Nile Virus; SARS; MERS; HIV/AIDS, and so forth. A human being is bitten or scratched by a non-human or makes contact with an infected surface and the virus is transferred.

Shit happens: it’s basic biology. Epidemics and pandemics have occurred ever since human beings have occupied Earth and will probably happen more frequently in the future as more humans encroach on territory occupied by non-human species.

So, who is to blame for this?

We could blame God, because He created humans and non-humans and all the viruses, bacteria, germs and such. That would be logical, I guess. Maybe He’s sending a message? Typically, when a disaster takes place, pious televangelists will blame the catastrophe on homosexuals or non-Christians…because God is mad at them.

We could blame the Jews. That’s what Christians did in the Middle Ages when the Bubonic Plague killed forty percent of the people in Europe. The Jews were accused of poisoning the wells and causing widespread havoc and suffering (which they succumbed to, as well). Hundreds of years later it was determined that freight-hauling ocean ships, infested with rats carrying a deadly bacterium, brought the Black Plague to nations near and far. That information came a bit late for the Jews, however, who were persecuted and killed for centuries by angry Christian mobs.

Republican politicians in the United States initially blamed Democratic politicians for creating a “hoax” to derail the Trump 2020 re-election campaign. They claimed that Covid-19 was just the “flu”, too much attention was being paid to it, and it would go away in the Spring like flus always do. Later, they changed their tune: Covid-19 was exaggerated, every death from anything was being attributed to it, etc. Even later, they just gave up the pretense of caring: re-open businesses even if people will die, because the economy is more important than human beings. (After that, they tried to invalidate the election by intimidating Congress and State election officials. They are a determined lot, except when it comes to fighting viruses.)

We could blame the Chinese. That’s where this latest pandemic started, based upon information that we have right now. It is well-established that the first cases of Covid-19 were observed in China late in 2019. Someone was either bitten or scratched by an infested non-human species or that person could have obtained the virus by transfer from an infected surface. Whether that was in a “wet market” ( a place where exotic animals are sold for consumption) or in a laboratory (where epidemiologists were studying viruses), no one knows for sure.

Conspiracy theorists/Trump Republicans would like us to believe that the Chinese government purposely released Covid-19 as a biological weapon…upon America and, simultaneously, its own citizens and China’s allies, as well. That sounds implausible to me, but those Chinese are “inscrutable”…according to some people.

If the Chinese can be blamed, perhaps the ineptitude/hubris of the Trump Administration can be overlooked?

Maybe someday there can be a determination of Patient Zero: the first victim of the Covid-19 pandemic. Or maybe that will never happen. Who was the first SARS, AIDS, or Bubonic Plague victim? Does it really matter?

What matters is what society does when it realizes that an epidemic (or pandemic) is underway. Hopefully, government is prepared for such disasters and can quickly mobilize resources to contain the damage.

What we’ve discovered via the Covid-19 pandemic is that most governments were not adequately prepared, nor could they quickly address the myriad legal, technical, social, and economic fallout from the plague.

The United States did not do a very good job handling the pandemic. More people died in “The Greatest Country on Earth” from Covid-19 than in any other, although it is likely that India will, in the end, take the mortality crown. Of course, they have four times the population we do.

Politicians in America spent an inordinate amount of time debating the reality of the pandemic, how lethal it was, whether or not to employ precautions (like masks, social distancing, business shutdowns, etc.), and who was to blame for the catastrophe. Meanwhile, millions of citizens got sick and hundreds of thousands died. Had strict measures been put in place early in the pandemic to flatten the infection curve, the socio-economic devastation would have been minimized. Unfortunately, the politics of “freedom” trumped science at the Federal, state, and local levels. A half-assed counterattack against the coronavirus was assured and many more people suffered than had to.

WE are to blame for the impact of the coronavirus pandemic on our Nation. Let’s face it, Folks: we did not pull together as one and we paid the price.

The latest distraction of “Who’s to blame?” typifies politics and government in America. When problems arise, it is easier to seek blame than solutions, and it is easier to kick the can down the road than immediately address the issue. Solving problems requires consensus-building, something that America is woefully short on.

