Tucson

During the planning (what little planning there was) stages of this trip I expected to spend a week or more in Tucson. I thought I would contact several friends from my college years. Explore the cost of real estate and the possibility of moving home. I thought I could settle in a central location, bike and bus about.

I wrote some e-mails and called some numbers. The only response came from my oldest friends in all the world, Ron and Gene Ryan. They lived across the street, as Gene noted, when we were riding tricycles. Gene wrote right back and I headed there. I had no idea that the city was overflowing with gems, jewels and minerals.

The first indication was evident when I tried to find an economical and convenient RV Park. None of them centrally located had openings. I booked into Crazy Horse RV Park where Craycroft meets I-10. You can’t go much further south and still be in Tucson.

As I connected up my power and water I noticed a divot spooned out of the side wall of the right rear tire. A day later when I made it to a truck tire store, I would learn that the tires on the RV were 14 years old. They recommend putting new ones on every 7 years. It was not really a surprise to me that I needed tires. I thought they were 9 years old.

The first night in Tucson Ron, Gene and Gene’s wife Jan picked me up and we ate at Pinnacle Peak. It’s a famous western steak house. Besides the reputation of serving a good steak it is also famous for the antic of neck tie cutting. I had heard about it. When a fellow shows up wearing a tie a production takes place resulting in the neck tie being swiftly severed with a sharp pair of scissors. Thousands hang from the rustic rafters.

My friends explained how the gem and jewelry show is the largest event of the year. It is the largest such event in the world. It draws sellers and traders of gems and jewelry from everywhere in the world. It began as a display in the civic center some years ago and has grown to the extent that every event site, every hotel lobby and conference site is occupied by dealers. Circus sized tents are pitched all along the venue. There are registered sellers and registered buyers. And the public flows in and out, as well, purchasing gifts and adornments. There are fossils and minerals of all sorts.

Ron worked first for the Pima County sheriff’s Department. Then for the county DA as an investigator. Between the two jobs he put in a half a century of work in law enforcement. Gene had been an iron worker and then for the labor union. Both were retired after long employment. Jan was as pleasant and responsive as ever. I enjoy her humor and, of course, we couldn’t resist the puns and bear jokes when we ate brunch at the Black Bear Dinner the following day.

I met Ron’s wife, Sherry, at brunch. She and Ron met working in the DA office. She is a talented artist. She drew and sculpted victims and suspects of crimes. All four were a pleasure to learn from. I read the Tucson news paper more than any other. Their knowledge of city and county politics gave me a whole new perspective. Serious matters humorous presentation.

I arrived at the tire store as it opened at 7:30. A quick look at the damaged tire and all the others and the manager explained that all should be replaced. It was close to noon when the new ones were all on.

I was humming along headed into the Benson valley on I-10 when a RV started to pull even with me. Kwack! I heard a loud sound. The RV backed off. I looked in the mirror. A sheet of siding off the side of my RV was flapping in the wind.

 

I flipped the right turn signal on. There was Pomerene Road exit in view. A light SUV came by pointing for me to pull over. I did pull over to the edge. Traffic kept zooming by. As I walked around the damaged side of the RV, a paunchy balding gray haired man came steaming at me from the RV parked behind.

“WHAT THE F*#@#&^@&&###!!!!!!!!! PAID A MILLION DOLLARS FOR THAT BRAND NEW . . .WHAT THE##*@^*#@&*!!!!! LETS SEE YOUR DIVERS LICENSE! I WANT TO SEE YOUR DRIVERS LICENSE! THAT’S A QUARTER MILLION DOLLARS I JUST SPENT ON THIS MOTOR HOME. WHAT THE #^@*&##**^!!!

He came within a foot of me screaming, I want to see your license. Give me your license. I assured him we would get to exchange all that information. “Watch what I’ll share you…” one of three others reached around him and pulled him away.

The two in the SUV and the two in the motor home all knew each other. We milled around in the twenty or more minutes that it took the Highway Patrol to come. One of them had a clipboard with his license and other documents pinned to it. I asked him how he’d like to have my problem. He shook his head.

A quarter of a million dollar Grand Tour Winnebego.

When the patrolman came I handed him the three items needed. He looked over the side of the motor home and told the Quarter Million man. If there is not over $2000 of damage you might not want to submit an accident or event report because it will follow the vehicle as a car fax record. We both had Progressive as an insurance company so he elected not to have the event officially reported.

Then as the Patrolman began to sort out the event he found that the driver was not the Quarter Million man. It was a driver from La Mesa RV. He was delivering the motor home for the man who had not signed for it yet and did not own it. The other two who rode in the SUV also worked for La Mesa and were following in order to return the driver with them after the delivery in New Mexico. So it turned out that the Quarter Million man did not have anything to do with the event except to wait a little longer for delivery.

I caught the Quarter Million man shaking his hand, holding his right in both of mine.I told him, “I am terribly sorry. I know you are very upset and disappointed.” He stated he shouldn’t have been so angry and moved away as soon as I released his hand.

The Patrolman was extremely nice. He turned on the flashing lights and led me to the parking lot of an auto body repair shop.