It was our farewell trip together before Sultan headed back home to Saudi Arabia to enroll in medical school…..to prepare to become my personal physician someday in the future.

Originally, we had planned a grand trip to the Oregon Coast….three weeks of fun and fellowship before his departure date. As a matter of fact, the trip was fully planned….everything was reserved….everything paid for….. And, this was not an easy task. We made the decision to take the trip much too late in the season. Take my word for it…..if you want to go to Yellowstone National Park….or if you want to stay in an Oregon State Park…..in the summertime….. you do not wait until a month before you leave to start planning and making the reservations.

ALL the yurts in EVERY state park along the Oregon Coast were already reserved. There was not a single one still available for the month of August. Actually, I wasn’t surprised…..just disappointed and a little angry at myself for such sloppy planning! There were rooms available in West Yellowstone…..but they were actually more expensive than the rooms Fayez and I had rented earlier in the year in Washington, D.C. and New York City.

After literally hours of effort, however, I was able to find adequate accommodations….mostly KOA cabins…..and some other assorted private motels and cabins….none of which were first class….and none of them on the ocean. But, at that late point, beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose! In light of the time restraints, I was actually pretty proud of myself for scraping together even such a motley collection of camping and sleeping places.

And, then….. Just as I finished the final arrangements…. It happened. The entire bottom fell out of the plans. All of the work proved to be for nothing. Sultan had learned that he had only two weeks after his last class to leave the country. His visa would expire.

I am not sure which was worse: the disappointment of having spent the time making all the reservations and seeing all of it go down the drain….or….having to take the time to go back and un-do everything….to cancel all the reservations. That is what I did, of course. The only reservation that I was unable to cancel was our hotel in Reno. Otherwise, all the campgrounds were cooperative and canceled the reservations and refunded the money. The hotel where I reserved a room in Reno had two prices…..One price….a lower price….was a non-refundable price. That, of course, is the price that I chose…..not remotely suspecting that we would be canceling the reservation. They refused to refund our money….which they had every right to do. But, on the other hand, they no doubt booked the room again…..and collected a double rent for the room.

At this point in the game, we seemed to have two choices: Completely scrap the trip. In this case, Sultan would simply come to my house and stay until it was time for him to leave. Or, we could plan a scaled-down trip that would fit into the time constraints we were now faced with. We chose to plan a new, shorter trip……this time to Colorado and southern Utah. We were able to keep the reservations we had made up through the night we would spend in Cedar City, Utah. This was helpful, because I would have to cancel only about half the reservations…..including the ill-fated stop in Reno….Sin City, Junior.

How does the old saying go? “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

It really doesn’t make much difference if we are traveling for three weeks….or one week…..or two weeks…. We need to take the same amount of stuff with us to survive. And, again, the entire task of organizing the “stuff” became my job….just like it usually is. Fayez would bring Sultan to my house on Saturday, August 13…..and we would leave on Sunday. The original plan was for them to arrive at my house around 6:00 in the afternoon. From the very beginning, I doubted if would actually happen. Sultan was scheduled to take a language placement test in the morning. The final part of the test is the oral examination….which is a one-on-one conversation with a real human being. These conversations are scheduled after the written part of the test is completed…..each conversation lasting somewhere around 20-30 minutes. If a person is lucky….he will be among the first scheduled. If he is not lucky…..it could mean a wait of a few hours before his appointment was scheduled. Well….of course….Sultan was not lucky! His oral examination was among the last of the afternoon….somewhere around 4:00 or so.

Sometime in the afternoon, Sultan called to give me the “bad news”….although, like I said, it was not entirely unexpected. Now his expected arrival time would be approximately 11:00 P.M. Really….I was disappointed, but this didn’t alter the fact that I still had to collect all the gear we were taking with us and assemble it in our front room.

I do not want to break my hand patting myself on the back…..but I am getting pretty good at this. Over the years of traveling, I have composed a list of things that we must take with us. And, I have refined it to the point where it is about 99% accurate and efficient. I even have them arranged in logical categories to minimize running back and forth. Around 1:00 or so, I began to collect all the articles. Working steadily….but at a fairly leisurely pace….I had the entire list collected, packed and sitting in the front room by 4:00. As usual the front room was a mess….crowded with suitcases, camping chairs, blankets and pillows, disposable eating utensils, the electric cooler…assorted other camping equipment…. Everything on the list.