Many other nations who found out about the coronavirus epidemic in China at the same time that America did were more successful at containing Covid-19. Thus, our delay in tackling the virus, and the ineptitude of our response, is the problem, not who got the first infection in China and how that happened. We need to get our act together for the next pandemic, which could be right around the corner.

Covid-22 could germinate in Canada…or anywhere. So, what?

If a burglar enters your home in the middle of the night, does it really matter who he is or where he came from?

Who said retired life is boring?

Now that the Covid-19 pandemic has abated (in this community, where 90 percent of the old codgers have been vaccinated), life is resuming normal speed. People are out and about, smiles are back on folks’ faces, and everyone is either hunkering down for a hot Summer or planning to hit the road toward cooler climes.

Last week, I helped a neighbor widow install some chicken wire fencing. That all-morning chore left me with sore hamstrings and leg muscles for a week.

I followed that up with a long day in my own yard, repotting a half dozen shrubs and cacti and drip irrigating the whole mess. More sore legs.

For some reason, I agreed to play tennis with my buddy Lloyd the next day. I never was a tennis player, so my skills are negligible. Of course, I can now supplement that ineptitude with the sore legs (from yard work) and the general atrophy that my lower limbs have suffered in the past couple of years courtesy of two hip replacements. Needless to say, the tennis outing was embarrassing, as I lumbered about with my Redwood tree-like legs, chasing tennis balls to no avail. Lloyd got a good laugh, particularly when I fell backward and crunched my noggin on the concrete court surface.

Charlie and I visited our new neighbor “Dale” at his home the other day. The layout and size of his home is virtually identical to ours; however, he is a 70-something-year-old bachelor whose home is decorated rather sparsely…with the exception of his 85” HDTV, which he uses to watch sporting events at all hours of the day. Dale also has a 26’ travel trailer, which he will use to absent himself from the Mesquite hot plate starting in mid-June. I think he’s heading north to Wyoming.

(Dale is a character. He is an interesting, outgoing guy with lots of stories. However, he has a very annoying habit when he talks: he pauses seemingly every ten seconds to ask, “Okay?”, as if the listener is having trouble following him or doubts the bullshit that he’s spreading. It’s a bad habit that reminds me of a lousy public speaker who interrupts his patter with scores of “uhs”, pauses that allow the fellow to collect his thoughts (I guess). Lots of professional athletes, who aren’t trained speakers, have this annoying habit while being interviewed.)

My hiking/golf/tennis buddy Lloyd is now doing Nutrisystem with Charlie and I. He wants to lose 15 pounds or so, which should be easy since he will supplement the reduced calories with a lot of exercise. He dropped by the other day to play cards with us and mentioned that he’d lost 5 pounds in the first week.

Another neighbor, “Kenny-J”, came by on Friday to talk with us about a landscaping project that he will be doing for us in the next month or so. He will be building us an artificial “mountain-scape” to shield our large cactus plant from southerly winds. He makes these things out of slabs of multicolored sandstone: quite beautiful. Kenny charges $20/hour for his time, works hard and good, and most people that we know use him for various landscaping chores that they’re too lazy (or lack the skills) to do themselves.

Our good friend “Sandy” also dropped by on Friday for drinks and snacks while we played cards for a couple of hours. Sandy is divorced and is an IT tech who used to work for IBM. She does “gig” work now out of her house, hosting “change management” seminars for corporations. I don’t exactly know what she does, but she’s making a few grand a month doing this…so someone’s pleased with her contribution. Sandy will be joining us up in Coos Bay for a week in July, so I may be doing some biking and hiking with her up there.

Earlier today (Saturday), I went over to the marijuana dispensary to pick up some distillate to enhance my Betty Crocker chocolate chip cookies (for our RV trip). That place has to be the most thriving business in Mesquite; loads of cars in the parking lot, lots of customers inside, and the cheapest thing they sell costs $25 CASH. My little container of RSO cost me $75; however, I saw a number of people filling up grocery bags with product…mucho dinero, Senor.

