It's
been the craziest, busiest summer ever for Emily and me. After
several (I lost count) conventions, and both of us slammed with writer
biz, we needed a break, a real vacation. Our nephew Miles, flying in
for some post-high school graduation, writer mentoring, and bookstore
crawling seemed what we needed.
The
monsoon, with humidity and unpredictable downpours, arrived at the
same time.
At
the airport, a woman's T-shirt caused a Disney-style cartoon version
of Minnie the Moocher--complete with opium pipes--to spontaneously play in my
head. A young man's shirt simply said NARCOTICS. And a mysterious
security bell kept ringing.
This
was early in the morning, so we took off to Prescott, where we had
breakfast at the Lone Spur Cafe. Buffalo and elk heads, cowboy art
and artifacts, and a photo of Calamity Jane watched over us.
Later,
in an antique shop, Minnie the Moocher—the
original, Cab Calloway version—played.
At
the Peregrine Book Company, I found a paperback reprint of a Buffalo
Bill dime novel, and books by Ishmael Reed and Harlan Ellison. After
dinner at El Charro Restaurant, we had to drive through heavy rain,
thunder and lightning to the motel, where the wi-fi sucked, but
somehow, I managed to post Calamity on Twitter and Facebook.
Next
morning we got breakfast at the Dinner Bell Cafe. Emily was so
impressed she bought the T-shirt. I liked the Divorciado Omelette.
Miles liked their chicken fried steak.
Then
we crawled through two thrift stores, and a bookstore. Grabbed Walt
Kelly's The Pogo Stepmother
Goose, William Eastlake's
Castle Keep, among
other goodies.
The
next morning Miles and I checked out writing markets online. Then we
cruised some Goodwills—a lot of lost treasures end up there, the
last stop before the landfill (I found Samuel R. Delaney's Hogg,
LeRoi Jones' Home: Social Essays,
and Ronald J. Wimmer's Extraterrestrial Organology: The
Study of Future Wind Insturments) -- and some local bookstores, including Bookmans, where I found Max
Evans' Bluefeather Fellini in the Sacred Realm.
We
had dinner at Phoenix's hot spot for recombocultural cuisine, Chino
Bandido. If they ever expand into a nationwide chain they will need to
have a comic book, like Bob's Big Boy.
Next
day we had breakfast at Kiss the Cook, in Glendale, Arizona. I
recommend the New Orleans Cajun Omlette.
Then,
one of our tires went flat. Luckly, AAA saved the day.
We
still managed to get to some more thrift stores, bookstore shopping, and
burgers at Moe's, through the alternating monsoon blazing sun and
rainy clouds before putting Miles back on his plane to California.
Hopefully, our wisdom as professional writers will help him. At the
very least, he had a good time.
