Zona

my church is crazy anal about membership records. they called me at 7:30 in the too early AM for me one morning. I have caller ID so I didn't answer. I was about to go back to sleep in my room at my mother's house when I heard my mother's phone ring. "he don't answer. let's call his mother".

they've lost my daughter's membership records. she's out somewhere in records purgatory and alarms are sounding in the church office building in Salt Lake City. they MUST find her.

I'm wondering how they got MY phone number since I didn't give it to them. maybe I don't wanna know?

so we eliminated all the possibilities that they were really cops in disguise, or creditors in costumes, and after they call my mother again my wife ends up talking to them. I don't want them to detect apostasy in my voice and shred MY records. I don't attend church anymore but hey, everyone needs an ace in the hole. my wife gives them some info on where she thinks Ilsen's records might be. you see, the church sends them around to where you attend.

Ilsen's can't be found. who knows HOW they even know her records are lost. they want her address but we're still reluctant to give it to them.

so yesterday I'm being driven over bumpy dirt roads after qualifying with my gun near the Mexican border when my phone vibrates.

it's the church.

Ilsen's records have been found in the Salt Lake City central records office. I'm so relieved!

they STILL want her address.

cops? creditors?

I tell the lady to call me back in two hours so I can write down the 1-800 number she's trying to give me. she doesn't.

last night my sister and I were texting back and forth about American Idol so my phone was on noise instead of vibrate when the church called me this morning...

at 7:30

they must think all Mormons are early risers. I see the number on the display. that's how I know it's them. I open and close my phone, put it on vibrate, and go back to sleep.

I wonder if my records got shredded

Big moon. Me take picture

that place on 22nd. I don't know the name of that particular stand but to most Tucsonans you just need to say "that place on 22nd" and then narrow it down to "the one on the big dirt lot" and they'll know.

the local rag had a competition not long ago to determine the best Sonoran hot dog in Tucson and the idiots picked a Sinoloan hot dog. the difference is the bun on a Sinoloan dog is toasted.

I've had the dog at the Sinoloan place and this one has twice the flavor. gotta be the quality of the ingredients.

the place on 22nd also has a complete menu of other items including a wonderful tongue burrito

when I was a kid golf was a bit different on the Tucson municipal courses. this is one of the few remaining signs of that era. (located at El Rio golf course) there were also signs in the 9th and 18th tee boxes that reminded golfers to put their shirts back on when approaching the clubhouse. I remember quite a few summer days where I played a round in cut-offs with my tee shirt stuffed into the back pocket.

I shoot a slightly better score these days but I haven't played without a shirt in a long long time. I enjoy golf because I don't care to practice or improve. it's not required. there is no pressure. I like to hit good shots, I love to swear, I love some of the trick shots I'm required to hit. I prefer to play alone but a good conversation is also welcome.

I have just over 2 weeks left on this TDY and I have never felt more burned out. I feel like I have accomplished nothing except dig a bigger hole sometimes. The drama of the situation with the locals and rotating shifts and pressure and cameras at every angle have take a toll.

It's hard to sum up the good and balance it out. There has been good. Dinners with mom and my sister and her family and a great b-day present and other things but I will always feel I've fallen short of putting myself in a better situation.

Culture shock in my spirit is hard to overcome and coming back to the borderlands will be hard to reconcile. I am in need of serious detox and will hopefully get it as Spring nears at home and the garden awaits to distract me.

No way I thought it would be this hard and no way I ever stay as long again.

I can't remember what this sign was for but I remember when it wasn't all busted up. I wanna say it was a restaurant but I'm not sure