In the evening, Lloyd, Charlie and I went out to dinner at Worden’s (“casual fine dining”) Restaurant here in town. We’d never been there before (it just opened a few months ago). Nice restaurants are scarce here in Mesquite, so we were hoping that we could add this joint to our skimpy list of acceptable dining opportunities. That hope ended early in the evening when our Calimari appetizer arrived at the table: it was terrible, easily the worst that I’ve ever eaten (and I order Calimari often whenever it is on a menu). Then, we waited and waited for our dinner. After an hour, we complained to the owner. She came up with a variety of excuses, ending that pathetic display by throwing her waitress under the bus. Another half hour ensued until Charlie and Lloyd’s entrees arrived. The owner materialized again to explain that they got my order wrong (chicken wings!) and offered me some Buffalo shrimp as a peace offering in lieu of my tardy chicken wings, which were now on the boil in the kitchen.  I did not like the owner/lady, who was in our face making excuses and got testy with Charlie for a minute. About 1-1/2 hours into the ordeal, my chicken wings arrived: they were terrible, the worst I’ve ever had at any restaurant and certainly not “fine dining” by any stretch. We left the restaurant after two hours of crappy service and lousy food. Thankfully, we have a McDonalds in this town.

Making matters worse, Lloyd (my best friend in Mesquite and someone whom Charlie adores) announced that evening that he is going to sell his house and move to Merida, Mexico. I think he is bored and misses his girlfriend, Juanita, who is having problems visiting him from South Africa. Evidently, she can easily travel to Mexico City without the American immigration/visa issue. Lloyd needs some adventure in his life and has just about exhausted the possibilities here in the Sun City area of Nevada. I can’t blame him: I get bored easily and would do the same thing if I was in his boat. Unfortunately, his leaving will leave a void in my life, as we hike, golf, play tennis, enjoy card games, and bullshit a lot. Bummer.

Next week will be busy: Memorial Day on Monday; a pedicure for me on Tuesday; pick up the rig in St. George, Utah on Wednesday; BonBon has surgery (a biopsy) on Thursday morning; and, Charlie will also be having an out-patient procedure that same day at the offices of the local vein doctor.

Our neighbors, the Carnicellis, just bought a motorhome (their first) and have asked us to hit the road with them (in our RV) to break it in. So, we’re leaving on June 7^th for a 3-nighter up in Cedar City, Utah, which is about 100 miles north of us on Interstate 15.

Other than that, Charlie, the dogs, and I are just sitting here absorbing heat, counting down the minutes before we can head off to the cool seaside of Oregon on June 28th.

I read an article in the news today about the State of Florida outlawing the ability of social media services to “deplatform” (kick out) users who violate their terms of service. It sounds un-Constitutional to me.

Florida lawmakers, led by Trump bootlicker and potential 2024 Presidential candidate Governor Ron DeSantis, want to punish social media providers who would have the audacity to deny their platform to abusive candidates during an election campaign.

Gee, I wonder what brought this on?

Could it have been caused by the provocative use of social media by Donald Trump in 2020 that violated every rule of Facebook and Twitter and ended with Trump using those social media sites to egg on supporters to riot and trash the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021???? The ex-President was “deplatformed” for that seditious behavior.

Excuse me for saying this, but…the government doesn’t own the Internet or any of the social media companies who ply their trade therein. What gives the State of Florida the right to regulate commerce in this fashion?

Just as a shop owner has the right to deny service to patrons (“No shirt, no shoes, no come in!”), the social media companies have the right to deny service to prospective customers…particularly those who refuse to behave according to the rules laid down by the service provider. When someone desires to participate in social media, that person must agree to abide by the behavioral standards set by the provider. Donald Trump did that…and then violated those standards.

“You do the crime, you have to serve the time”…at least that’s what we teach our youngsters.

What comes next? Is government going to fine broadcast media who refuse to report an obviously erroneous story? Is Papa Giuseppe’s pizza parlor going to have to admit shoeless patrons…because they’re Republicans?

We’re already being asked by those deranged politicians to pretend that President Trump was cheated out of re-election and that the January 6^th Capitol Riot was merely a bunch of tourists who were innocently sightseeing on Capitol grounds.

Now, it seems, that same political party is trying to legislate the ability of government to punish corporations who won’t promulgate The Big Lie.

Our country is circling the drain, Folks.

It’s windy a lot in the desert, something that we’re pretty used to by now.

