tЯuth

Congressman Santos (R-NY) has been known to spin a tale or two.

It may be uncouth, but back in Duluth,

  where tЯuth isn’t tЯuth, like Rudy’s bucktooth.

I’ll build a Great Wall, so gorgeous, so big and so tall,

  it won’t ever fall, and Mexico will pay for it all.

George’s Mom died only twice, the second funeral was nice,

  to be a bit more precise, Twin Tower cancer put her on ice.

As Marjorie gazes at Jewish Space Lasers,

  her Q-Anon praises ignite the hell-raisers.

Kari Lake is extollin’ her election was stolen,

  she’ll do some cajolin’ while lawsuits are rollin’

Paul Ryan’s fib for the age, “Do taxes on half of a page.”

  our disgust we couldn’t assuage, as we sat figuring with rage.

In Kellyanne’s tracks, we got alternate facts,

  the faster she yaks, the more lies she unpacks.

The lies that Sarah did ply us, showed us some of her bias,

  lookin’ ever, ever so pious, her whoppers sure can belie us.

Tucker is rantin’ and ravin’, an alternate universe maven,

  how did he get so craven, and why is Faux his haven?

A carnival barking clown, in a position of great renown,

  tore the Capitol down, and left us all with a frown.

If they swore on a Bible, they’d commit libel,

  the tЯuth’s not viable, we’re just too damn tribal.

Some don’t even try, they’re timid and shy,

  they’ll never know why they fell for the Lie.

LDT February 11, ‘22

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Border Run

My Honda XR400R with the Huachuca Mountains in the background.
I added a street-legal kit so I could ride the numbered back roads.

I lit up the XR for my border run,

  for twenty-one years it was nuthin’ but fun.

I lived by the river, the San Pedro it’s called,

  where Coronado crossed before it was walled.

Canteen full of agua, air in a can,

  off to Nogales, a man with a plan.

Zigging and zagging up Montezuma Pass,

  on leaving the Monument, I can go fast.

Border Patrolman gives me a look,

  maybe he’s thinkin’ that I am a crook.

The San Rafael Valley stretches out before,

  a handful of throttle, that XR can roar.

The Aerostat floats up above the Huachucas,

  lookin’ for smugglers and airborne Palookas.

Surveillance camera watches my tail,

  if I should transgress, I’ll go to jail.

Off to my left, they’ll build Ducey’s wall,

  shipping containers, ugly and tall.

The road is rough, just as I like,

  an XR is not some novice’s bike.

I pass by a ranch that’s way off the grid,

  it’d be more rustic if the panels were hid.

A militia is camped near a big wash,

  in fear and hate they are awash.

With their AR’s they’ve killed an old oak tree,

  next thing you know they’ll be gunnin’ for me.

The San Rafael Ranch is a beautiful place,

  maybe I ought to lessen my pace.

If you saw “Oklahoma” you know what I mean,

  it was here that they shot most every scene.

At Locheil I dodge a cow on the road,

  it’s maybe a sign that danger forbodes.

The road gets smooth and I open her up,

  ridin’ slow just isn’t my cup.

Duquesne is a ghost town, the ore is played out,

  at Washington Camp, there’s still life about.

A pickup comes speedin’ around a blind curve,

  it’s good that I saw it in time to swerve.

He’s probably haulin’ a big load of pot,

  pretty soon they’ll catch him, likely as not.

Sycamore Canyon is narrow and deep,

  for a while the road will get steep.

Up ahead I see gnarly soft sand,

  up on the pegs I’ll have to stand.

There’s a checkpoint at the end of the road.

  my XR ain’t haulin’ much of a load.

They look me over and pass me on through,

  they probably think I’m a washed-up hot shoe.

At Eighty-Two I’ll head on into town,

  Nogales is good for bummin’ around.

I look to the left and what do I see,

  a Nogales cop eye-ballin’ me.

Fifty-six miles of bug eatin’ smiles.

  I’ll meet up with some border exiles.

