Well, actually I’m not lost, but you don’t realize how much you rely on a computer until you don’t have one at your fingertips 24/7. While we were in Florida, you probably remember, the rental didn’t have a computer hookup, so we had to go to the activities center to pick up the wifi signal. We stopped at Rocky and Nina’s for a couple of days, and they didn’t have wifi. We could use their computer to check e-mails, but it didn’t have my address book in it, so there was no way for me to send e-mails from the yahoo website without knowing what the e-mail address is.

Now we’re at Kevin and Stacy’s in Arizona and, since they’re only here on short vacations, they don’t have a wifi signal here either. Luckily, we’re able to use Stacy’s parents’ computers and hook into their wifi, so we aren’t totally incummunicado. We were sitting here last night watching the Fiesta Bowl and talking about Kevin and Stacy’s condo in Middleville. Kevin had told her that they were building townhouses across the street. None of us knew the exact definition of a townhouse and how that differs from a free standing house or a condominium. I would normally go to my computer, type “townhouse definition” into Google and see what came up. It probably would have taken me to Wikipedia and it would have told me way more than I ever wanted to know about townhouses in easy to understand language.

I’m typing this Tuesday afternoon while Jean and Stacy are shopping. I decided to stay here and guard the house rather than follow a bunch of women around in several stores, getting in the way of other shoppers. I need solitude to write these e-mails. Things are going around in my head and I can’t type fast enough to get them all down. When Jean comes in, she usually starts talking the minute she hits the door and telling me extremely important information that I need to know to survive. I lose my train of thought (a short train with an engine, a coal car, and a caboose) and my thoughts are gone.

We had a great Christmas with Mom, brother Bob (aka Bobbie Butane), his friend Patti, my Aunt Sharon and Uncle Fred. We often have Thanksgiving and/or Christmas with Becky and whatever kids can make it home. For some reason, the conversation usually turns to Becky and her ex husband raising dogs, which degenerates to discussing the exact process of the collection of materials for artificial insemination. I knew that wouldn’t be the case with Mom, Aunt Sharon and Uncle Fred there, but it wasn’t much better.

Bob was talking about his friends who were naturalists. I was naive enough to think that he meant those people who walk around watching birds. They are usually wearing khaki shorts and pith helmets with a pair of binoculars (the people, not the birds). WRONG!!! He meant they were wearing nothing at all and they lived in one of those communities that junior high boys try to sneak into all the time. Then he told us they were in their late seventies or early eighties. For some reason, we all stopped eating and that was the end of a very good Christmas dinner.

The trip through Texas, New Mexico and Arizone was relatively uneventful. However, if I never drive through Houston or San Antonio again, I’ll be happy. The cities go on forever and ever and, since they’re otherwise in the middle of nowhere, a whole bunch of interstates converge there. We went though in the middle of the day, but the traffic was heavy and the lane I was supposed to be in was not always obvious. The Tom Tom told me where to go, but I couldn’t look at the picture on the screen and stay out of the way of maniac cowboy drivers at the same time. We made it OK and only got the “you’re number one” wave a couple of times.

We stopped for the night in Ozona, Texas. The towns with motels are all about 60 miles apart in West Texas. We had planned to get to Fort Stockton (I expected to meet he cavalry there), but it would have taken us until past 8 PM to make it. We had gotten up at 5:30 AM and started at 6:15, so we were both very tired. We went into a Best Western that looked nice and were third in line to check in. The guy at the counter was about 5’3″ (both tall and around). He asked what the price was and the clerk told him $89.95. He said, “I only have $80.00 in the budget. Would you drop it to that?” Jean and I both could have strangled the guy. I was thinking to myself, “You’re out here in the middle of nowhere, and the only other choice is a Holiday Inn Express for $119.99. What makes you think you are in a strong bargaining position?” The clerk told him he had a room on the second floor with one bed for $85.99, so the guy took it. The clerk was kinder than I would have been. My answer would have been, NEXT! We saw the guy and his wife at the only restaurant in town while we were having dinner. After seeing her, that bed was going to be stressed to its limit (weight…not action).

We drove along the Rio Grand for about 50 miles on the way to El Paso. I’d like to say it was beautiful, but we couldn’t see it. The air temperature was 31 and the river was much warmer than that, so we drove in a fog bank for all 50 miles. Since we were so close to the border, we saw a border patrol stop on the Eastbound side of the highway. All cars and trucks had to stop and traffic was backed up a half mile or so. After we got past El Paso and crossed into New Mexico, we had a border patrol stop on our side. There wasn’t much traffic and we were the first ones in line. We slowed to about 20 mph and I was preparing to stop when the young girl waved us through. Jean wondered why we didn’t have to stop, and I said “Just look at us. We’re a 60 plus year old couple with bikes on the back and Christmas presents sticking up all over the place. What could we possibly be trying to sneak into the United States?”

A short note on the knee recovery…it’s not happening! It’s no better and may be just a shade worse after helping some people move on Saturday morning, touring new home models on Saturday afternoon, a four plus mile walk Sunday partly through trails, and a 13 mile bike ride today. Maybe I can rub some Tequila on it to numb the pain.

Just (Maybe Not Even Able To Walk The Rock-And-Roll Half Marathon) Jack

PS – The weather here is relentless. Day after day of sun, no clouds, and 70 degrees. You would think we’d be sick of it by now. We aren’t. We feel sorry for all of you enduring crappy weather. But remember, you were all kind enough to tell me how good the weather was on spring break, knowing that I hadn’t had a 1/1 to 4/15 vacation since 1972.