Probably because hot air rises, and the desert dirt, rock and sand can get warmer than a pancake griddle, the rising air must be replaced with something…which is the not-as-hot air rushing in to fill the vacuum. Even on a clear, sunny day we have a mild breeze out here…and thank goodness for that.

My buddies Lloyd, Galen and Scott joined me last Thursday for a game of golf at the Oasis-Canyons course here in Mesquite. It was a brutal exercise, and I’m not talking about our golf skills: the wind was a’howlin’ out there. We teed off at 9:40 a.m. into a modest breeze, perhaps 15 mph. Nothing we couldn’t handle with our hacked slices, pulls, and topped shots. A piece of cake!

However, a couple of hours into the ordeal, the wind picked up to maybe 25 mph. Now, we were challenged. Perfectly struck shots (yes, there were a couple of them from the foursome!) dropped from the sky like wounded pheasants. Putts that were on-line and headed for paydirt veered sickeningly away from the cup and guaranteed a three- or four-putt outcome. It was torture.

By the middle of the back nine, we were spent. The blow was now gusting to 45 mph and had now incorporated fine sand into the punishment. Adding to the misery was the backup of other foursomes that were trying valiantly to finish their round. At the 17^th tee box, perched up on a ridge and looking down the green, some 150 yards away and 100 feet below us, we could hardly stand up, let alone attempt to strike a 7-iron.

Like the pansies and cowards that we’ve become, we gave up and took our sandblasted asses back to the clubhouse: this was no fun. (However, with two fewer holes played, we were all able to record decent scores…I think I broke 90!)

(Interestingly, on that Thursday and Friday, the world’s best professional golfers were playing one of the sport’s “major” tournaments at Kiweah Island in South Carolina…in very similar windy weather. Those pros got their asses handed to them…I think the average score on Thursday and Friday was 75 or so…just like we had in Mesquite. On the last two days of that PGA Championship, the wind calmed down a bit to around 15-20 mph, allowing the guys a chance for a few birdies. Still, the winning score after four days was only 6 under par…by Phil Mickelson, the oldest player, at 50 years old, to ever win a “major” golf title. He is a very skilled shotmaker and he needed all of that experience to better the efforts of his “flatbelly” opponents, many of whom were half his age. Take that, you whippersnappers!)

On Friday, good guy Craig helped a neighborhood widow.

Heidi, whose husband Gary died a couple of years ago, and whose Doberman Pinscher died during the pandemic, finally bit the bullet and bought a Dachshund puppy named “Oliver”. That little dog is a cutie; however, it is also a little weasel who can scoot under fences in the blink of an eye. Heidi, who is no small gal, can’t keep up Ollie and is terrified that the dog will get loose on her.

We had that problem with Bon Bon when she was a puppy, so I installed 20” high chicken wire at the base of my 5’ wrought iron fence around the 250’ perimeter of my back yard. It did the job: Bon Bon has now grown just enough that climbing through the wrought iron grates would be a chore if not impossible for her. So, at this time, the chicken wire is not needed at my house.

Good Samaritan that I am, I volunteered to take it down and install it on Heidi’s backyard fence.

What a mistake that was.

Heidi has, probably, the largest lot in our subdivision, a huge pie-shaped monstrosity with probably 350 linear feet of wrought iron fencing in her backyard. My recycled chicken wire would only do about two-thirds of the job, so I had to buy more material and cut it into panels for application with galvanized wire.

Heidi was able to recruit two other Old Fart volunteers to help me with installation. Thank goodness for that, because it took us 3 hours to do it… in 20- to 40-mph winds! Man, that sucked! It was hard enough to crouch down and twist wire for 3 hours, but the ferocious wind really took the starch out of us…we could hardly stand at times. What an ordeal. My thin-skinned hands are now all pocked with scabs from scratches and punctures.

All in a day’s work for Mr. Scabby…

Afterwards, Heidi said, “Craig, what can I do for you to thank you for all you’ve done? How about a gift certificate or a fancy dinner for you and Charlie?” I said, “You can thank me by not telling any other widows that I did this!”

For the past three days, I’ve been relegated to sitting on the couch, watching TV…while my aching hamstrings regain their composure.

It sucks being old.

