Category Archives: Life in Arizona

Topping it All Off

Topping it All Off

The Nordic Warrior Queen is getting up in age and has started to feel the aches and pains of her approaching fifties. Her neck and back hurts, and she blames the bed. I told her she just needs to get her feet up in the air more often but she’s not buying it. So after much discussion, we decided to get a new mattress (to see where the old one went, read “Chasing the Sonata”). First off, I think the …Read the Rest

Top Gun, Part II

Top Gun, Part II

I took the Nighthawk out into the desert, well away from the sneering grin of The Stallion and his covey of fellow grocery handlers. I practiced mornings, nights, and weekends. The Nighthawk was a little hard to handle at first, but I kept her close to the ground, her mighty engines throttled back enough such that any mishaps would not be fatal ones. Within weeks, I was ready to face The Stallion and his smug, condescending tone. I unveiled the …Read the Rest

Top Gun, Part I

Top Gun, Part I

There’s a field not far from my house where a bunch of guys fly model airplanes: Corsairs and Messerschmitts, Fokkers and Sopwith Camel biplanes, neat Piper Cubs, sleek F16s and huge lumbering B17 Flying Fortresses. There’s even a miniature Huey UH-1A helicopter, complete with a door gun. All day long you can hear the drone, rattle, and buzz of them out there, along with the excited hoots and hollers of their owners. Don’t these guys work? So I walked over …Read the Rest

The Garden Hose

The Garden Hose

Yesterday the Nordic Warrior Queen tasked me with cleaning the patio. Saturday is chore day and all that. No big deal really, except there was bird crap everywhere – it looked like a family of diarrhea-stricken quail had taken up residence out there. The walls and floor were graffitied in myriad colors of guano, and there were enough feathers floating about to make a down comforter. There wasn’t a broom or mop in the world big enough for this job. …Read the Rest

Cheaters

Cheaters

It was just after four o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon. The mailman must have come by now. I was expecting a check for one of my boring magazine articles, and with any luck the Victoria Secret catalog would be there as well. I slipped on my TEVAs – I call them my Jesus shoes – and opened the front door, stepping out into 115 degrees and blinding Arizona sunlight. Halfway to the mailbox, I realized I’d forgotten my sunglasses. Worse, …Read the Rest

Shrinking Rolls

Shrinking Rolls

Boy, the Nordic Warrior Queen was really steamed this morning. It wasn’t thirty seconds after the toilet flushed that she rocketed out of the bathroom, waving the remnants of a toilet paper roll in my face. I assumed I’d put the roll on backwards again. “What the hell is this?” she hollered. Of course I defended myself. “What? I put it on the way you told me.” “That’s not it.” Cautious now, I asked the worst. “I used the last …Read the Rest

Becca’s Shower

Becca’s Shower

The Nordic Warrior Queen dragged me to our friend Becca’s baby shower last weekend. I don’t really like baby showers – I feel bad for those humongous women, as if I’m somehow to blame. And all those silly games – “Guess the size of the mother’s tummy” or “How many baby items can you name,” and even, “Pin the sperm on the egg.” The mysterious rites of passage for an expectant mother are too difficult for a simple male to wrap his head …Read the Rest

Big Haboobs

Big Haboobs

The weatherman on the local news is practically peeing himself with excitement. Tonight was our second haboob of the season. Who can blame him? After all, when the weather forecast gets reused for months on end (hot and dry), it’s sure to be a boring job. Who needs four years of college to be a meteorologist in Arizona? In meteorological terms, a haboob is caused by the downdraft which forms at the outer edge of a thunderstorm. They look sort …Read the Rest

Thank You, Hector

Thank You, Hector

So I couldn’t wait. I replaced that Chinese piece of crap with a new toilet handle from Home Depot. But it didn’t work. And for the past week, the Nordic Warrior Queen has been getting wet-bottomed at all hours of the night. And I’m to blame, all because I tried to fix it. I had no choice. Yesterday I called the front office and asked to speak to the Mexican guy who fixed my toilet last week. There was a …Read the Rest

Husky Jeans

Husky Jeans

The Nordic Warrior Queen said I’m getting…well, a little husky. What? “I didn’t say you were fat, dear.” Sure she didn’t. I know what it means. When I was a kid, there were three types of Wrangler jeans – Slim, Regular, and Husky. All the fat kids wore the ones labeled Husky, including Scotty Wilson, who was regularly hung from the jungle gym by his underwear at recess. I can still remember the sound of the elastic tearing, and the …Read the Rest

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