Obituary for a Pair of Socks

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Handmade Socks

Yesterday, this pair of socks that Caroline informed me is less than a year old developed a large hole under the ball of one of my feet. They are unrepairable as the darning stitches that would be required to bridge the hole would be too uncomfortable for my highly sensitive feet. The yarn was picked up in Santa Cruz, California, last May 4th, which means Caroline just finished these within the last 6 months. Maybe I wore them too often or it’s possible they didn’t have enough nylon spun into the yarn? In any case, they weren’t as durable as others. There’s really no way of knowing, but they need to be put aside with great sadness. We are considering keeping one and adding it to our Tibetan prayer flags that hang over a sliding door. When socks are handmade for you, it’s absolutely tragic when a pair must go away.

Drifting Consciousness

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Dried Gecko

This homeless man in front of me sits in a coffee shop, twitching, but he’s fully asleep. He’s dreaming, but his hands and feet never stop moving. As he drifts into deeper sleep, his head tries to find a comfortable resting spot, but the need to appear awake to avoid being asked to leave signals his body to look alive.

His sleepy eyes pop open and survey the landscape, but he’s fighting the exhaustion of being on streets where not remaining alert means the little he may have can be taken from him. Through the narrowing lids, I can see his eyes rolling as they lose focus and work hard at bringing this man to rest, but he’s fighting it.

He, like so many others who pass through here while I sit comfortably writing after a great night of sleep, sipping a coffee, experiencing the luxury of free time that allows me to interpret those around me instead of just trying to have a few moments of shelter, rest, and use of toilet facilities.

At what point he became aware of my attention to him is of no importance as in his situation, he is used to and aware of being observed, and maybe in his world, that means he would soon need to move on. That’s just what he did.

Ethel Cain

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Ethel Cain at Valley Bar in Phoenix, Arizona

Closed out our day today with a live performance by Ethel Cain at the sold-out Valley Bar. First up as the opening act was Colyer who turns out to be the co-writer of Ethel’s song American Teenager. During his short 30-minute performance, we didn’t know of his connection to Ethel nor did we know that he’d be playing guitar during her set. Colyer seemed to be channeling Chris Isaak with a bit of Leonard Cohen sprinkled in (according to Caroline) and for me, it was a mix of Teddy Pendergrass and George Michael: slow vibes, and smoky sensuality for the shoegaze crowd.

Ethel took the stage to wild enthusiasm from the audience, and I can’t emphasize enough, seriously wild enthusiasm. The roar in this tiny 500-person venue reminded me of the kind of scream reserved for those who are on their way to superstardom. While I could be mistaken, I think Ethel opened with American Teenager which resonated with many in the crowd who are still a lot closer to their teenage years than us two oldies that were in attendance, probably looking like chaperones for some kids we brought. The rather short set closed with Crush and, as the old proverbial saying goes, “…the crowd went wild.” It was obvious that this was the most popular song of the evening if that is judged by the number of audience members singing along. Sadly, the encore was but one song, likely due to time constraints of this being an all-ages show and the bar needing to get to other business after kicking out the kids

Aaron Coldblood, John Wise, and Caroline Wise at Valley Bar in Phoenix, Arizona

Walking out of the venue we ran into Aaron Coldblood who we’ve not seen in a few years. Nothing has changed with Aaron, well except that his old dog passed away since we last saw him. We learned that Aaron has been wearing the hat of DJ most recently organizing shows here in Phoenix but with the possibility of a gig starting over in Vegas. His shows focus on industrial, Witch House, and something else I can’t recall. While you wouldn’t guess it from Aaron’s gruff exterior he’s quite the sweet guy who seriously loved his old dog, enjoys drives on the Pacific Coast, was brought to tears at a recent Tori Amos show and was nearly moved to tears by Ethel this evening, what a romantic.

Always Changing

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Cactus flower in Phoenix, Arizona

The giant Cereus cactus flower greets us as part of the most vibrant abundance of cactus blooms we’ve ever seen living in this neighborhood. The cooler summer we’ve been experiencing and the wetter monsoon season, at least here in our corner of the Valley of the Sun, must be contributing factors. When the saguaros bloomed back in late springtime I didn’t manage to snag an image to share, somehow they weren’t as spectacular as in some of the previous years. With the evolving seasons, nature responds accordingly as conditions are always changing.

As we too are part of nature, we are always changing with it. Caroline’s foot has been mending nicely according to her doctor but also her experience, allowing her to slowly return to normal. Today was her first walk that took us out for 3 miles, the previous nearly 2 weeks saw her only collecting steps in 1-mile increments. This bodes well for a fast-approaching road trip that sees us traveling 706 miles (1,136 kilometers) over to Monterey, California, on the coast. It was just last Wednesday and only 20 days after her foot surgery (bunionectomy) that she was able to leave the recovery boot behind. Her foot is still being iced multiple times a day as there’s a tiny bit of residual swelling going on, but by and large, things are looking great and seemingly always changing.