The Republican Party is now publicly soiling itself in a scramble to kiss ex-President Trump’s ass.

Not only have the Party leaders uniformly adopted the “Big Lie” fable about the 2020 Presidential election and are intimating publicly that the January 6^th Capitol Riot wasn’t really an insurrection where people were killed and the seat of American government was trashed, but now are purging former mainstream Republicans in favor of Trumpist fanatics.

Liz Cheney, the number 3 Republican in Congress and the daughter of former V.P. Dick Cheney, was summarily kicked to the curb this week because…she won’t play along with the Big Lie charade: she’s actually admitted, publicly, that Joe Biden won the 2020 election…by 7 million votes!

That’s preposterous, Liz.

Card-carrying Republican faithful must now believe in something that didn’t happen (the “stolen” election) and disbelieve something that did (the January 6^th Capitol Riot). “Don’t believe your eyes, Folks!”, says the hustler.

Con-artist extraordinaire Donald Trump has a Nation full of political cowards licking his boots, begging for his approval…and campaign funding for 2022. The egomaniac has got to be loving this. He must feel like Don Corleone at his daughter’s wedding: everyone fighting for a place in line to kiss his ring.

The odd part of all of this is that Donald Trump has now lost the popular vote for President of the United States…twice. He is, by definition, a loser. Why do Republicans want to fawn over a loser?

Meanwhile, life goes on.

The Nationwide vaccination program seems to be bearing fruit: infections and deaths are down, masks are coming off, businesses are reopening, and there appears to be “light at the end of the tunnel”…pandemic-wise. Gee, I hope folks in Washington D.C. were paying attention to this catastrophe and will be better prepared next time. Because, as sure as the sun will come out tomorrow, there will be another pandemic down the road. Bet on it.

Inflation is rearing its ugly head, just as predicted. Housing, food, fuel…it’s all getting pricier. Supposedly (according to Federal stats) the C.P.I. is increasing at 6 percent or so right now. However, it is obvious that the actual rate is two to three times that amount. Government officials in charge of such information, no matter if there is a Republican or Democratic Administration, always bump those figures down for political reasons. The price of lumber required to build a 3BR, 2Bath house has doubled in the past 9 months. Gasoline was $2 per gallon 6 months ago; now, it’s $3.30. And so forth. We’re not idiots, we can see what’s happening.

Standard of living is going to nosedive…unless you’re one of the super-rich. Lunch Bucket Joe’s and their families are going to be tightening belts a lot. Homelessness will become much more common in the next year or so.

President Joe Biden is attempting to find some common ground with the Republicans on a massive infrastructure plan which would pump some life into the American economy by reinvesting in key components of the Nation’s economic engine. Hopefully, the Democratic and Republican do-nothings in Congress can agree on something…other than the fact that they hate each other.

Speaking of hate, those warring Middle Easterners are at it again. Israel and Hamas (which is a Palestinian terrorist organization funded by Iran) and trading rockets and mayhem right now like they did back in 2014. Nothing good will come of this: it never does in that part of the world. Russia, Turkey, and Iran could easily up the ante…just to make Israel squirm. (And, of course, the U.S. would feel obligated to help out.)

Hey, I thought Trump’s much-ballyhooed Middle East “peace plan” resolved all of this stuff…what happened?

Of course, when you have your son-in-law brokering peace in the Middle East, and he seeks agreement from pipsqueak nations instead of the major combatants, not much can really be expected. Like almost all Trump initiatives, the Middle East Peace Plan was all show, no go. It was a hamburger without a patty. Ex-Special Presidential Advisor-in-Chief Jared Kushner, Ivanka’s husband, seems to have disappeared from view…understandably, as his grand achievement has predictably vanished like a sandcastle encountering its first ocean wave.

More interesting news: a significant ransomware attack on a key oil pipeline caused some real problems this past week until the corporate owners caved to the ransom demand and paid $5 million.

My hiking buddy Lloyd immediately blamed President Joe Biden for the crime: “He’s not doing anything about it!”, he proclaimed.

Uh, how do you know that, Sir? I’m sure that America’s cybersecurity officials are scrambling to figure out how this happened, who did it, how to punish them, and how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Crime prevention is tough work…no matter who is President.