I ‘d hafta’ say that it has been fun,

there ain’t nuthin’ like my border run.

LDT February 4, ‘23

Border Run

(Photo Essay)

“Fifty-six miles of bug-eatin’ smiles,”

The border road

The route “for my border run.” It is about 56 miles from Palominas, where I used to live, to Nogales, Arizona.

“Where Coronado crossed before it was walled.”

It is a good thing for history that this thing wasn’t blocking the San Pedro River when Coronado passed through our area in 1540. I expect that someday one of our torrential Monsoon rains will take it out.

“For my border run,”

Border fence near Naco, Arizona.
The Border Wall

This formidable fence was installed across the San Pedro Valley in about 2010. It does a good job of keeping out vehicles. People and wildlife, including endangered Jaguars, find their way over. under, around or through it. The Border Patrol maintains constant visual, video and electronic surveillance over this section of the border. They also use the old-school low-tech method of dragging tires along the dirt road. This helps them spot tracks if someone should cross. The fence ends just south of Montezuma Pass where my ride starts to get interesting.

“Zigging and zagging up Montezuma Pass,”

The parking lot at Montezuma Pass

The Border Patrol maintains a constant presence at Montezuma Pass. It provides a great view of the border all the way across the San Rafael Valley. They use agents with binoculars and sophisticated surveillance equipment to track any intruders.

“Border Patrolman gives me a look,”

The Border Patrol is everywhere

The people you are most likely to see in the San Rafael Valley are Border Patrol Agents. I was once stopped by one who asked me if I had been through the Drive Thru. For a second, I thought he was talking about the one at McDonalds.

“The San Rafael Valley stretches out before,”

San Rafael Valley

The San Rafael Valley between the Huachuca and Patagonia Mountains offers excellent grazing for a handful of remote ranches.

“The Aerostat floats up above the Huachucas,”

The Aerostat at Fort Huachuca

The Aerostat is a tethered radar balloon. Its primary mission is to watch for low-flying aircraft. It has some ground surveillance capability which causes some locals to feel like they are being spied upon.

“Surveillance camera watches my tail,”

Border Patrol technology

The Border Patrol uses a variety of high tech gadgets to watch over remote sections of the border. These include radar, ground sensors and cameras.

“Off to my left, they’ll build Ducey’s wall,”

Shipping Container Wall

In 2022, Arizona Governor Doug Ducey decided to build his own makeshift border wall across the San Rafael Valley. He didn’t have permits or permission to build it on federal land. He kept building even after the Feds took him to court. Eventually, concerned citizens placed themselves in the path of the equipment that was tearing up this pristine, and fragile landscape. Ducey relented and began removing the containers. The cost to Arizona taxpayers was estimated at $140 Million or more.

“I pass by a ranch that’s way off the grid,”

Ranches in the San Rafael Valley

A few ranches can be seen in the San Rafael Valley. Some are so remote, they rely on solar power and generators.

“A militia is camped near a big wash,”

Armed Militia group in Arizona

 It is not unusual to spot an armed militia group along the border. In 2005 hundreds of members of the Minutemen Militia descended upon our area to watch for illegal aliens. They accomplished little and their leader, Chris Simcox, is now in prison for child sexual abuse.

In 2016, Shane Bauer, a reporter for Mother Jones went undercover with one of the border militias near Nogales. He found them well-armed, scary, bigoted and clueless. Here’s a link to his excellent story Undercover With a Border Militia: I Went Undercover With a Border Militia. Here’s What I Saw. – Mother Jones

“The San Rafael Ranch is a beautiful place,”

The San Rafael Ranch

The San Rafael Ranch is located on the west end of the valley beneath the Patagonia Mountains. Several movies, including the musical “Oklahoma” have been filmed here. The property has been donated to the state of Arizona for future development as a state park. It is beautiful, but remote.

“Duquesne is a ghost town, the ore is played out,”

Duquesne

Duquesne is an abandoned mining town. A few people still live nearby in Locheil and Washington Camp.