In my original plan, I was going to wait until Sunday morning to go to Topeka to pick up the rental car. That way I could drive the rental car home….and Sultan could follow me in my car. But, after thinking about it, I decided to go ahead and pick it up on Saturday morning…..and simply leave my car at my brother’s house in Topeka. This was probably a wise decision. It was just one less thing to bother with on Sunday morning.

Now…. All that was left to do was…. Wait!

Sunday morning dawned…. As usual, Fayez was in a major rush to return to Wichita to do whatever it is that he does there….. Sultan and I started the task of packing the rental car. When we look at all the stuff sitting in the front room….on the floor, on the couch, on the coffee table, on the wood stove…..it looks like there is no way it will all fit into an intermediate size car….a Kia Sportage, in our case. But, again through experience and experimentation, I have learned that by careful planning and management…..it will all fit rather comfortably.

At about 11:00, after the joy of packing the stuff into the car had been satisfactorily completed, we came to maybe the only part of the trip that was not meticulously planned…. What to do until it was time to leave. So….. We decided to do what is the answer to almost every problem…..We decided to take a nap. Around 2:30, we decided that we had waited long enough. We turned off the air-conditioners, made sure that all the electrical appliances were turned off, stood at the doorway and contemplated if were forgetting anything….locked the door…..and drove off into the West.

Our first stop was in Wakeeney, Kansas…..about four hours west on I-70. It was a fairly easy drive….and we arrived well before sunset. I sort of wish I had made Goodland our first stop. But, too late to worry about that now. I had reserved a room in a Super 8 Motel. No problems finding it. Every motel in Wakeeney is located along I-70….and the Super 8 Motel was the first one we saw. No problems…. They were expecting us. And, our room was on the ground floor. As are most motels in small towns…..I suspect this motel was owned by the guy who checked us in. He was there late in the afternoon when we checked in…..and he was there early the next morning when we checked out.

Our choices of place to eat was limited….. No Golden Corral, no Chinese buffet…. We settled on Subway. Subways are ubiquitous…. They are everywhere. Actually we were probably lucky that it was open. It was probably somewhere around 6:30 or 7:00 when we arrived. And, before we had finished eating our sandwich….the place was abandoned….and the waitresses were already sweeping the floors and putting stuff away. But, we didn’t go there for the atmosphere….only to eat. We took a quick drive around the town. In a town the size of Wakeeney all drives around town quick, I suppose. There really wasn’t much to see. But….I am from Valley Falls….and in comparison to what there is to see in Valley Falls, the trip was actually probably a “long” one.

Monday morning we were actually awake and ready to leave almost on time….at 8:00. I told Sultan he could drive until we got near the mountains. So, leaving Wakeeney behind, we set off for our first day in the Rocky Mountains.

Our first “official” act of the morning was to stop at the Colorado state sign to take pictures. Eastern Colorado really isn’t much different from Western Kansas…..except perhaps a bit more desolate. We stopped at the Colorado Welcome Center…several miles inside the state….mostly to pick up a Colorado state map….but also to stretch our legs and use the restroom. One of my Golden Rules of Traveling is: Always use the restroom when one is available! You never know how far it will be to the next one.

 

 

 

 

 

With Sultan still driving, we continued on toward the mountains. Somewhere along the way…..in the town of Lyons, Colorado, we stopped again to buy something for lunch. By chance….we chose to stop at a natural food store….which happened to sell a variety of sandwiches.

 

 

 

 

Finally we approached Estes Park…… We were getting very close to the mountains…..and this is when I got behind the steering wheel and took over the driving responsibilities…. It is not that I didn’t trust Sultan to drive…. Well….maybe just a little bit….. But, I have had much more experience driving the mountains over the years…..and I probably trusted myself just a little bit more! After stocking up on groceries for our evening meal…..we started our ascent into the Rocky Mountains.

The climb is slow and subtle at first, but suddenly…..we are climbing…..climbing high enough to see the majestic peaks and valleys….maneuvering the sharp curves….the switchbacks…..

I have driven through Rocky Mountain National Park many times……maybe 25 or 30 times…..but the breathtaking splendor never ceases to escape me. And, this year, it was double fun. I had Sultan to share it with. This was his first trip through the mountains of the U.S.A……and I suspect they were by far the tallest mountains he has ever seen. At any rate, he was fascinated by the surroundings…..the mountains, the forests, the lakes, the rivers flowing through the distant valleys.