Of course, cybercrime didn’t appear to be a big priority in American government when you-know-who was running things. Not only did Russian cybercriminals help get him elected, but they also massively penetrated Federal government operations in 2019/2020 and our President did nothing to offend his buddy, Vladimir Putin. During Trump’s four years in office, cyberterrorism against U.S. companies and government agencies by the North Koreans and Iran also ran rampant…with no apparent retaliation.

Why?

If I’m going to credit President Biden with (presumably) doing something about this behind the scenes, I need to extend the same courtesy to the ex-President. Surely, America has qualified people working on this, and it’s classified and all that stuff, so we citizens don’t “have a need to know” all that secret stuff.

I get it. However, America should not be a proving ground for cyberterrorism: we need to publicly flex our muscles from time to time, else tin pot dictators and mischievous errand boys working for Putin, Xia, and the Ayatollah will continue to poke us in the nose…for fun. How about we shut down the Russian electrical network for an hour?

The Kingmaker has got to be loving this drama, particularly since he now bears no responsibility. Back in the early years of his Presidency, Trump blamed his failings on ex-Prez Obama. Thus far, Joe Biden has refrained from such sophomoric behavior.

Like the Wizard of Oz, Donald Trump works his scam from behind the screen, orchestrating his lackeys in State Houses and in Congress to put the brakes on Biden Administration initiatives while simultaneously encouraging enhancement of the Big Lie fable and diminishing public recollection of his lame attempted takeover of the American democracy on January 6^th 2021.

What a life…P.T. Barnum would be proud!

On Wednesday, May 5^th, Charlie, Lloyd (my hiking buddy), and I set off on a one-week trip to Colorado to see our “adopted 5^th son” Jason Friedman and test-drive our recent repairs to the RV.

We had a nice run up to Grand Junction, Colorado that first day. Weather was great, the dogs were calm in the rig, we had plenty to chat about while we drove the 360 miles, and the improved suspension (5 new air bags) gave us a nice, smooth ride.

After a good night’s sleep, we headed east on I-70 toward Denver. What a beautiful part of the country that is!

Unfortunately for us, the high-fiving came to an unceremonious halt about two miles east of Vail, when the RV lost power on I-70 and I had to quickly find a wide spot adjacent to the slow lane to glide to a stop. It was obvious that something REAL BAD had happened, and some close inspection under the rig revealed that the U-joint/drive shaft (about 2’ long) had gone south on us.

(Had this catastrophe happened a couple hundred yards east, where I-70 was choked down to one lane due to construction, my dead-in-the-water motorhome would have totally blocked the interstate highway for an hour or so.)

We were lucky to quickly find a big rig towing service that could come to our rescue and haul the motorhome 100 miles into west Denver to a major trucking repair facility. The tow bill was $2,100, of which my Allstate insurance will probably reimburse a puny $250.

However, we had to count our blessings. No one got hurt, we didn’t block the Interstate (and get shot by some pissed-off, gun-toting Coloradan), and the breakdown occurred within 80 miles of Jason’s home in Arvada, where we planned to stay for 5 days anyway. So, at least we had somewhere to crash while the rig was repaired.

By Tuesday night, the repair folks had assessed the damage and had ordered the replacement part. They estimated that they could get the job done by the following Monday night. Parts and labor would be $2,600.

There’s goes our “stimulus” money!

Our trip plan had called for several days of hiking and a round of golf in the Denver area, so the only blip (an expensive one!) on our itinerary was that the motorhome would be parked in a repair shop instead of Jason’s driveway.

On Friday, the Three Amigos (Jason, Lloyd and I) went on a hike in the mountains near Boulder on the Indian Peak Trail. It was supposed to be a 13-mile trek, but we had to cut it short to maybe five miles because we ran into too much snow and ice on the trail, which started at around 10,000 feet elevation. We made it to 11,000 feet before calling it quits. It was a beautiful hike, though: spectacular scenery and a rip-roaring stream right next to the trail. Nothing like our desert hikes in Nevada.

