“Baby, It’s Cold Outside…..”
The weather turned cold and windy for a few days in mid January – the whole country was in a freeze and we were experiencing the whiplash. So we put aside Geocaching for some indoor pursuits like shopping and seeing a couple of movies.
I’m an aficionado of musicals and “Dreamgirls” had just opened in Yuma. I left Fernie at home happily watching the NFL playoffs and trotted off to a matinee. I queued up in a short line for tickets and was next when another window opened up and the cashier called out “May I take the next in line”. I slid over – it was my turn – and a gauche old man body checked me while trying to whip in front of me to cut me off. He had a netted ball cap with about six inches of air space above his heavy-jowled florid face, an old plaid shirt and drooping, baggy blue jeans – not a picture of sartorial splendour. It was obvious what type I was dealing with.
“Are you trying to push in?” I asked acerbically.
“Be my guest,” he answered loudly and snidely while not moving one inch out of my way. He enraged me but I didn’t want to show my anger, which would give him satisfaction, so I smirked and in a clear and resonant tone, retorted condescendingly, “If you understand the meaning of good manners, please use them”. His dumpling shaped wife shrivelled with embarrassment and slunk backwards pretending not to be with him but he didn’t budge and just looked at me with a stupid expression on his face struggling to find words. “I said be my guest” he mumbled, obviously inarticulate, but he edged closer to me forcing me to back up. Feeling revolted at the proximity, I moved over to the front of the line-up and said “I’m not going to lower myself to argue with such ignorance”. By now, the queue was lengthening and several people gave me their verbal support “What a horrible man!” said one “Good for you!” said another. The perpetrator stood speechless not knowing what to do. I went up to an alternate cashier, paid my $5 (what a deal – it pays to be a senior) and that was the end of that. I don’t know whether he and his wife ever came in – the last I saw as I went through the door was him trying to coax her.
The theatre was about half full and mostly older folk – older than me. I settled into the cushy seat and let Dreamgirls unfold. 
The film was tremendous entertainment; the music captivated me while I settled into a nostalgic reverie. Those were ‘my’ times and the artists sang ‘my’ music. Beyonce’s, Deena was a ‘not-at-all-subtle’ imitation of Diana Ross (and the Supremes) and Eddie Murphy’s portrayal of James Thunder Early was a parallel to James Brown. Eddie did a really commendable job and I knew he’d be winning awards for the role. The songs he sung were great but I’m not sure if it was his singing voice or if it was dubbed. Newcomer, Jennifer Hudson as Effie was surprisingly outstanding and after her ‘show-stopping’ “I’m Not Going” I heard some elderly ladies snarkingly commenting, “Well, that’s enough of that screeching”. When the film was over, I was left with that wonderful warm feeling of having truly enjoyed the experience but I don’t think anyone else in the theatre that afternoon liked it by the comments as they left. But it wasn’t their era.
Fernie joined me for the next movie – probably afraid I’d get into another confrontation and he’d have to protect me. A remarkable film, 
“The Queen” revealed the ‘behind the scenes’ behaviours of the royals after Princess Diana was killed. Outstanding acting by Helen Mirren as Queen Elizabeth II – she became the queen. If she doesn’t cop best actress this year, I’ll be awfully surprised. The film humanized the royals in a way that no book or documentary could do. Not that I’m a big follower of the royal family, but I was brought up by a parent who was which makes me quite interested. I found it so touching seeing the interaction between the queen and her husband. Prince Philip saying “Are you going to bed now ‘Cabbage’?” really made me laugh. Another fine performance by the actor (……gee, I don’t know his name) who played Prime Minister Tony Blair.
The weather got warmer again after a couple of days and so it was back to the fresh air for some Geocaching.
Desert Vignettes
It’s quite amazing what happens when water is introduced to the desert. Yuma and 
the Imperial Valley are great examples – vast fields of broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce – prolific orchards of oranges, grapefruit, tangelos, lemons and avocadoes all exist in what was previously arid wasteland. The produce is hand picked by Mexicans who are transported across the border in decrepit white buses pulling a couple of portable toilets and a hand washing station. They pick, clean, cull, wrap and box the produce right in the fields and the boxes are loaded right on to large semi-trailer trucks and shipped immediately to market. It’s a very efficient operation but wouldn’t you think that machines could do it?
When the wind blows, the sand swirls and rises coating everything in a gritty veil. The sun is obscured as if covered by gauze looking otherworldly. The sand manages to creep in through vents leaving a dusty layer in its wake. It buries itself at the roots of your hair and grazes your skin and lips. Farmers busily water down their fields so they don’t lose their dusty soil in the blustery weather. Just as sudden as the wind starts – it abruptly halts and the sun is once more hot and soothing.
The little Californian town of Felicity 
sits alongside Interstate 8 not far from Pilot Knob. A French man who named the settlement after his Asian wife, Felicia, founded the bizarre community. He proudly claimed, “Felicity is the only town in the USA named for a Chinese woman”. With a population of no more than 20, it has also been designated “The Center of the World” just because the title had never been used elsewhere and was thus available.
A Geocaching expedition took us 
into Felicity and we explored its eccentricities. A muscular steel arm protruding from a rock forms the pointer for a large sundial. The finger points to a pyramid, which is in alignment with an unusual chapel built at the top of a man-made sand dune. It all seems very mysterious and supernatural but there was no one around to explain it to us. 
In between the pyramid and the church, large triangular slabs of brown highly
polished granite have been formed into long walls and etched with stories and pictures proclaiming France’s important achievements in aviation history. It’s still under construction and it’s obvious that a lot of money is being spent and I can’t see that this ‘tourist attraction’ can be a moneymaker. At 2:30 in the afternoon, the restaurant was empty and the gift shop, which was full of trendy and artistic wares, had no proprietor present. I called out “Is anyone here?” several times but nobody appeared. It’s an enigma.
