Posted by: facetothewind | April 12, 2004

A Very Raw Easter Rant

I wrote this about my Sunday here in Tucson. I thought you might like it. It’s a little snapshot of what my “enchanted life” has become…in the words of David Brooks: materialism shot through with enchantment….

Easter Sunday 2004


I ran into an old flingette from Santa Cruz who has moved here (count em 11 from SC now – there must be some worm hole between SC and Tucson) with his boyfriend in tow…who is ever so adorable and had the cutest patootie I’ve seen since Jasper’s!

John was in a FOUL mood – I hope his meds are not failing him. I see the signs again, a tanking well-being. The party was good for him – got him out of the house and he flirted like mad with that old flame. It was very funny to see these guys at Brad’s party. (I whispered in his ear, “can you still hit the bedboard?” He blushed.) They quite like it here. I have to say, I do too. To my shock and awe, er horror, I am liking Tucson….now that I’m far removed from the pickings and toothless grinnings of my previous Camaro world, I, myself, am smiling once again.

John and I stopped by Toothless Plaza to get some Peeps for the BBQ (yes we were cruel to the friendly little marshmallow creatures and we even floated one in the koi pond) and the entire ROW of shitty candy and Easter crap was completely ravaged. There was one box of Peeps left. I mean, a fucking ROW of candy was annihilated, empty. It looked like a street in Iraq. Can you imagine all those sugar-addicted kids clawing the remains of Peeps and Cadbury eggs? Ironically (and cleverly) there is a dentist’s office nexxt to the grocery store. I hope they take food stamps.

I’m awful. I’ve become a classist pig. A bobo.

On the flip side…Gads, Jasper and I went to LaEncantada for Easter lunch after boning each other for Jesus’ rez-erection…I have never seen such a large collection of fat, unhappy, poorly-dressed rich people in my life. They’re miserable. Absolutely seething. Maybe because we were so joyful that the contrast was notable. But the clothes – oh god. These rich people have no excuse for that. One lady had a Wilma Flintstone dress – cut into strips at the hem and wore blue high heels…no, turquoise – even worse. Ugh! Another chick with fake tits had her hair did (sic – thank you Missy Elliot) like a big, frizzy dog just back from the clippers. She walked around turning on her heels and bossing her pussy-whipped husband around. She was like some little yappy dog with silicone implants.

Then there were the Stares and the Points. We held hands the whole time and I danced around like a little pixie with Jasper’s children shot deep inside waiting for me to drop them off at the pool. The Points couldn’t help but notice, look down and titter. I guess we were far more entertaining than their own clan from Nebraska.

Anyway, the whole place is creepy, but the views are stunning…180 degree views of the parking lot.

Oh and the music piped into every nook and cranny (what is a cranny, anyway?) that sent me into a Kenny G dreamland where everyone flies around on soprano saxophones.

Ugh. Is this what we’ve become?

Don’t answer that. I know all too well the answer: No this is not what we’ve become…this is what all the people who lead their lives inside the fluorescent big box stores WISH they could become. It is after all, La Encantada – “The Enchanted.”



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