A Wind-Wind Situation
Near where Sabino Canyon Road turns into Kolb Road I noticed way up in front of me on the left a 15-foot-tall or so Dust Devil picking up lots of debris and the courage to cross the road. I was fascinated by the gyrations and failed to notice that the Dust Devil was heading east about as fast as I was heading north.
Both of the windows in the pickup were open as my eyes darted back and forth watching the read ahead of me and the whirling dervish.
When I thought that it might be a good idea to roll up my window it was too late. Like a shotgun blast, dust and pebbles sprayed my truck and my face flinging my hat out the passenger side window.
“Forget the hat, I’m not going back,” I thought. “That thing was falling apart and I need a new one anyway.”
Still smarting from the dust and grit slap in the face, I checked the rear view mirror for any signs of blood. Nope, no blood.
As I continued toward the foothills I assessed what just happened. That could have been very messy but I did not defocus from driving through the onslaught. That part I liked. Then my thoughts turned to the stupid part where I was mesmerized by a Dust Devil, I failed to roll up the window in time, and I mourned my disintegrating hat. That admonition wiped that prideful grin right off my face.
The humiliation continued later when I arrived at my destination. Upon exiting the pickup I had to dust the whole front of my body off, my face and hair and even my left ear.
The next morning it took nearly 30 minutes to vacuum all of the dirt and gravel out of the passenger compartment and there are only two seats. Also my poor pock marked truck has even more pock marks now.
In the afternoon I was beginning get back to normal when I got a text message from a stranger.
“Barbara…where can I leave a can of food 4U”
That message perked me up even more. The address Barbara gave was on the corner of Miles and Vine, a house that had been in transition for some time since the police asked the former occupant to come out with his hands up.
Someone had moved in but I did not know who since the gate was always locked. I texted back I could stop by at 3 pm and Barbara agreed.
This time the gate wasn’t locked and I got to meet our terrific new neighbor. Barbara recently retired from a career in aeronautical drafting. And funny thing, she said she had seen the pickup round the neighborhood but didn’t do anything until the wind blew a One Can A Week Thank You note into her yard. She checked out our program on the internet and then sent me that text message.
What is it they say? “It’s an ill wind that blows no one any good.” Never really understood that negative/positive idiom until now. It means most winds are not “ill” even if they destroy folks’ property because carpenters then get the benefit of rebuilding those homes.
A wind that both beats you up and then helps you? That’s a new twist, I think.
It’s Not Getting Any Better
A new book out from the Brookings Institute states that poverty in the suburbs now surpasses the cities with 16.5 million poor to 13 million. In addition, the suburbs have far fewer social programs to provide any assistance exacerbating the problem.
My Miles Neighbors and I see the situation and are bailing as fast as we can. Wonder what all of the others are waiting for?
We collected a total of 160 lbs. of food. The money we donated amounted to $48.00, two checks totaling $35.00 and $13.00 in cash.
See you Sunday,
Peter
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