Dry Like A Desert …

I had this ridiculous notion that, where there is water, there is lusciousness, right? Water brings life, brings growth, brings green. So, spotting the string of lakes on the map along the Arizona “West Coast”, I thought this would make for a pleasant change. Well, not so in Arizona. It seems, like their politics, they don’t do, nor have anything expected. The day started with dust devil warnings as if dry and barren weren’t enough, and continued with dry, dry, dry then water. Dry, dry, dry then water. Endless roads through endless openness of nothingness, with wind for sound and brush for company and the suddenness of great masses of water. A fascinating mars scape cycling to the beat of its own, invisible drum.

The road wiggled through past Parker Dam, Lake Havasu, tucked into California and Pacific Time briefly, then into Nevada and through Searchlight, famed for the Senate Majority Leader, Harry Reid.  You would certainly need a searchlight to find anything of worth in this nondescript mining town. Passing through Henderson, NV, simply the bedroom community for the real desert attraction, the ultimate in … would-not-exist-here-without-water-and-doesn’t-belong … desert towns. Vegas babe!

Lights, sights, delights and bites. Vegas is an acquired taste. It helps to abandon judgement, forgo logic and reason, amend expectation, and adjust your attitude. Vegas is as fake as a rhinestone tiara and its suppose to be.  Set against a backdrop of neutral and beige, everything here pops like a gun. It’s vulgar and fantastic, it shimmers and delights, it amazes and inspires, and it rakes in the dough from mindless masses drawn like moths to its twinkling candles.

It also attracts convention businesses such as mine to the Las Vegas Convention Center, still the ultimate in faultless organization and enterprise. But, Vegas is a town where everyone is with someone and I missed my shotgun buddy, Dee. Helped somewhat by our familiar surroundings of the Hampton Inn, this time Hampton Tropicana, but without her clucking and fussing and chatting and suggesting. Her endless ability to notice what one never sees. A Kitchen & Bath trade show that I know she would have salivated over. But, she stepped with me through each selection, every vendor, every tile and countertop, every lighting and fixture, every new invention and conception. Present in inspiration if not in body.

Work complete … time to play. Onwards back to Arizona and the annual “Route 66 Fun Run” with my Phoenix Car group gathering in Kingman. Perfect timing and a broken return journey.

Gas $3.65.



About Gerre

I am a person in transition. Sold my NJ home and heading for my new place in AZ. My "do over" as my friend Dee calls it. Life is about transitions. This is my latest.
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3 Responses to Dry Like A Desert …

  1. Darlene says:

    As always Gerre – great writing and good pictures. Darlene

  2. Pat Dodson says:

    Your car certainly does give her all. And you show your gratitude by riding in the “Queen”. Hope she isn’t the jealous type. Please keep traveling. I’m hooked.

  3. George says:

    $3.65???! how?

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