We had a wonderful time staying with my aunt and uncle and their three dogs. The male of the bunch was quite a yapper. He barked at me even after we had been with them two days. Oh, but whenever my aunt and uncle left the house he cowered in a corner in fear. All bark and no bite, I tell you.
The state is strange. It has this weird, Kill Bill feeling. It reminds me of Maynard James Keenan and every movie made by Quentin Tarantino. At every turn I keep expecting to see Zoro. The tumble weed and sand storms are real. Crazy real.
As we drove south from Tucson to Sierra Vista (a small town that is four miles from the Mexico border), my son quipped, “It’s like we are on a whole nother planet, mom.” Yes indeed. They have signs asking people not to bring their guns into the restaurant. And they have border patrol agents instead of homeland security.
The first day in Tucson my daughter told me how weird it was that there were no cop cars. After that, I just started paying attention. Indeed… there were no cop cars. No homeland security. No bomb squad. Border patrol on the highway, but not many.
Weird. Arizona appears to be less of a police state than Los Angeles. Maybe the rest of the states will feel this free?