Cultural Extremes

What a town! We are busily cramming as much into our final days as possible. Here's a peek into the past 24 hours. Talk about extremes.

On Thursday night we went to the Broadway in Tucson production of "Fiddler on the Roof." Theodore Bikel, age 85 btw, reprising his role as Tevye for the 2000th time, played to a full house in the huge Tucson Music Hall venue. It was a spectacular production. The first time I saw "Fiddler" on stage was in the summer of 1968 in London during my European trip with my college roommate Gayle. At age 20 I was wowed by the show. The story line of children bucking tradition and choosing their mates over their parents' objections really resonated with me. I also remember how far away from my family I felt and how choked up I was during the scene where all the families lit the Sabbath candles and when Hodel traveled alone to Siberia, leaving her parents, to follow her heart to her husband. "Sunrise, Sunset" made me realize how quickly the years had gone by. I felt so old, a grown-up traveling to Europe on my own, going to the theater in London...

Flash forward 42 years and let's take a look at the show from my perspective as a 62-year -old. Oy. Shall we begin with Tevye and Golde, the "old" mama and papa? The 25-year marriage they sing about ("Do You Love Me?")doesn't begin to rank against Michael's and my impending 40th wedding anniversary. Yikes! I'm older than Golde...by far. And I can't even talk about the "Sunrise, Sunset" wedding canopy scenario without grabbing for the tissues. My baby is married. Double oy. I can't count the number of productions of Fiddler I've attended. I think Edgewood and HPHS must've performed it 3 or 4 times during my tenure there. In any case, this is a show that holds up so well and has messages for those of all ages. I see it through new eyes each time and I never tire of it.

Taking a full 180 degree turn on Friday, we headed to the Tucson Rodeo, La Fiesta de los Vaqueros. Yeehaw! This is such a big event in town that the schools are closed for 2 days for Rodeo Break. Really. The local meteorologist on TV sported a bolo tie all week. The rodeo grounds were teeming with people, kids and adults, decked out in Western wear. Tall Stetsons in every color were perched on heads of all sizes from toddlers to grannies; people donned pony skin fringed vests; pointed cowboy boots; belts with giant buckles, bandanas; pouchy cowskin purses; lots of turquoise and silver. Excitement buzzed in the air. We crowded into the bleachers to root for the cowboys who rode bareback on bucking broncos. We cheered for the cowgirls who galloped like the wind on beautiful horses around barrels. We gasped as the cowboys roped steer and hogtied them. We cringed when angry bulls tossed riders from their backs and then dashed toward them to gore them with their horns. We chuckled at the rodeo clowns in their baggy pants and appreciated how they came to the aid of cowboys who had been bucked and lay sprawled in the dust. We were as one with the crowd who cheered lustily at these feats. In fact, I kinda wished I were wearing a cowboy hat instead of my sunhat. I ogled the stenciled boots... Maybe next year.I bought some fudge to console myself. Mmm hmmm. Fudge fixes most everything.

That evening we dined at Wildflower, a lovely upscale restaurant for which the kids had given us a gift card. We intentionally saved this gastronomic treat for the end of our stay here. We needed something positive to look forward to. It did not disappoint. Seated outside on the patio, I began with a frou-frou drink in a martini glass. Yes, it was pink. And delicious. Belvedere vodka, Grand Marnier, lemon juice and fresh raspberries. Yum! We shared mesquite-grilled artichokes (got the recipe from the waiter. So good!) with an aioli dip; and crispy calamari on a bed of arugula. I had an amazing scallop dinner with lemongrass, 'forbidden rice', and snap peas. Yum! Michael had maple braised short ribs and horseradish potatoes. Also Yum! For dessert we had a spectacular key lime tart with chantilly cream, blackberry puree and blackberry sorbet. Fabulous! Delicious outdoor dining. In February. Yes.

And this is how things are in Tucson, the Old Pueblo. It offers a little of everything, wrapped in a sunshiny vibe. We can't wait to come back for more.