Sultan said he had driven through mountains in Jordan…..but they do not compare to the Rocky Mountains. Trail Ridge Road….U. S. Highway 34….. winds for 77 miles through some of the highest elevations in the nation. Traveling from east to west, as Sultan and I were doing, the Trail Ridge Road starts in Estes Park, Colorado, and officially ends in Grand Lake, Colorado, on the western end. At around 11,500 feet the evergreen forests suddenly disappear and the landscape gives way to a vast tundra as the highway ascents to an elevation of more than 12,000 feet above sea level. Although the tundra is devoid of trees, there are colorful wild flowers blanketing the thin layer of unfrozen soil…a sight almost as spectacular as the evergreen forests.

By comparison, the highest mountain in Jordan is just a little more than 6,000 feet. No wonder Sultan was impressed and excited. The highway is closed for the winter months…sometimes from late September until early summer…..because of the deep snow which covers the road during these months. I know this as fact. At least two times, we have had to turn around and retrace our route because the highway was closed.

I pointed out the tall poles that line the highway for much of the 77 miles. These poles….probably 12 – 15 feet high have been placed there to mark the outlines of the highway when it covered with snow….a fact that impressed Sultan.

Unlike the trip I took with Fayez, Sultan and I stopped often to take pictures. And, picture taking opportunities exist around every curve. Unless you are completely oblivious to the surroundings….or rather callous toward them….the temptation to stop and take pictures is almost magnetic. And, the U. S. Park Service certainly recognizes this….and has provided an abundance of stopping places along the route to pull over, get out and take pictures. Not to mention their thoughtfulness in providing rest rooms stops along the way. Sultan and I took advantage of many….if not most….of such places as we journeyed along.

We were eager participants in the spectacular drama…..not merely passive observers. We had come to enjoy this experience….to be a part of it…..to assimilate it…..to form memories….. And, that is what we did. We stopped often, not only to take pictures, but sometimes just to stare at the breathtaking panorama that lay before us.

But….at some point, Sultan and I recognized that we also had a schedule to maintain. Somewhere near the summit, we agreed that we had taken enough pictures….that we had genuinely experienced Rocky Mountain National Park….and it became rather urgent that we reach our campground before the office had closed for the day.

 

 

 

 

At some point…..and I am not sure where that was…..I had even called ahead to the campground office to tell them that there was an outside possibility that we may be late….especially if their office closed at 5:00. But, we were relived to learn that the office would actually be open until 7:00. Just to be on the safe side, I asked them to deliver two bundles of wood to our campsite….just in case we didn’t make it on time.

It was also at this point that Sultan began asking if he could drive. I had some misgivings about letting Sultan drive in the mountains. He had no prior experience in this kind of driving, and I was more than a little concerned about him getting his first experience at 10,000 feet above sea level. One mis-turn….and 10,000 feet is a long ways to fall. That would probably not make the rental car company very happy. Nor would it be very beneficial to our health.

However, Sultan has a long history of being my driver. Long….if you consider 10 months to be a long time. If I recall correctly, he began driving my car on the very first night he stayed at my house. Fayez had bought him to my house at Thanksgiving. While Fayez found it necessary to stay at home and study for his final exams, Sultan and I took off for a tour of the area. That very first night….again with Fayez staying at home to study….we decided to go to Topeka. Well…..I decided we were going to Topeka, at least.

 

 

 

 

This was back in the days when Sultan spoke absolutely no English! Our simple communication was done through the translation programs on our cell phones. Sultan didn’t even understand such simple commands as “Turn right” or Turn left”….. And, some of the results were rather harrowing…. To me, at least. But, in the past ten months, I have driven hundreds of miles with Sultan…. I am still alive to talk about it.   Actually, he has proved to be a very competent and safe driver. And, I often simply rely on him to do the driving while he is around.

So…..I handed him the keys to the rental car and walked around to the passenger side of the car. Not only did he drive the remainder of that afternoon…..but he drove for the remainder of the trip….and did an admirable job, too.

By this time, it was getting late enough in the afternoon that our major goal became to make it to our campground before the office closed at 7:00 P.M. It would be a mistake to say we did not make any additional stop to take pictures…..because we did. But, basically we made steady progress toward the campground. Since we had not stopped at the entrance of the park at the east entrance near Estes Park to take pictures, it became important that we stop and take pictures of the “Rocky Mountain National Park” sign at the west entrance. We we got closer and closer to leaving the park, our full attention was not focused on the scenery…or the wildlife…. It was focused on finding the sign so we could take pictures, which both of us deemed to be very important.

