Posted by: facetothewind | May 23, 2006

Drugged out in the desert

Wow! My first posting on the blog. First – a big thanks to John Brennan for setting this up and encouraging me. If you want to hire John to do your blog, you can reach him at john ATwalkingwired DOT com. He’s also handy with wigs.

TUCSON TUESDAY

I just finished my post breakfast nap drugged out on my ugly sofa on pseudoephedrine. I’ve been suffering from pollen allergies in the desert this year – something that has never happened to me. Apparently this 50 year drought has brought down even the best of us. I’ve had a hard time breathing and have begun to doubt the livability of the desert in a drought.

Oddly, I arrived back in Tucson from Hawaii in March and fell in love with Tucson again (until the pollen kicked in). Well, actually I fell in love with Tucson for the first time. I never really loved Tucson, sorry Dearest Pueblo. It took a year in goddamn tropical paradise to realize how wonderful ordinary can be. Hawaii is just so full of itself, kind of like California without the bling….Santa Cruz with waterfalls.

Hawaii is a beautiful place, without a doubt. But, where I chose to plunk myself has long been the dumping ground for the mentally ill – which, I suppose is why I was allowed to stay. Those of you who visit the Big Island on vacation really never get to see some of the things that I did. Some of the things that led me to fall in love with Tucson!

More about Hawaii later. So I came back to Tucson to recover from a year of building the house there – and with my self-esteem, nerves and finances completely shattered and 2 fingers sawed to the bone. I clung to the dirt in Tucson. Hawaii doesn’t even have dirt, for crying out loud. I found myself at the pool here lying on the deck in tears because the sunshine was just so beautiful – there had been a huge rainy period before I left the Island. I delighted in the friendliness of the people (we’re still talking Tucson) and how wonderfully middle class it was. Hawaii harbors a resentment of the white man. And here in Tucson, being white is, well, perfectly acceptable, perhaps even enviable. In Hawaii, I felt like I needed to lay low. In fact, I was even told by someone to do so or risk getting into a lot of trouble.

So all that I had come to loathe about Tucson – the police, the traffic, the strip malls – magically became exactly what I adored. There were tons of new restaurants and people I’d never met. Island life means seeing the same people all the time – with a sprinkling of wide-eyed tourists in Sebring convertibles whizzing through trying to see the lava. And I have not seen a single person smoking marijuana since I left.

Alas, as everyone knows, Tucson goes from being a delightfully scruffy little town into the 3rd ring of Dante’s hell as June approaches. Now, I sit inside, hiding from the searing heat and sun: too much of a good thing. I pace the house, think about re-arranging the cactus in the courtyard while sucking down Claritin-D and taking puffs off my inhalers.

Hawaii is suddenly seeming really appealing.

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