The Kindness of Strangers

Several events this past week struck a resonant chord with me. We were in Sedona and Jerome on Thursday and Friday. We lucked out with picture perfect weather, and the scenery was just like those spectacular photos in the guide books; red rocks soared into bright blue skies, each formation more miraculous than the one before. We splurged and stayed at a chi-chi B & B, Canyon Villa. The views from the inn were unsurpassed. Les, our host, put us in touch with a private guide, Mike. Our tour and hike with him was the highlight of our visit. For far less money than the famous Pink Jeep Tours, we piled into Mike's SUV for a backroads trip that rattled the fillings in our teeth, but brought us to a secluded offroad hike where we were the only people in sight for several hours. I'm struggling to find the words to describe our hike. Breathtaking, spiritual, awe-inspiring come to mind. We were near a vortex (Schnebley's Peak?) and it was a serene view. Mike was brimming with information (did you know that Mr. Schnebley was looking to name the town and his suggestions were too long, so he decided to name it after his wife, Sedona?!) Mike's outright adoration of his town and surroundings was evident in all of the details he shared with us. It made the experience that much more meaningful. Was our hike even more thrilling because Mike was strikingly good-looking!? Um, maybe. Our 2-day excursion to magical Sedona was delicious.


The following day we were shopping in Jerome, a funky, artsy mining town with shops nestled into several layers of Mingus Mountain. (Don't you love that name?) Switchback streets, awesome views. Such fun! The galleries and jewelry shops were first-rate, and you know me; I'm happy to stimulate the economy wherever I go. In a pottery gallery/studio we ran into a couple around our age who had an interesting story to share. The man and his current wife told us that they had met while they were receiving chemotherapy and radiation. He had prostate cancer and she had breast cancer. They fell in love and got married 7 years ago in Jerome. The day before their wedding they were browsing in this pottery gallery and happened upon a ceramic bowl that they adored. Because they were combining their households and had so many expenses, they decided against the purchase. The artist had overheard them talking. She approached them. "I hear tomorrow is your wedding day. I want you to have this bowl as a wedding gift from me." She didn't even know the story of their illnesses; she just wanted them to have the bowl they had admired and, over their protests, she insisted that they accept it. Now here they were, 7 years later, returning to the gallery to commission a large-scale piece of art for their home. It's good karma, folks.

Back in Tucson, we found ourselves at Sabino Canyon, preparing for a hike. We have been hiking the canyon regularly since our arrival in January. We have taken each set of visitors on a hike there. It's close (10 minutes!), convenient, and gorgeous, offering spectacular views within moments of beginning on any of the many trails there. This particular day, yesterday in fact, we decided to take our longest hike yet. Our friends Ron and Jane, seasoned hikers, were with us and we had perfect cool, crisp, sunny weather. Michael had been eagerly anticipating this lengthy hike on a trail called the Phoneline. (Named because it is way up high where a phoneline would be? Dunno. Sounds good, though, doesn't it?) You take the tram up to the last stop, a point near the top of the canyon. Then you hike up half a mile further to the trailhead before hiking back down to the visitor's center. It's roughly a 4.5 mile hike. We set out from the last tram stop and began the upward climb. We were so high up after about fifteen minutes that the people below looked like ants, and they were at the highest point on the road! We felt as though we were miles high. It was so exhilirating! After a few miles we stopped for a picnic lunch. PBJ sandwiches tasted like haute cuisine. We continued our descent and encountered several hikers who told us that when we got down to the bridge at tram stop #1 we'd have to remove our shoes and socks, roll up our pants and wade through the knee-deep rushing water that flooded the bridge to get to the main trail back to the entrance. The only way back to the entrance was to cross the creek. No problem. Michael and I had done that earlier in the season. The creek is fuller than usual because of the many inches of accumulated rain and snowmelt from the higher elevations. We commented that we actually looked forward to wading in the icy water because our feet were achy from the downward hike.

As we continued our descent we found a trail marker that pointed the way to the trail that would take us to tram stop #1. I was particularly thrilled to learn that the end was in sight because my knees had started to ache from the sharp downward slope of the trail. It wasn't easy. I announced that I planned to take the tram back to the visitor's center. The rest of our group planned to hike the remaining mile back from the tram stop. We followed the signs, but somehow ended up down near the creek on a sandy bank with no trail leading out. Oh, well. We turned around and backtracked up the trail, choosing a different route when we reached the marker. After schlepping along for another half hour or so, we found ourselves back down near the creek with no crossing in sight. The trail seemed to disappear, leaving us slogging through the sand. We could see the main road, a paved road opposite the creek, high above us, peopled with hikers, joggers, moms pushing strollers...civilization(!) ... but we couldn't figure out how to get there. After some discussion, Ron shed his shoes and socks, rolled up his pants, and attempted a crossing. The water reached his mid-thighs and was flowing too swiftly for us to risk it. We were stuck. I was exhausted, having clearly overextended my stamina level at least a mile before. We were frustrated. (If these are the times that try men's souls, my soul had left the building.) The men felt responsible for finding a way out, but there wasn't an obvious solution short of backtracking all the way back to the original trail marker and trying to figure out where we had gone wrong. That was an unappealing proposition. We had started at 11:15. It was now 4:00. This was not our game plan. The guys made manly noises and offered up suggestions. Jane remained positive and optimistic, at least on the outside. I was super whiny, inside and out. (I know; you're shocked. Would you like some cheese with that whine?)

