Sorry for the long title Blogger. I hope you don't break.
This is a story about three characters.
Our hero, SFC B.
His trusty sidekick and confidante 'Bu.
And The State of Arizona.
So anyway, now that the cast for this has been introduced let me give you some background. I'd gotten a lead for a person in Golden Valley, AZ. If you're looking at the map above Phoenix is in the middle of the map, and Golden Valley is about a fingernail's width away from the faaaaaar northwest corner of the state. It's a long drive. It's a long drive made maddening by the fact that there is nothing there.
I also have a couple dozen more pictures I may one day assemble into a presentation I'll call "Joshua Trees at 1/10th the Speed of Sound". When it's due to hit a gallery in your area I'll let you know.
Anyways, while the scenery is impressive in it's expansiveness, the audio experience leaves a good bit to be desired.
My record is having that happen 17 times in a row. Is there a law in Mexico that requires all Mexican music to contain the word "corazon"? Because as near as I can tell they all do.
The only stop between Wickenburg, AZ and Kingman, AZ is the town of Wikiup. Prior to Tuesday I figured Wikiup was known for only one thing. And that thing is a rocket with Snoopy, Spike, and Woodstock on it.
I learned that the Shell station in Wikiup also makes The World's Worst Coffee. I mean it was terrible. I couldn't have made worst tasting coffee with a jar of popcorn kernals, soiled underwear, the spill tray from under the tap at a bar, and a $15,000,000 research grant from Folgers to brew the worst tasting coffee ever. It was foul. I took a picture of it but its image doesn't show up on film or digital formats.
So anyway, after my adventures in Wikiup I finally arrived at Golden Valley. Now, Golden Valley is kind of deceptive. The road you arrive into Golden Valley on is paved.
Apparently after paving the main road there was no money left to pave any other road in Golden Valley. Now, I've gone to some out-of-the-way places to conduct an appointment. And after the four hour drive, and the World's Worst Cup of Coffee I was not going to let something like an improved surface road stop me. After all, 'Bu can handle that. I've seen him do it.
It got worse.
And worse still.
At this point I thought I was screwed.
I wasn't though. I channeled my inner MacGuyver and overcame the canyon by using my toothbrush, deoderant, gym bag, planning guide, and extra socks. I'd tell you how I did it but I don't want to bore you with a lot of technical details. I would have taken some pictures of the crossing but I had to dismantle my camera to make a special fuel to power the deoderant and toothbrush jet engine I'd made.
I'd gone a couple more miles down the rabbit trail this prospect lived on when I came upon a mighty guardian.
I could see the prospect's house right behind the guardian so I knew I was close. The guardian offered me two choices. Best him in mortal combat, or answer his three riddle. I have a number of rules by which I lead my life. Some of them come into play every day like "shoes after pants". Some I use less frequently like "Don't shop the day after Thanksgiving". A rule I figured I'd never have to use, but I had it just in case was "Don't engage in mortal combat with a big red guy in a loin cloth". Apparently I'd always had this rule in preparation for this day. While his questions were very difficult to answer I can provide some help. Because of the nature of this nearly supernatural challenge I cannot reveal the actual questions, or the order in which they're asked, if I do so my self and my family for 17 generations will suffer a plague of boils, but I can share with you the answers to his challenge are "a pickle", "The Assyrian Empire", and "Guilllaume de Machaut".
Anyways, after drinking the essence of death, treating 'Bu like it was a back-up car in an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard, and putting a class I took in college about 14th century French poets to use in the real world I was able to reach the prospect's house. As luck would have it he's now an applicant and I should be able to get myself off the nut on which I am currently.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving with people who care about them. I will not since I'll be at the house of a co-worker. Mrs. SFC B will be there as well, but she doesn't care about me so much as tolerate my presence because I'm good at what I do.
She's going to hit me for saying that, but she'd hit me even harder if she knew was I was going to write their originally.