I have driven this highway many times before, so I was absolutely sure there was a sign. I was only hoping that we had not driven past it….undetected. Conversation came to a halt as both of us constantly scored the landscape for a glimpse of the sign. It was a relief when we finally spotted other cars stopped for the same purpose as we had in mind. With the pictures taken….and our first day of sightseeing behind us….we were content to drive on to the campground.

 

 

 

 

We arrived at the campground about twenty minutes before the office was due to close…plenty of time to pick up the key….and also to buy a couple bundles of firewood…the firewood that I had ordered, but had not yet been delivered to our camping site.

On two or three previous occasions, I have stayed at the Elk Creek Campground. On all the prior stays, however, were in the off-season….the middle of May or in the late summer….or mid autumn. During all of these stays, we were among the only people at the campground….lonely indeed. We were always given one of three cabins at the front of the campground. In fact, I had no idea that any additional cabins even existed. To my dismay, was about to learn the truth: Behind trees and brush was a world I never knew existed….a rather expansive area for RV’s, tent campers…..and additional cabins.

The cabin we were assigned to was one of five or six cabins which were grouped rather tightly together. In contrast to many mountain campgrounds, there was little privacy…. No trees or shrubs separating the cabins….and providing at least a hint of privacy. But….here we were. Fortunately, it turned out that the occupants of the other cabins all seemed to be members of an extended family…..or at least a group of people who knew each other. And, they all seemed to congregate at a cabin across a road of sorts. We were rather spooked out by an old person who sat on the front porch of one of the cabins…..and never took his (or maybe it was a her) eyes off what we were doing. And, also by another couple….overweight and slovenly….who sat at their picnic table and smoked a constant chain of cigarettes. I told Sultan that maybe we should provide some entertainment for them….. Maybe a few songs….or some dancing…..of maybe tell some jokes….. They would have made a good….and apparently very interested…audience. But….as I told Sultan…..They probably considered us to the unwelcome intruders in their little community.

This night Sultan got his first opportunity to prepare a meal over our campfire. And, as I had anticipated….it was delicious and worthy enough to rank among the ultimate culinary masterpieces.

Sometime that first night of camping…..high in the Rocky Mountains…..sitting in front campfire talking and laughing….there seemed to be a subtle change in Sultan’s attitude toward mountains. Mountains seemed to have less of an attraction….or less magnetism….than they previously did. Looking back at the trip…..and after talking about it a few times…..I think that in his mind he envisioned Rocky Mountain National Park at the pinnacle of any experience we could possibly have in the mountains. I think he was misled by the grand name of “National Park”….. Surely nothing can surpass a “National Park”….. He was apprehensive that perhaps the drive to the top of Mt. Evans would be a let down…..a disappointment.

At any rate, as we were discussing the next day’s schedule, he showed less enthusiasm for driving through the mountains. Our premier event for the following day was a trip to the top of Mt. Evans…..the highest highway in North America. Mt. Evans is truly one of the most spectacular drives that I have ever experienced. It is breathtaking….. If I had to choose between Rocky Mountain National Park and Mt. Evans…..Rocky Mountain National Park would be left languishing in the rear view mirror

However, as we talked, Sultan began to show concern about getting to our next campground in time to spend a leisurely evening….whether we would have adequate time to prepare supper…. He would have willingly done anything I decided to do. But….I, too, wanted to arrive at our next campsite in plenty of time to unpack the car….to take a nap….to move through the evening at a comfortable pace…. So, rather reluctantly, we made the decision to forgo the drive to the top of Mt. Evans and proceed directly to our next destination….Buena Vista, Colorado.

Sultan’s premonition of never seeming to have sufficient time in the evening proved to be true during the entire trip. I don’t know what it was. When Fayez and I travel together, supper is prepared….dishes are done (thrown into a trash bag)…..meal equipment store back in the car…..and we are relaxing in front of the campfire by 8:00 or 8:30. Man…..to describe the evenings that Sultan and I spent in this manner would simply not be telling the truth! We were in the midst of preparing our meals when all the other campers had apparently given up and gone to bed. We were only starting to eat our supper as they lay in their beds snoring. A lot of the problem….if we can indeed call it a problem….was the fact that Fayez and I have developed a rhythm….a routine….for preparing our evening meal. This is something that will develop naturally as Sultan and I travel more together in the future.