It was so crazy. We could see our goal, the main road, but the river presented an insurmountable obstacle. I'm sure there's a metaphor lurking there, but I haven't figured it out yet.

As Michael prepared to call the visitors center for help (yay! iPhone reception everywhere! but how could we explain where we were when we couldn't find it on the trail map?) Jane turned around to see a man hiking alone just behind us. She ran toward him, waving frantically, and he came off the trail (which was out of our view) to speak with us. We explained our situation and he smiled and said that we just had to follow the trail he had been on and it would take us to the dam and then on back to the visitors center. We were looking at perhaps 1.5 miles more. Jane told him that he was our saviour...and he smiled again. "That's so interesting. I just said a prayer before I rounded the corner of the trail," he told us. Cue the "Twilight Zone" music.

We hiked toward where he had pointed and found ourselves on more familiar turf. At the bridge we waded happily through the knee-deep freezing current and trudged back to the entry of the park.

In these times of economic fragility (unemployment out of control); mental instability(Littleton Colorado shooting today; college professor shooting rampage earlier in the month); political discord (still no healthcare bill), it's comforting to still see the goodness of humanity shining through. And to push the "cheese factor" just a little further, check out the double rainbow we encountered on our drive!

The Pull of the Moon

The moon exerts gravitational pull on the Earth, causing the tides to ebb and flow. Children exert a similar force on parents, a fact that became excrutiatingly clear to me as our weeks in Tucson marched on. While we were having the time of our lives exploring and enjoying our new surroundings, we were far away from the kids. I really missed them, and as the date of their visit drew nearer, I was feeling unbelievably drawn toward their arrival. It was a palpable pull, not unlike the pull of the moon (coincidentally the title of a favorite Elizabeth Berg novel). I couldn't wait to get my hands on them, and I threatened them with unending bearhugs and embarrassing smooches. How lucky that they would be here for Valentine's Day; at least I'd have a cultural cover for my behavior. I understand that I am in a fortunate group of folks whose kids live in the same city as their parents. (They even chose colleges partly for their proximity to home.) Perhaps that's why being away from them is particularly challenging to me. Believe me, I really appreciate my good fortune at having them nearby in Chicago. I am also so grateful to have the means to bring them out to Arizona for a quick visit and respite from the frigid midwestern winter.

David and Jolene and Carrie and Chris arrived last Friday night, world weary and winter pallid. Chris, in a black suit, came directly from his granddad's Friday morning funeral in Pittsburgh, Carrie arrived after a week of teaching all day and conducting parent conferences 2 evenings. Jolene juggles full time teaching with evening graduate school, and David has been piling in the overtime clearing flights of supplies and volunteers to and from Haiti . These kids were pooped! We were ready with a rental van that seated all 6 of us and a weekend agenda that blended sightseeing with plenty of time for chilling by the pool. I was armed with banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, and Valentine's Day goodie bags. I was in full mom mode.

Saturday found us on the scenic road to Kartchner Caverns. We packed a picnic lunch which we enjoyed in the state park before touring the amazing live wet caves that were only discovered in the 1970's. We got a good dose of geologic information in our tour. The hundreds of millions of years of drips and drops that created the formations of stalagmites, stalactites, soda straws, drapes and flow walls put our puny lives into perspective. Fascinating. Chris, who majored in geology at IU, was particularly excited by our expedition and added to our understanding of the information. We came home and ate abundant appetizers before grilling steaks and settling in for an evening in front of the fire. I could see the travelers mellowing, and it was heavenly for us all to be together.

On Sunday eagle-eye David spotted a dead hawk in our yard and a quail pecking at the gravel. Chris spotted a bobcat in the side yard (a first for us!)and Michael ran out to try to snap a photo. The bunnies were out and about amid the cactus growing in the yard, and hawks soared overhead. A tiny taste of desert life right here on the homefront.

