Memorial Day

I wasn’t going to do a Memorial Day post this year, until I came across this video from Juan Browne.  I’ve been following Juan’s YouTube channel for a few months as he’s been doing great reporting on the Oroville Dam situation (he lives nearby).  His unbiased reporting and digging for facts is impressive.  He is a pilot and Air Force veteran.  Today posted this moving video as his Memorial Day tribute.

I’ve been trying to write something new about Memorial Day, but I my mind just won’t move past this poem I wrote a few years ago.  It’s been posted before here before, but today I feel the need to repeat it.

Twenty-one Guns

The tour bus rumbles past
the quiet monuments to the fallen.
Shutters click as the tour guide
speaks the litany of the shrine,
that once was the Lee estate.
Now it is that hallowed ground
where solders come for that long rest.

The Quick rumble passed the carved stones
of the Dead, that once placed
boots of war on their feet.
Their soles now silent.
Now day-trippers take aim and fire.
Cameras, not rifles.
Pictures, not prisoners taken.

The bus stops. The microphone is silent.
To the left a horse pulls a caisson carrying a flag-draped box
That contains a name who once walked.
The warrior sent at our command.
The sightseer sees and falls silent
And hears the echo of guns.
Three volleys and then the mournful notes.

Boys became men
And men became names
And names became graves
Gone is the sun,
Day is done.
God is Nigh.

 

Now it’s time to go out in front of the house and rise the flag to half mast.

May peace finds us all.

Andrew

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AAA and Tow Truck that Wouldn’t

Here is the next installment of our road trip adventures.  If you’re keeping score, there are two more posts after this on our adventure.  This post starts on Thursday of the week-long trip after a sleepless night at “the-hotel-which-shall-not-be-named.”


By 5:00 am the antics of the people in the next room finally drove us to get up, pack, and leave.  On my way out I stopped at the front desk to yell at the night manager.  I got a weak, “we’re sorry,” and look of fear that I might jump over the counter to explain things more personally.  Instead, I left the key cards on the counter and slammed as many doors as I could on my way out.

Well, the only door between me and the car was an automatic one, so the whole slam the door thing wasn’t as childishly satisfying as it could have been.

We didn’t eat at the hotel and decided that we’d just get something at the Starbucks across the street.  After a bit to eat and gassing up the car it was time to turn west again as the day’s destination was Monument Valley and The View Hotel.

Seriously, the hotel is called, “The View Hotel,” because of its great view of Monument Valley…

I had also arranged with a local guide company to get a jeep tour of the valley with a Navajo guide on Friday.  This would the be the highlight of the trip and what I was really looking forward to.

On our way, we decided to stop at Canyon de Chelly.  My mother had taken me there and I wanted to show Heather the spectacular sights there.  Unless you’ve been there, you’ve likely just mispronounced the name.  It’s one of those fancy French words and is really pronounced, “de Shay.”   I think it’s spelled and pronounced like this as a way to tell who’s been there and who hasn’t.

Canyon de Chelly from the rim road.

We left I-40 at Gallup New Mexico and headed into the Navajo Nation and onto roads more reminiscent of Route 66 back when mother and I traveled here.  We arrived at the visitor center just at lunch time and had picnic lunch before heading up the road around the canyon rim.

It was at the first overlook where the trouble started – the battery light on dash-board came on, but the car didn’t stall or show any signs of a problem.  We continued our journey to other overlooks, thinking that likely it might be a false warning, or something easily fixed.  The views of the canyon were amazing and I told Heather all about the day my mother brought me here.

The canyon, is owned by the Navajo Nation, and also listed as a National Monument.  The National Park Service and the Navajo Tribal Trust jointly manage the monument.  Visitors can hike and drive the rim roads, but access to the canyon is restricted.  Tours of the canyon are available from private Navajo-owned companies.  My mother and I did one of those tours back in ’72 and it was great.  I don’t remember too many details of that tour other than I loved it.

By the time Heather and I got back to the visitor center I was getting worried that the battery light might be a real problem so we stopped and asked if there was car repair shop in the area.  Turns out there was one in Chinle, the town at the entrance to the Monument, and after stopping once more for directions, we found it.

Our Element, we named her, Sierra.