“He’s probably haulin’ a big load of pot,”

Pot Bust

I have nearly been run off the road a few times by speeding pickups. I never know if its a rancher chasing a calf or a smuggler. Once, our breakfast was interrupted in Palominas when a speeding pickup with 4 flat tires and a big load of pot came through the parking lot. They got him.

“Sycamore Canyon is narrow and deep,”

Sycamore Canyon

Sycamore Canyon provides a spectacular view as you cross the Patagonia Mountains toward Nogales.

“Up ahead I see gnarly soft sand,”

This guy knows how to ride in the sand.

Coming out of Sycamore Canyon the trail gets very sandy. Sand riding is a special skill. The rider stands of the foot pegs, plants his butt as far back as he can and gases the bike. At about 25 MPH the bike gets on top of the sand. Then he can ride smoothly, safely and fast.

“Nogales is good for bummin’ around.”

Nogales Arizona and Nogales, Mexico

Nogales is the end of the ride. What used to be the main street of both Nogales, Arizona and Sonora is now divided down the middle by the border wall. Though once you could shop on both sides of the street, you now have to go through the Port of Entry. There is good dining and nightlife on the Mexican side. Americans also go there to get cheap dental work and prescriptions. I find the curio shops a bit tacky.

Am I going home by the highway?

Hell no! I’m taking the Border Road.

See you on the trail.

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Karl

A British WWII Orphan London, 1945

He showed up in Fifty, a little bit gaunt,

  none of us knew what memories did haunt.

We couldn’t know the hell he’d been through,

  Of his tale of woe, he gave not a clue,

Of our language, he knew not a word,

  and when he spoke, it was German we heard.

We might have fussed, when he boarded the bus,

  sometimes we cussed, ‘cuz he wasn’t like us.

With nowhere to hide, he took it in stride,

  it can’t be denied, that he always tried.

To thwart the wrong, he had to be strong,

  it didn’t take long, ‘til he would belong.

A friend to us all, he always stood tall,

  in things big and small, he carried the ball.

An orphan no more, a survivor of war,

  he came to our shore, and rose to the fore.

LDT January 28, ‘22

This poem is dedicated to the children of war.

It was inspired by my childhood friend Karl Waitschies.

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Karl went on to become a successful farmer, community leader and Montana state legislator. This story about visiting his wife offers a glimpse into his character. Couple married for 55 years reunites for first hug since start of pandemic (nbcnews.com)

Terrenate

The remains of the Presidio Terrernate in Cochise County, AZ

If the walls could talk, oh the tales they would tell,

  about a bastion on the river in high desert Hell.

The adobe slowly melts into the dirt,

  the fort once stood in the empty desert.

Where once stood crosses to honor the dead,

  and too many sad masses had to be said.

For five long years they fought for this land,

  the home of a notorious Apache band.

They boldly set forth, these lancers from Spain,

  only to die in the mud and the rain.

Through rivers they sloshed, over trails they crossed,

  when they measured the cost, four score had been lost.

They were defeated, and then they retreated,

  their progress impeded, they had not succeeded.

They thirsted for water, the river was near,

  they had not the courage to dampen their fear.

In their diaspora, some went to Sonora,

  some to Zamora, it was their Pandora.

The centuries passed, New Spain didn’t last,

  her soldiers out-classed, their grim fate was cast.

I might visit someday, but I’ll never stay,

  there are ghosts so they say, at Terrenate.

LDT 1/22/23

         The Presidio Santa Cruz de Terrenate (tĕr-ĕn-nä′tĕ) is located in Cochise County on the San Pedro River a mile or so northwest of the ghost town of Fairbank, Arizona. The small garrison was decimated in two major battles and several minor attacks. Terrenate opened in 1776 and was abandoned in 1780. The last commander gave these reasons for its closure:

The terror instilled in the troops and settlers of the Presidio of Santa Cruz (de Terrenate) that had seen two captains and more than 80 men perish at the hands of the enemies in the open rolling ground at a short distance from the post, and the incessant attacks which they suffered from the numerous bands of Apache, who do not permit cultivation of the crops, who surprise the mule trains carrying effects and supplies, who rob the horse herds and put the troops in the situation of not being able to attend their own defense, making them useless for the defense of the province.”