Tuesday morning was sunny and crisp as we departed the campground and drove south along the shores of Grand Lake toward Granby. Even though we had taken our rice maker….and our coffee maker….with us, we never once used either of them. Again, in a sharp contrast to the habits of Fayez and me. Maybe we simply found it easier and more convenient to stop and buy coffee….and drink it as we drove along. In Granby, we stopped at the Java Lava Coffee Shop to order a cup of coffee. The coffee shop had outdoor tables, so having already cut roughly three hours from our schedule by canceling our trip to the top of Mt. Evans, we ordered our coffee and a pastry and sat outside in the morning sunshine to enjoy a second breakfast.

Even though Granby is basically a tourist town, situated at the southern tip of one of the favorite fishing vacation spots in the USA…..Sultan and I seemed to be the only tourists to buy coffee. Everybody else seemed to know each other….and be in a hurry to go somewhere. Probably to work. We sat, drank our coffee, ate our pastry….watched the people and they came and went. And, soon we were back in the car again…..with Sultan still the driver and me still at the ever watchful co-pilot….and heading south toward I-70.

We drove through some more beautiful, rugged mountain terrain…..over Bethold Pass….through Fraser, once called the coldest city in the USA….past the Winter Park ski area…..and finally arrived at the junction of I-70. And….. How much fun could we have without a slight mix up in our directions? We….actually, I will blame it on Sultan, just for convenience’s sake….took the wrong exit onto I-70, and we drove a couple miles before we (I will take the credit here.) realized that we were heading east….back toward Kansas….and not toward the west, where we wanted to go.

That problem was corrected easily enough, and soon we were heading toward the west in search of our next exit. I had planned that we take the exit to the south immediately before we reached the Eisenhower Tunnel….but (and this was probably my fault) we missed it. But, no real damage was done. I had sort of wanted to avoid the Eisenhower Tunnel….the highest point on the entire route of I-70….because the tunnel is about 1.7 miles long…..and even though it is 4 lanes for the entire length, I was apprehensive about letting Sultan drive it.

 

 

 

 

The Eisenhower Tunnel is well lighted and the lanes are relatively wide….and there is a speed limit….so I need not have worried. Sultan handled it like a pro. What I am trying to say is…. Here I am. We made it through with no ill-effects…..no dents in the car…. Having made it safely through the tunnel, we proceeded on to Dillon, at which point we got onto Colorado 9. We drove through the ski resort town of Breckenridge without stopping and proceeded to our next destination of Buena Vista, Colorado.

The drive down Highway 9, later to become US 285 and US 24, toward Buena Vista and Salida is beautiful…..but it does not have the excitement or drama of Trail Ridge Road….or even the highway from Granby to I-70. The highway is flatter…straighter…easier to drive. There are fewer “photo ops”….at least, for the kind of pictures that I wanted to take. Sultan really didn’t care one way or the other. He just drove until I said, “Stop.” And, even then: Sometimes he did….and sometimes he didn’t.

The only major stop we made along the way was in Leadville…..located slightly off the highway. Our first mission was to buy food for supper. So…. We stopped at the only supermarket I know in Leadville…..and it may be the only supermarket in town, for all I know.

And, then we drove downtown. Leadville is an old gold and silver mining town, settled in the late 1800’s. It is the home of the Unsinkable Molly Brown who married an extremely wealthy miner….and a lucky one, too….and then went on to become a prominent socialite and social activist. Her fame came when she was one of the survivors of the ill-fated Titanic…..and after her death in the 1930’s a very popular Broadway play was written about her life….and subsequently was made into a movie.

The town is the highest incorporated town in the U. S. A……with an altitude of about 10,200 feet above sea level. After we parked the car, got out and started walking….we didn’t need any reminder of this fact. The air is indeed “thin”….it is more difficult to breathe. It is a place where it is wise to simply take your time and not get in a hurry. While we were there, the thought crossed my mind that I wonder what it is like for the members of the high school track team….especially those kids who participate in the various running events…. I suppose they become acclimated to lack of oxygen. And, I can imagine they must have a definite advantage over kids from other schools at lower elevations who come there to participate in track meets.

Sultan and I didn’t bother check out the theory. We walked through most of the downtown area…..which doesn’t really cover a lot of territory. The current population of Leadville is around 2600 permanent residents….a remarkable decline from its population in earlier days when it was a leading mining center….and cultural center. By design, the architecture style is in keeping with its history. It is a quaint, picturesque little town, with an ample supply of bars, restaurants, coffee shops, souvenirs stores….everything one would expect of a little tourist town.