On the way down the mountain, near Nederland, Jason got pulled over by the local cops for speeding 45 mph in a 25 mph zone. What saved him was his demeanor (he announced very quickly to the male officer that he had a gun in the car, politely showed his paperwork for concealed carry) and the fact that his license plate identified him as ex-US Navy. This seemed to be of particular interest to cop’s female partner/supervisor, who happened to be training the young male officer. The lady officer, SGT FINE-LOVEN, gave Jason some good lovin’ when she decided to just issue him a warning for being a scofflaw.

On Saturday, we hiked the Mountain Lion Trail, a 7-mile loop which started at 7,500’ and peaked at 9,000’ elevation. It was a very nice outing: some snow and ice, but most of the trail was excellent and the scenery was, again, very Rocky Mountain-ish. What a beautiful place!

Also, we crossed paths with a female moose about a half-mile into the hike. Luckily for us, she didn’t have a young one with her, or we might have gotten our asses handed to us. On the bright side, we observed many college coeds hiking in skin-tight Spandex leggings. Like I said, the scenery up here is magnificent.

Sunday was supposed to be our golf day. However, some cold, threatening weather was moving into the area and we decided against swinging golf clubs in 43-degree weather. Not my cup of tea, for sure, with the infestation of arthritis that plagues my hands and wrists.

So, we stayed in the Arvada neighborhood, walking the dog pack (our two plus Ashka, Jason’s 13-year-old Siberian Husky), doing some shopping, playing cards and keeping warm in the house.

The Arvada community, which is maybe ten miles upstream of Denver, is a very nice suburb with nice amenities, beautiful 50-year-old trees, lots of walking paths, and such. The dogs, in particular, have enjoyed the visit, as we have taken many short hikes in the community, following streams, greeting other dogs and their owners, and observing chickens, goats, and waterfowl along the way. Baby and BonBon are enthralled with all of it, and especially getting to wander off the concrete walkways into REAL GRASS. They are truly in Hound Dog Heaven.

Jason owns a 50-year-old 2,900 s.f. “fixer upper” which is fairly good shape. It is a two-level home, street level plus basement, with the square footage about equally divided between the stories. Jason is in the process of remodeling the basement into a 1,400 s.f. unit that he can either rent out or live in himself (and maybe rent out the main floor). He’s already remodeled the bedroom and bathroom down there and also converted one of the rooms into a major league audiovisual man cave with high tech “surroundsound”…in spades. (During our visit, the guys watched a marathon showing of the John Wick action movies while Charlie read a book.)

Jason is a manager with Richmond America, which is a large residential construction company that (in the Denver area alone) is building 5,000 units over a number of years. Jason manages a bunch of project managers who are responsible for about 500 units currently under construction. He is well versed in all the trades from his earlier experience with Pulte Homes and Lennar (I believe), so this enables him to do most of his home remodeling by himself at his leisure.

He’s a 48-year-old guy who lives with his dog, works hard, and is a 15-year veteran of Alcoholics Anonymous, within which he is a leader. He’s also very fit and has competed in numerous Iron Man competitions. The only thing he lacks is a good woman, and it’s not for trying. We’ve met a number of nice gals that he’s romanced over the years and they’ve all seemed to have potential. However, his life is busy, he is a very high energy guy, and has lots of intense outdoor hobbies. Most of the women he has hooked up with (online) are in their late 30’s and early 40’s and come complete with their own issues and baggage. So, maybe a lifelong female companion just isn’t in the works for Jason. It’s too bad, because he needs that extra component to complete him.

It is Monday morning now, its raining, and our RV repairs are supposed to be completed later today. We are scheduled to hit the road back to Mesquite (via a stopover in Grand Junction) tomorrow, but that will depend upon completion of the repairs and the weather, as it is supposed to snow tomorrow.

Hopefully, we can get home safely later in the week.

UPDATE: We did! Six hundred miles of smooth-sailing across I-70 and down I-15. No dropped drive shafts, no overheating, no vibrations…no nada. I think The Beast is ready for the annual RV Road Trip in late June.

Yay!

Patio Time has begun in Sun City Mesquite.

Every afternoon, Charlie and I spend some time out in the backyard under the pergola having some adult beverages, enjoying the day and the landscaping, and occasionally visiting with friends who drop by to chat.

We’ve met the most interesting people here, folks who have done a lot, seen a lot, and have earned wisdom through the School of Hard Knocks.