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Shall We Dance?

Shall we dance across the living room floor,

          into the kitchen and back to the door?

May I hold you close and pull you in tight,

          as we dance together the rest of the night?

Will you close your eyes and rest on my shoulder,

          and never notice that we’re getting’ older?

Can I twirl you around and give you a rose,

          and tell you why it’s you I have chose?

It’s easy to tell that our love is true,

          especially when I am dancing with you.

It’s certain for sure it’s you I adore,

          when we dance’ across the living room floor.

LDT January 21, ’23   51st Anniversary for Larry and Karen

Main Menu- http://www.azrockdodger.com

Magoo

There’s no one else like Mister Magoo,

  he’s a dapper gent through and through.

Reading what he wants to see,

  walking in to a wall or tree.

The world is just a blur to him,

  still, he charges right on in.

Sometimes he’ll get into a tiff,

  sometimes he will fall off a cliff.

It’s good that he’s unflappable,

  that’s what makes him loveable.

With Waldo in his Muskrat coat,

  they’re up a creek without a boat.

When he’s driving his old car,

  he’s causing chaos near and far.

No matter what for heaven’s sakes,

  we have to laugh at his mistakes.

He’ll always wind up in the end,

  with some trouble he can’t transcend.

He is my hero through and through,

  no one can top Mister Magoo.

With all my shucks and what-the-hecks,

  I’m just like him without my specs!  

LDT January 15. ‘22

Little Things

May your life be blessed with little things,

  as each new time the doorbell rings.

A childish drawing on the fridge,

  a magnet with an old adage.

Children playing in the yard,

  times that aren’t so awful hard.

The morning song of the Lark,

  a quiet walk within the park.

Fragrant flowers gathered up.

  a drop of cream in your cup.

The aroma of fresh-baked bread,

  happy thoughts within your head.

The freshness of a summer rain,

  the waving of a field of grain.

The warmth that comes from a hug,

  a baby crawlin’ on the rug.

A visit from a long-lost friend,

  it didn’t matter in the end.

A Bible verse to calm the soul,

  some happiness as lovers stroll.

So you won’t be troubled by the Blues,

   walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.

No matter what the future brings,

  may your life be filled with little things.

LDT Jan 14, ‘23

Main Menu- http://www.azrockdodger.com

Taking Back Our Democracy

The Founders Knew How to Compromise

Our democracy is slipping away. We may be one or two election cycles away from falling into an authoritarian nightmare.

Ballot initiatives could be our way of preserving democracy for future generations.

Here in Arizona, they are quite common.

We have a terrible record of electing extremists to the state legislature.

They pass bills that most Arizonans find appalling. Yet, we keep sending them back to Phoenix. In my district a state senator ran unopposed in 2022. His re-election was hardly a red wave.

There is typically fierce opposition when voters propose initiatives to help the schools. If they pass, the legislature often finds ways to avoid implementing them.

Still, we need to persevere. That means more and better voter initiatives.

Arizona voters have passed and your state should consider an initiative for an Independent Redistricting Commission. This takes away the legislature’s power to Gerrymander their own districts. Our commission does not work as well as it should, but it is a start.

Ranked-Choice Voting is another initiative that all states should be considering. RCV helps keep extreme partisans from rising to the top in election contests. It worked very well in Alaska during the Midterms. It sounds complicated, but it has the potential to keep the Palins and Boeberts out of government. Here’s some info, if you are not familiar with RCV. Ranked-choice voting (RCV) – Ballotpedia

Politics is about compromise. In a democracy, you never get all of what you want. We need to start electing those who have some flexibility on issues. If a district has a competitive balance of voters with opposing perspectives, it tends to elect better people. This means no partisan Gerrymandering. Similarly, RCV helps flexible moderates from both parties get elected. Flexible legislators get things done without betraying the interests of their voters.