“Ain’t no Mountain High Enough….”
I chuckle every morning when the realization hits that I don’t have to go to work. It hasn’t become second nature yet and it takes a few moments after waking to comprehend that we can lead a life of indolence if we so choose. Retirement is wonderful and I only wish we’d started sooner. It seems we spend our lives accumulating material possessions and then all of a sudden on retirement, we want to unburden ourselves and live like free spirits – well, some of us anyway. I do like the idea that our home is still waiting for us should we choose to return for a while but all the goods and chattels filling it are like an anchor.
This is our second winter of escaping the cold 
wintry north and I seem to be much more mellow – I don’t have the constant compulsion to move on. We are actually enjoying staying in one place for a while – it gives us a chance to delve into all the nooks and crannies of a town with the lure of ‘Geocaches’ as our tour guide.
Pilot Knob a solitary rocky hummock in eastern California at the juncture of Arizona and Mexico is strangely set apart from the Chocolate Mountain Range. Several caches have been secreted on and around the barren mountain and that’s what drew us. We parked our car in the desert outside the area marked “No trespassing” and we trespassed …… that’s where the coordinates aimed us. 
“It’s only a little more than half a mile” I said after scrutinizing the GPS. I didn’t take into consideration that it would be five times that distance as the GPS calculates ‘as the crow flies’. But we didn’t contemplate that the cache would be at the highest peak of the mount. We didn’t read all the facts on the info sheet, because if we had, the mention of the cache being ‘within arm’s reach of the solar tower’ would have been a good clue. If anyone had told me that I’d climb to the top of the Knob, I’d have thought they were nuts.
The beginning of the trail was a fairly easy hike. On the lower slopes, we encountered a man at a distance with a holstered gun glinting in the sunshine and a hiking pole, which he used to stab at gullies and under rocks. “There’s been ‘wetbacks’ all over here” he shouted over to us “they’ve left their water bottles and other garbage behind them.” He didn’t look like a border patrol officer – no uniform – but the gun intimidated us and we hastened up to get away from him. “Aren’t you glad you’re with a blonde?” I said to Fernie “otherwise he might have taken you for an illegal Mexican”.
The trail got steeper and narrower and sometimes 
disappeared and we had to clamber over rocks, which slid away beneath our feet cascading down the bluff. We wound up and around the outcroppings and when I reached a safe and level spot, I checked the GPS – we weren’t making much progress as we were still far away from our target. We looked down to see how far we’d climbed and noticed that a border patrol truck was inspecting our car, a tiny spot in the distance. Not much we could do about that, so we scrambled on up the interminable climb.
It was getting very difficult now with huge sheer rocks to scale and Fernie who was ahead yelled back “You’ll never make it – let me go up and you stay there”. I was 
disappointed and sat on a slab and scrutinized other possibilities up the remainder of the mountain. I decided to give it a try on an alternate route – it seemed like a nearly vertical climb but the rocks were smaller and I managed to scale them eventually reaching the top where Fernie had already found the cache. I was absolutely elated but my knees shook when I looked down. The fairly level top was only about eight feet across and held a white cross and a small solar panel and tower and 
we could see 360 degrees – Algodones, Mexico just below on the southern side, Yuma to the east, the Chocolate Mountains to the north and sand dunes and desert stretching to infinity. But how on earth would I get down? Ohmygawd! Members of the Sierra Club had placed the cache – folks who are in much better shape than I. The wind was keen and loose pages of the log blew free – we grabbed them and held on tight as we inspected the contents and proudly signed the log. A small metal plaque attached to a rock was a gruesome reminder that we were in a dangerous place. It was a memorial to a climber who had plummeted off the peak.
Eventually we had to go down and the first 30 feet was terrifying. When I’d dislodge a stone and it would send a stream of rocks hurtling down, I resorted to descending on my backside. It was a very slow descent and when we finally reached the lower trail, we chortled with delight on our accomplishment.
Not all geocaches provide such excitement - they are often in built up areas or urban parks but every one of them is a challenge and we venture out almost every day in hot pursuit.
The film was tremendous entertainment; the music captivated me while I settled into a nostalgic reverie. Those were ‘my’ times and the artists sang ‘my’ music. Beyonce’s, Deena was a ‘not-at-all-subtle’ imitation of Diana Ross (and the Supremes) and Eddie Murphy’s portrayal of James Thunder Early was a parallel to James Brown. Eddie did a really commendable job and I knew he’d be winning awards for the role. The songs he sung were great but I’m not sure if it was his singing voice or if it was dubbed. Newcomer, Jennifer Hudson as Effie was surprisingly outstanding and after her ‘show-stopping’ “I’m Not Going” I heard some elderly ladies snarkingly commenting, “Well, that’s enough of that screeching”. When the film was over, I was left with that wonderful warm feeling of having truly enjoyed the experience but I don’t think anyone else in the theatre that afternoon liked it by the comments as they left. But it wasn’t their era.
“The Queen” revealed the ‘behind the scenes’ behaviours of the royals after Princess Diana was killed. Outstanding acting by Helen Mirren as Queen Elizabeth II – she became the queen. If she doesn’t cop best actress this year, I’ll be awfully surprised. The film humanized the royals in a way that no book or documentary could do. Not that I’m a big follower of the royal family, but I was brought up by a parent who was which makes me quite interested. I found it so touching seeing the interaction between the queen and her husband. Prince Philip saying “Are you going to bed now ‘Cabbage’?” really made me laugh. Another fine performance by the actor (……gee, I don’t know his name) who played Prime Minister Tony Blair. 