It was at this point that I discovered that in this part of the world, most folks drive Ford or GMC trucks and SUVs and I likely had the only Honda Element in the whole state.  Well, at least within say 150 miles.  I found out later that the only Honda dealer was in Flag Staff, some 170 miles away.

The man there was sympathetic, but very clear that he didn’t stock Honda parts or service them regularly and best he could do is a little testing and suggest I go back to Gallup.  After doing a few basic tests he said I had a bad battery and if I could find one that should fix the problem.  Since it was a battery problem, the theory was that as long as I didn’t turn off the engine again, I could get anywhere. This made sense to me as the battery was five years old and I had taken the car in for a full service check the week before.

So, being fully armed with cell phones and google maps, Heather and I started searching and calling.  It didn’t take long and I found an auto parts store in Gallup that had battery for my car in stock and had a person on duty who could replace it.  It was then 91 miles back the way we came and into the parking lot of the parts store.

It didn’t take them long to replace, and after braving a meal at the local Taco Bell, we were on our way back to The View Hotel and our Friday tour.

Just as dusk hit we’d were just outside of Chinle again and I decided to turn on the headlights A few minutes later the battery light came back on.  Then a few minutes later, the instrument panel went nuts, just before the engine started miss firing and the headlights dimmed.  Lucky for us this happened right near to a gas station and I was able to glide the car into a parking place.

It’s was then that I realized that it likely wasn’t the battery, but the alternator and I had just driven the last 91 miles on the charge in the battery.  It was also at this moment that I knew that we’d just blown our hotel reservations and we weren’t going to get our Monument Valley tour.

I was a bit shattered at that moment, but Heather knew that we were done and suggested we see if there was a motel nearby.  A few clicks on the cell phone and Heather found one.  It was just a couple of miles away and I turned the key to see if there was any chance of driving that far.  To my surprise, the car started and the battery light stay off.  Not sure what happened, but the car managed just enough battery to get us to the Best Western.

It was in the motel room when I cried for the loss of the tour and my failure with the car.  Looking back at the day’s events, I should have taken the car to a service center in Gallup and had someone test the charging system.  Sigh, well, it could have been worse – at least we were safe in a clean motel.

In the morning we set about the task of getting the car fixed.  I had my laptop computer with me so I got on that and started some searches.  First I called the Honda dealer in Flagstaff. The service tech confirmed that the most likely problem was a bad alternator. Turns out that on the Honda Element the battery warning light means the battery isn’t being charge.  The car would need to be towed in.

The next call was to AAA to arrange for towing.  I was hoping to get to Flagstaff so the dealer could fix it.  AAA proved to be a major disappointment.  I finally got an operator on-line for Arizona, and was informed that my plan would only cover the first five miles and after that it would be $8.00 per mile, or to get to Flagstaff the price of a used car.  I was then told that if were a member of the Arizona AAA, they’d let me upgrade to unlimited miles and wave the normal 48 hour waiting period and tow me right then.  Cool I thought and as the Arizona operator repeatedly reminded me, I’ve been a member for 26 years, they’ll take care of me.

Next problem was that I am a member of the California AAA, not Arizona, so they have to call California and ask if they’d do that for me.  After being on hold for a very long time, I was told that only a supervisor could do that, and I’d have to hold for one.  After 30 minutes of waiting, the line went dead as they cut me off.

While I was on hold, Heather mentioned that she thought we had a towing plan with our car insurance from State Farm.  She got on her phone and confirmed this with our agent back home and got the phone number to call for service.  The only problem was that they’d only tow the nearest service center, which the State Farm lady informed me was in Gallup, not Flagstaff.

After a fifteen minute phone call, State Farm was sending a tow truck to get us to Gallup and all fully covered under our insurance plan.  Over breakfast Heather and I repeatedly asked why we had AAA.  In al the 26 years I’ve had it, I’ve gotten a few maps, had a battery replaced, and once got a jump-start.  Then, in the mist of my real need they hang up on me and basically were unable or unwilling to help.

AAA lost my business in Chinle, on a Friday morning in the desert.

Till next week and the tale of the Hopi tow truck.

Andrew

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Friday Wisdom – Worms

When you open a can of worms, the only way to re-can them is to use a larger can.