Last week, a girlfriend of Charlie introduced me to a fellow who she has been seeing for a month. His name is Ken, he’s a widower (his wife died of cancer), he’s retired from the mining industry (in Wyoming), and is a full-time RV’er who winters in Salome, Arizona (about 90 miles west of Phoenix).

Ken used to manage a big trona mining operation, so he’s quite handy with tools, he repairs and improves his Holiday Rambler motorhome, and also owns and maintains off-road vehicles and a truck camper unit. It so happens that his HR diesel pusher is about the same age as our Monaco Windsor, so he’s encountered many of the same RV issues over the years. I spent a half day with Ken vacuuming up knowledge from him. What a nice guy.

Yesterday, my good hiking buddy, Lloyd, introduced Charlie and I to some friends who were visiting Mesquite from the Napa Valley (in California) where Lloyd used to own a Merlot grape growing operation. His friend’s name is Curt, and he has lived a very full life, graduating from Cal Berkeley, going into the luxury home construction business, making a crapload of money, losing most of it in bankruptcy when the economy crashed, but recovering and doing well. His wife (I forgot her name!) was also a Cal Berkeley grad, was a marijuana smoking Hippie flower child in the Sixties, ended up somehow in Madrid, Spain, became a Spanish tutor, went to Mexico City in that capacity, and then helped her husband’s business thrive (they had 365 employees at one time).

We had a very nice dinner with the three of them and found out that the couple is considering moving from Napa to Mesquite. That would be cool; very nice people. And he golfs, too.

There are several single women in the area who Charlie pals around with. They occasionally have a “girls night” event where they drink and snack and tell a bunch of lies (I’m guessing!). They are all nice gals and I’m happy that Charlie can spend some quality girl time with them; it must be pretty boring listening to me all of the time.

Yesterday, I went for a ride in my neighbor Sharon’s off-road vehicle (a fancy CanAm rock climber). Sharon is a very unusual widow: she’s 79 years old, talks and acts with the energy of a 50-year-old, and is the only woman member of the local ORV club. She and the guys routinely go on trips out into the remote desert areas, leaving at 8:30 a.m. and returning at 4:30 p.m. That is a lot of sun, dirt, and noise. Those ORVs are very loud: I don’t think I could put up with the noise like they do. Sharon is lucky though: she’s almost deaf, so the engine noise is a minor problem for her. Another minor problem for her: money, I gather. She moved here from Palm Springs, has bought two ORV’s in the past 3 months, and is now talking about selling her home and moving up the street to a higher (and more expensive) location with a great view of the mountains. She is a writer who still does some classified work for NASA, according to her. So, I think she can afford it.

Later in the day, our neighbors, the Carnacellis, brought home their recently-purchased 2018 Mirada Class A motorhome. It’s a 36-footer, with a ten-cylinder Ford gas engine, and is nicely appointed. Galen, the husband, knows nothing about RV’s, so another neighbor (Al) and I have volunteered to do a short RV trip in late May to teach Galen and his wife Sherry the ropes. We may go to a “boondock” area so that Al can show both of us his wide knowledge of dry camping. I’m looking forward to that.

I picked up The Beast from Premier Truck in St. George early this morning. They replaced 5 air bags, some air line fittings, and the dessicant filter for the air ride system. I had them examine the shocks and brakes and they told me that I’m okay for now. The hour drive down I-15 in my repaired rig was quite comfortable and level; I think those mechanics up there know what they’re doing.

Later in the morning, I met my new neighbor Dale. He bought the home across the street from us that was once owned by Marcus Kline, the only guy that I know of in Mesquite that died from Covid-19. (Marcus visited Branson, Missouri during the pandemic to celebrate the life of a friend. Virtually everyone who attended the celebration caught Covid-19. It was a superspreader event, a celebration of death, as it were.)

Dale is a single guy who has a 26′ travel trailer in which he will live in the hot months, far from Mesquite, Nevada. I believe that he hails from Utah, in the Salt Lake area. Anyway, he appears to be another interesting guy who we can pump for interesting stories during Patio Time in the backyard.

It’s nice to have friends, and it’s even nicer to be able to visit with them without a mask!

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