There is also a need to improve the mechanics of presidential primary elections. No one should get all of a state’s delegates unless they conclusively win. Sadly, this was how Donald tЯump rose to the top of a crowded 2016 GOP primary field. If the party had been using Ranked-Choice Voting that probably would not have happened.

Lastly, we need to find a way to minimize the influence of moneyed interests in our elections. The Supreme Court calls corporate donations “Free Speech”. I disagree. In 2022 Arizona voters passed an initiative that is intended to at least shed more light on who is providing the massive amounts of cash flowing into campaigns. Perhaps this will help expose how special interests “buy” politicians. Much more needs to be done. Rigorous ethical standards on the relationships between politicians and special interests must be established and enforced.

Change requires a lot of grass roots efforts. Those of you who circulate petitions, run for office at all levels, help get out the vote and work the polls are preserving our democracy.

I salute you.

LDT January 4, ’22

Radio Waves

Vintage Silvertone Console Radio

We didn’t have a lot, but we had a radio,

  sometimes we’d listen to The Grand Ole Opry Show.

A finished wooden cabinet, with a golden glow,

  when the tubes warmed up, it was good to go.

We had to dial carefully, the signal wasn’t strong,

  pretty soon it lit up with a country song.

It brought the outside world to our living room,

  and in the lonely winter, it took away the gloom.

There was music, news and drama, the Shadow only knew,

  Fibber McGee and Molly, to mention but a few.

Hank and Lefty sang the ballads of the day,

  surely they could drive all our blues away.

The radio would rock, comin’ home from school,

  and up and down the block, Rock and Roll was cool.

We learned about the weather, the rain and the crops,

  might need to sell some cattle before the market drops.

Every so often they cut in for an ad,

  Geritol will help you, if you’re feelin’ bad.

We oughta’ buy insurance or a spiffy Oldsmobile,

  the eggs at the market are really quite a deal.

Brenda Lee and Patsy, sing about their woes,

  or how a perfect love just grows and grows and grows.

Leanin’ toward the speaker, we hung on every word.

  that radio was the best thing that we had ever heard.

You can keep your TV and your internet,

  just le me spin the dial on my Superhet*.

LDT December 31, ‘22

*Superheterodyne- Technical term for an AM radio.

Main Menu- http://www.azrockdodger.com

Rex

Rex at Wolf Point. About 1940
The Buckle is a Wyoming State Amateur Championship from 1937.

His name was Rex Thill, his horse was Whiskey Bill,

  few could match his skill, or his poker iron will.

Grew up in the Breaks, chasin’ Rattlesnakes,

  no matter the stakes, Rex had what it takes.

Rode a horse to school, learned the Golden Rule,

  didn’t truck no fool, stubborn like a mule.

Pretty soon he’d go, to ride the rodeo,

  a tough row to hoe, put on quite a show.

Wolf Point or Cheyenne, winnin’ was the plan,

  all should understand, he’s a rodeo man.

Drew a bull named Arbuckle, he just gave a chuckle,

  held the rein bare knuckle, and won that silver buckle.

Never showed no fear, of hittin’ his nadir,

   drinkin’ his Hamms beer, to get a little cheer.

Came time to settle down, he moved on in to town,

  never had a frown, a man of some renown.

The GN had a job, bought a watch and fob,

  pushed the throttle knob, and made that engine throb.

Three kids and a wife, made us a damn good life,

  troubles they were rife, but he handled all the strife.

Had a house on Mahon, it even had a lawn,

  Midnight freight he’d drawn, comin’ home at dawn.

He cowboyed just for fun, when his railroad days were done,

  with the buckles that he’d won, the city life he’d shun.

He was after Boyce’s cattle, when he fought his final battle,

  sittin’ in the saddle, one last horse to straddle.

Been gone now fifty years, I’m gonna’ shed some tears,

  of cowboy cavaliers, he hardly had no peers.

LDT December 26, ‘22

Main Menu- http://www.azrockdodger.com