After David and Jolene returned from meeting her grandparents for brunch, we all headed to Sabino Canyon for a hike. Although the park was mobbed with weekend hikers (the weather was perfect: sunny in the mid-70's), we quickly found our way to a path up a bluff overlooking Sabino Dam and felt as though we were in a wilderness of our own. When we did encounter people, everyone we passed was so friendly. It was such a beautiful day, it would have been hard to be grumpy. The kids were convinced that people were smiling because I was greeting them first, but I assured them that this had been our experience every time we hiked. People genuinely are so psyched about being in the midst of this glorious nature world that they just grin their way through the canyon. It's contagious. Really. (And in case you wondered where all the clothes and gear they sell at REI and Erehwon and Dick's end up, this is it. The hikers are serious about what they do and they dress for it.)

Jolene and I relaxed in the hot tub Sunday afternoon while the rest of the group soaked up rays and lounged by the pool, sharing music from their iPods. After my muscles sighed "thank you" I was ready for the evening. The girls had several Cosmos before we left for dinner. Our tongues were loose and wagging as we regaled ourselves and the guys with outrageous stories of David and Carrie's teen years. How glad am I that they are grown?!

We had late dinner reservations at Pastiche, a restaurant we had heard about but never tried. It was all decked out for Valentine's Day, and most of the clientele was young couples on romantic dates. We were a rowdy group and we enjoyed our meals in laughter that may not have been widely appreciated by the young lovers around us, although our waitress got a kick out of our giddiness. It was a laugh-filled evening.

Monday came too quickly and travel mode set in as the kids got ready for their departure. While they were here they got a good dose of the lifestyle that has enchanted us, and we got a good dose of them. Enough to carry us along til we see them at home in early March.

They say that a mother is only as happy as her least happy child. Check out the photos of our happy children and decide for yourself how I am feeling. Woohoo!

This Old Broad

We set out to visit the Saguaro National Forest the other day. The saguaro (pronounced sa-hwah-ro) is the largest cactus of the Sonoran Desert. (Here comes the science lesson, people.) It grows nowhere else on earth. I never knew that. No wonder we see it on the Arizona license plate and in every Western reference (including my blog page). Reaching heights of as much as 50 feet ( a 4-story building), they can weigh as much as 7 tons after a rainfall and can then survive 2 years without another drop of rain. Their root systems can reach 100 feet in diameter. Slow-growing, a 6-inch-tall cactus might be 10 years old, and it can take 70 years for a saguaro to sprout its first "arm." The oldest-known saguaros are around 200 years old and may have as many as 40 arms. Supporting the spongy interior is an internal framework of sturdy ribs. The exterior is actually "pleated" so that it can expand and contract as it absorbs and uses water. Fascinating. (Thank you, Frommer's Guide, for the info)

At the visitors center of the Saguara National Forest, (which has the coolest view, btw) visitors are asked to pay the entrance fee to enjoy the park. I studied the signage and realized that seniors, age 62 and better, can purchase a LIFETIME pass to ALL properties administered by the National Park Service -- national parks, monuments, historic sites, recreation areas, and national wildlife refuges -- for a one-time fee of (drumroll, please) $10. Yes. $10. For life. I am in awe. It's called the "America the Beautiful --National Park and Federal Recreational Lands Pass -- Senior Pass." So, I went over to the desk to speak to Nancy, the parks volunteer who was stationed at the register.

Me: "I see that you sell a special $10 pass to the park here."

Nancy: "Yes, dear, but I'm sorry. You must be 62 years old to qualify."

(You can see where this is going, right?)

Me: "I am exactly 62."

Nancy: "No way!"

Me: "I think you are my new best friend."

Nancy: "You've got to be kidding. I'm afraid I'll need to see proof. Do you have an ID?"

Me: "Why, yes I do." I pull out my license.

Nancy: "Your driver's license photo is beautiful. Wow. I wouldn't have guessed that you are 62. You must exercise regularly and eat right."

Let's just not burst her bubble, OK?

So, there it is. Our country is doing something right. We respect our senior citizens and welcome them into our most treasured properties. When I get over the realization that I am officially and legally a senior citizen, I'm sure I'll appreciate the perks! In the meantime, here are some fabulous photos of our hikes in the Saguaro National Forest and the Coronado National Forest. This old broad gets around plenty well!