More wisdom next week,

Andrew

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Farmington to Santa Fe

After changing our travel plans, Heather and I left Holbrook and headed out for Albuquerque, instead of Taos.  First stop was in Old Town for a bit of a walk around and to find a place for lunch.  Monica’s El Portal Restaurant was the lunch stop where we got to taste sopapillas for the first time.  A sopapilla is a kind of fried, light pastry served with honey that the New Mexicans love.  You can get them at all New Mexican restaurants it seems.

I should warn you about the red sauce.  It’s not so much an enchilada sauce as it is liquid fire.  I like mild to medium heat on my enchiladas and most red chili sauce here at home is wimpy, but there – well, I still sweat when I think of it.

From lunch we walked over to the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History, and spent a wonderful afternoon exploring the exhibits.  This is an outstanding museum.  I love their exhibit, “Hollywood Southwest: New Mexico in Film & Television.”  It’s amazing how many of the movies I like were filmed in New Mexico.  The other exhibits were just as good and I could have spent more time there, but by tea time, my legs were complaining and it was off to the hotel.

I shall refer to the hotel as, “The Hotel Which Shall Not Be Named,” as we came to know as a place of discomfort, disquiet, and disrepute.  The room doors slammed closed with the loud crash of steel prison cell doors slamming shut and being locked by the guards.  The A/C unit had two settings, off and jet engine.  Hallway conversations were clearly heard in our room, and the arguments, TV, shower, comings and goings at all hours in the room next door was clearly heard by us.  Sleep was not something we got a lot of here.

Don’t get me started on the hotel restaurant – worst service in New Mexico.  A person could starve to death waiting for a meal there.  I did lodge a complaint with the staff on-site, via email to hotel management, to the customer service people of the hotel chain, and a few acid worded reviews on travel review sites.

What I received in return was: emotional satisfaction from the negative reviews I posted.  Neither the hotel or the customer service people made any effort to address the issues.

Our second day in Albuquerque, after a disappointing breakfast at the hotel, we headed up the road to Santa Fe.  What a wonderful place.  We loved it – especially the art.  We went into a few of the galleries and spent a long time looking at everything.  At one place we found a very nice ring for Heather and I finally found a great new hiking hat.  I have trouble finding hats that fit me because of my large head size.

Great now, I know what kind of comments this post will generate.

Lunch was at this place with low doors, crowds, slow service, and liquid fire.  Heather was smart and ordered green sauce on the side.  Me, not so smart as I just let them pour the red sauce on and three bites later I was sweating and breathing fire.

After lunch we walked around the Plaza and did a couple more shops, plus we walked by the artists stalls.  There is one sidewalk next to the plaza where native artists set up their wares for sale and there is an amazing amount of jewelry and other art made by these artists.

About halfway down the row of artists, my eye fell on a highly polished brass bracelet.  From a distance I could see a pattern and thought that it might look good on Heather.  She had seen it too, so we stopped for a closer look.  Once I’d gotten close enough to see it, I knew I wanted to get it for Heather, but didn’t say anything right away as I wanted to see if Heather had any interest.

The man knew both how to make fine art and how to sell it.  Clearly he sensed our interest in the piece and started in on what I assume was his standard sales pitch describing how he made it with metal stamps and polishers plus adding how long it took him to make.  At some point Heather asked where he was from and set him down another path of stories.  Turns out he was from Farmington, New Mexico, about a four-hour drive away.

It was a cold day in Santa Fe and likely we were likely his only sales prospect of the day and he was shoveling fast to make the sale.  At one point he offered to put it on Heather and when she accepted, we all knew he’d made a sale.  My mind started thinking about how much I’d pay for the bracelet and to my surprise our man said, “$40.”  My hand flew into my pocket as I was expecting double that.

My guess is that the $40 was either gas home or a few beers as consolation for a bad sales day.

Either way, we both walked a bit happier – us with a treasure and him with cash.

After that we walked up the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi and toured the church. Being the middle of a weekday afternoon, the building was open and docent was on duty to answer questions.  The architecture is wonderful and beautiful.

After this, it was back to the car and off to the, “The Hotel Which Shall Not Be Named,” for a sleepless night and a quick get away at 6:00 am the next morning, just after I had a bit of a hissy fit with the front desk staff.

The new day would bring a new adventure, but you’ll have to wait till next week for that.

Till next week,

Andrew

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