Posts Tagged Buckeye Arizona

Barrelin’ Down the Dirt Road

Barrelin’ Down the Dirt Road

In Memory of Richard (Dick) Morris

This is another tale about yours truly, and the stunts I pulled back in the day. I had a wild streak, knew everything, and needed no instruction from the adult world. (Was anybody else like that when they were a teenager?) Well, anyway, check this out. Read the rest of this entry »

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Outrunning the sheriff – on foot!

Well, I didn’t actually outrun him, because he wasn’t chasing me. Allow me to explain.

One of my high school classmates reminded me of this incident when he commented on my story, Payback. Alan Calvert remarked that he, too, had some “dirt road” experiences back in the day, and had once outrun the local sheriff. (Alan: If you’d care to elaborate, feel free to post the details as a “comment” on my blog. I’m sure many of my readers from Buckeye would love to hear about it!) Read the rest of this entry »

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The Lago Vista Loop

Since I’m on a weather kick these last few days, thought I’d throw this one back at you.

It seems to me much of our lives and conversation center around weather. It also seems to me we are most of the time not pleased with whatever the weather might be at any given moment. Though it might be sunny, and the temperature pleasant, we complain the wind is too strong, or the humidity too high. Weather, it seems, must be perfect, or it is bad. Read the rest of this entry »

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Barrelin’ Down the Dirt Road (part 2)

When I got to the gin, I forgot to check the oil; remembering at the last minute. I bailed out and checked it as fast I could, and the guy running the big suction tube was yelling at me to get to get my dang truck out of the way, as I jumped back into the driver’s seat. During harvest time, there could be a lot of trailers lined up waiting to unload, and time was money. Read the rest of this entry »

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Barrelin’ Down the Dirt Road

This is another tale about yours truly, and the stunts I pulled back in the day. I had a wild streak, knew everything, and needed no instruction from the adult world. (Was anybody else like that when they were a teenager?) Well, anyway, check this out. Read the rest of this entry »

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Yeah, But It’s A Dry Heat!

Okay, Okay, I get it! But what’s the point? Why is it when someone—myself, for instance—who has lived in the desert southwest, mentions how much higher the temperature is there compared to say College Station, Texas, the answer is always the same; “Yeah, but it’s a dry heat.” Read the rest of this entry »

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Patrol Boy!

Another aspect of getting to and from grade school in Buckeye, Arizona back in the early sixties was getting across Monroe Street, otherwise known as “main”. It was also Highway 80, which would take you to Phoenix if you went east, and to Gila Bend then Yuma, if you went west. It was, by far, the busiest street in town, and therefore the most dangerous to cross. Patrol boys were charged with seeing that the other kids got across the street safely. Read the rest of this entry »

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Pee Wee And Dizzy

In my story, We Saw It All, Mom, I talked about my mom working at Mildred’s Café in Buckeye, Arizona when we were kids. Mildred’s was a great little café, and it was the place everybody gathered for breakfast and lunch to shoot the breeze about what was going on in the little dessert farming town.

It was also the place where former baseball stars Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean came for their meals when they were in the Buckeye Valley to hunt dove. Read the rest of this entry »

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Bull Riding Fools!

Yep, yep, yep, rode me a few back in the day. Can you say LOL! Not this guy! I like to talk about how I ain’t afraid of much of nothing, but getting on the back of an angry two ton beast is not what I call brave. I call it asking for big trouble. I’ve done some crazy stuff, but riding a bull is not one of them. I might try one of those in a bar, where there’s a padded floor to land on…. maybe. Read the rest of this entry »

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Anywhere Ah Wonts To

The first construction project I ever worked on was a Sears store in Sacramento, California. It was a big job, and I was one of a dozen or so laborers on the project. Our foreman was this huge Jamaican guy named Bethel Lee. He was at least six and a half feet tall, and weighed probably three-fifty; one of those gentle giants, though; a really nice guy and everyone liked him. But when he got angry, he could look ferocious and intimidating. Read the rest of this entry »

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