Category Archives: Life in Arizona

Bob the Albertson’s Comedy Cashier

Bob the Albertson’s Comedy Cashier

Once again, I found myself at the grocery store, buying stuff for dinner. The Nordic Warrior Queen wanted au gratin potatoes, and the Sister Wife was out of beer. Again. I decided to boycott Whole Foods. Any store that makes such a big deal over a stupid block of pasteurized processed cheese food doesn’t deserve my business. Besides, Albertsons is closer. They’re just across the street, right next to BJ’s, and the CVS Pharmacy with the broken blood pressure machine. …Read the Rest

Shopping for Velveeta

Shopping for Velveeta

The Nordic Warrior Queen asked me to stop at the grocery store on my way home. She wanted pork chops, milk and bread, and a head of broccoli. Oh, and get some beer for Debbie, please. I hate pork chops and broccoli. I planned to tell her they were out of chops and get some brisket instead. And since the Ubercat insists on sitting under the table during dinner, I would feed her my portion of broccoli. It’s good for …Read the Rest

Sour Patch Kids and Broken Teeth

Sour Patch Kids and Broken Teeth

I’m not a big candy lover. I admit to a fondness for Butterfingers, and the occasional bag of peanut M&Ms, but I watch my weight. It mostly just goes up. My weakness is Sour Patch Kids. I keep a jar of them in my office. The Nordic Warrior Queen always eats the red ones. Whenever she comes upstairs, I hear her behind me, unscrewing the metal lid. That’s the only way I know she’s back there. She’s sneaky like that. …Read the Rest

Seashell Mice and Extended Warranties

Seashell Mice and Extended Warranties

I told the Nordic Warrior Queen I had to leave early. I was headed to Salt Lake City, to work with those cheerless Mormons and the people who make fun of them, and I needed a new mouse. She was skeptical. “Didn’t you buy a new mouse last week?” I told her I must have misplaced the last one. It happens. “They’re only fifteen bucks.” Geez. “Everything adds up.” She was feeling frugal today. I stopped at Best Buy (it’s …Read the Rest

The Unfairness of Sam Champion

The Unfairness of Sam Champion

Sam Champion, the weatherman on ABC, must be colorblind. That, or he simply doesn’t care about his viewers. Why does Midland, Texas, with a paltry 102 degrees, deserve to be colored deep red on the Good Morning America weather map, when Arizona, with its 111+ temps for weeks on end, is only pink? All summer long, we’ve suffered the same mistreatment. There he stands, going on and on and on about the heat wave in the Midwest—the blistering temps, the drought …Read the Rest

The Computer Problem

The Computer Problem

I was in the middle of a very important email when I suddenly discovered that my computer was broken. I was writing to President Obama, to ask him to do something to stop the TV stations from running ads for vaginal creams and laxatives at dinner time. Those commercials just bug the crap out of me. I’ll be sitting there at the dinner table, chewing a mouthful of creamed corn or munching a grilled cheese sandwich, and the next thing I know, …Read the Rest

Waiting at the Sonic

Waiting at the Sonic

The Nordic Warrior Queen and I took a drive to Tucson the other day to visit family: my son the Rocket Scientist, Cassie and her toothless dog, the two boys. We hadn’t seen them for a while; Cassie’s getting big as a house with Baby Logan, and Jake needed help putting together the crib. I wanted to get some work done on the computer, so I let her drive, even though that meant two hours of country-western: Sugarland, The Wreckers, …Read the Rest

Bathtime for Bella

Bathtime for Bella

Since the Sister Wives left me, I’ve had to fend for myself. While they’re off visiting relatives in Minnesota—people who unselfconsciously say words like uff-da and puh-tay-toe, and who consider Leinenkugel beer a food group—I’ve had to do my own laundry and wash my own dishes. I draw the line, however, at dusting and vacuuming. The dirt can wait. And since the Nordic Warrior Queen frowns on too frequent patronage of the fine dining establishments across the street, I’ve had …Read the Rest

At the Pharmacy

At the Pharmacy

The Sister Wives went shopping at the local CVS pharmacy last Tuesday. Debbie needed some Neosporin for her new cat tattoo—she calls it her “little pussy”—and the Nordic Warrior Queen had to get a prescription refilled. Since the pharmacy is just down the street from the Sandbar, my wife told her sister that, yes, they could stop for Happy Hour on the way home; she hoped that the promise of beer would keep Debbie calm while shopping. So while Diane …Read the Rest

Sunflower

Sunflower

Like most boys, I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter. Who wouldn’t? All that gear: the shiny metal axes, clanking oxygen tanks, rubber boots and yellow helmets and facemasks made of high-temperature thermoplastic. And never mind the pumper trucks with their shrieking sirens, the water gushing from high-pressure hoses, vehicles so huge they take two burly men to drive. Wow. Over the years I’ve started some fires (it was an accident), and I’ve burned away most of my facial hair …Read the Rest

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