Monterey Bay Aquarium Membership Pass

The surgery derailed our August travels though we did attempt to escape Phoenix a couple of times. This first trip of September taking us northwest is one of certitude; we are going. And since I mentioned Monterey you should know that it is the Monterey Bay Aquarium that holds the main attraction for us, not the bars, restaurants, trendy shops, swanky seaside hotels, or golfing. We will be putting on the miles walking along the ocean from our motel in Pacific Grove to the aquarium and then back to our motel late in the day.

Something less prone to change is my abhorrence of shopping for clothes, but after 8 years and 8 months I finally need to go buy new shirts and that’s what I’m going to do this morning after I save this as a draft post. You might wonder how I can be so accurate regarding my last date in a department store to buy shirts? I went back through old posts to see the approximate date when I changed shirt designs. You see, I wear my shirts well past the time when they should have been tossed in the trash and when I go buy new ones, the current shirts all head for the bin, and if I’m successful today, all of my shirts you’ve seen in my travel photos since December 2013 will be gone. So even if it doesn’t look like it, even my clothes are changing though it might take something close to a decade for that to happen.

Detail of worn-out shirts

I finally did it, I drove the 25 miles south to a mall I thought I’d have a good chance with, and while Macy’s let me down, Dillards came to the rescue. Buying clothes for myself gives me anxiety as bad as when buying a car, but it’s done and my salesperson Linda deserves a lot of the credit as I told her what I was looking for and without any dithering, she took me exactly where I needed to go. I am now the owner of 14 new shirts with a dozen marked down 60% because it is the end of summer and the store needed to clear them from inventory to make way for fall and winter lines. Lucky me. With this replenishing of shirt stock, I’ll be dumping all but one of my old shirts as it’s still a favorite that’s NOT coming apart, yet. The top orange shirt demonstrates how much it faded in the sun and the purplish one below it (maybe bluish, I’m colorblind) shows the collar separating.

Spicy pork bulgogi from Hodori Restaurant in Mesa, Arizona

In celebration, I stopped at Hodori Korean restaurant in Mesa for some spicy pork bulgogi. My next goal, not really a subject to be talked about as lunch is soon to arrive is that when I get home I should look for the prescription for my colonoscopy I’ve been trying to ignore. At 59 years old, I really should get my “Shit sock” and Schließmuskel looked at to see if it’s all in proper working order. If I could do that and get a couple of things repaired in our apartment, I will have crossed everything off my list of things to get done this year. Then, during the last third of the year, I can put my attention on what major things might be accomplished next year.

Got home and packed up the old shirts for Goodwill, even if they don’t want them they know where to recycle fabric and then I called the Gastroenterology Center, already filled out their form, sent it back in and now I’m waiting for them to fix me an appointment.

A surprise day where everything was moving towards change.

Das Boot

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Caroline Wise with Das Boot in Phoenix, Arizona

Witness this woman experiencing sunlight for the first time in days. Not only that, but she’s making an appearance in Das Boot. No, not the famous 1981 German movie titled Das Boot featuring the smoldering actor Jürgen Prochnow (her words), but the giant black thing on her left foot. As you know from the previous post, Caroline recently had surgery to remove a bunion, and today was her post-op check-up and bandage change, where we got to see firsthand the incision site and the bruising across most of her foot.

X-ray of Caroline Wise's missing bunion in Phoenix, Arizona

Now, the bone needs to grow back together. While you can’t see it in this image, there’s a screw holding things together. The screw is in there because they had to cut the bone all the way through. I asked the doctor about the overhang of bone and the pyramidal shape on the right and he explained that the body will repair those as healing progresses. She’s so happy with the results so far that we made an appointment for December to take care of the right foot.

First Time Voter

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Caroline Wise voting in an American election for the first time. Phoenix, Arizona

Exactly 60 days ago, on Friday, June 3rd, 2022, Caroline Wise became a U.S. citizen, and today, she voted for the very first time in America. She was mailed her ballot, but at least for this first vote, I knew she’d have to vote in person, and as this is a primary, I’ll wager that come November, she’ll want to vote in person for the general election, too. That’s about all I can really share about us stopping in at a nearby grade school for the occasion; maybe Caroline can share some of her thoughts?

Caroline here: I’ve lived in the States for 25+ years now, and for most of that time, my joke was “lots of taxation, no representation” because, as a resident alien, I couldn’t vote. And while I could conceivably have been voting in German elections, I decided not to since I don’t actually live there and didn’t feel I could properly assess the options. When you are a German citizen living in Germany, you are required to vote. Since the powers that be know where you live (you have to register your home address along with your tax information), they send you the invitation automatically. Nowadays, you probably have more options for absentee or early voting, but back in the day, I would show up at a local school, get a simple ballot, and put crosses into the circles with a pencil.

So, as a new citizen, I am excited to exercise my right to vote, even if this was just a primary election. I had waffled over dropping off an early ballot too long, so the plan on the day of the election was to go a little farther out on our morning walk and head to Paradise Valley Community College, which the election website stated was our closest polling site. However, on the way there, we saw volunteers setting up a polling site at Sunset Canyon Elementary, which made the process even easier. There was no line, and the check-in process was easy. We had told the folks there why this was my first election and received congratulations for my newly acquired status. Once our ballots were inserted into the counting machines, I even felt a bit emotional, which I had not anticipated. I felt proud about passing another milestone on the way to being a “real American.”