We walked up one side of the street, peering into windows out of curiosity….and then down the other side….doing basically the same thing. In quaint little town like this, I always feel like buying sometjomg….or sitting in one of the little bars…. Something, just so I can experience being there. Of course, Sultan was too young for the bars….and it was only mid-afternoon. But, on the other hand, as the lyrics of the song say, “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere.” We didn’t stop in a bar.

Sultan was getting hungry, so we began looking for a suitable place to eat. After considering a few possibilities….they were either closed or too expensive….we settled on a place called “Cookies with Altitude”…..whatever that means. The “cafe” or coffee shop….or whatever it was called…..is merely a hole-in the wall little place. There was seating for maybe 10 or 12 people….if they sat close together.

But….it was a popular place…. Customers….take-out customers….came and went at a steady pace. However, Sultan and I found a vacant table. After some consideration, I ordered a Reuben sandwich. I am not sure what Sultan ordered….. Although he still tells me how delicious it was! My Reuben was OK…. But, in general, to me….food is food. Sultan fell in love with the place….and its food….calling it one of the best places he has ever eaten. So….if we ever happen to make a return visit to Leadville, which I am sure we will do one of these days…..”Cookies with Altitude” will at the top of our “must go” list.

After a semi-leisurely lunch at the “Cookies with Altitude” place, we took a couple more pictures and agreed to move on. I had wanted to take a picture of a couple historic displays. But….both times Sultan drove right past them….I am never sure if he does not hear me….does not understand me….or is simply ignoring me…. Fayez had told me the first day I met Sultan to be careful. Sultan is very likely to smile and shake his head “YES” even though he has no idea what I am saying to him. Well…we passed that stage a long time ago, I think. Oh well. No big deal. I have already taken pictures of them several times before.

We drove on down to our campground in Buena Vista….found our cabin….and set up camp for the night. Although the drive from I-70 to Buena Vista is a pleasant….even beautiful….drive, it is not as dramatic as driving high in the mountains. We may have stopped to take a couple pictures…..but mostly, we were eager to reach the KOA campground.

The following day, we drove on to the west….and south…..at least that was our intention. Our campground was located in Richland, Utah. I knew from the minute we typed our destination into the GPS that it did not look right! And….I made a mistake that I have always suspected….always declared….have always accused…. We decided to follow the route the GPS had mapped out for us. I mean after all…. Isn’t the GPS the all-knowing, accurate, final authority on driving directions? Well…. Let me tell you very emphatically! No, it is not! I knew from the very beginning that we were being led far astray! And, I should have simply ignored the GPS….and did the common sense thing: Follow the map. But, I didn’t. And…. It cost us. It cost us probably around 200 miles….and perhaps 4 hours! Once we had definitely realized that the GPS was wrong….it was far too late to do anything except to follow the route it dictated. Even Sultan….a firm believer and worshiper of the GPS….finally realized that we were being unnecessarily led far off the quickest and most common sense route.

 

 

 

 

 

Even after we reached our destination….after dark….the GPS was not able to locate our campground….. Another hour wasted. We had planned…and expected…to reach the campground around 5:00….plenty of time to relax, take a nap, set up the laptop….prepare and eat supper. It was after 9:00 when we finally got there. We were both tired and worn out. And….I? I was not very happy….and my faith in putting my trust in a GPS had sunk to rock bottom. It was too late to even consider starting a fire….getting supper…. Almost all the other campers are already gone to bed. We stopped at a Chinese buffet….ordered a generous supply of food…. That became our supper that discouraging night.

 

 

 

 

 

Our destination for Saturday was Capitol Reef National Park, located in the southeast part of Utah…..maybe 50 miles from our campground. Of course, by this time, the landscape had undergone a remarkable transformation. The terrain slowly morphed from mountains and lush forests to dry, semi-arid desert. I say “semi-arid” because Sultan informed me that this really was not a desert….at least, not the kind he is accustomed to in Saudi Arabia. I don’t know…. It looked pretty much like a desert to me. But, I suppose it is all a matter of perspective.

Capitol Reef National Park is an area of unusual and imposing rock formations. Most of the landscape ranges from desert tan to a reddish color….with various shapes of barren mountains…..small mountains….to huge, randomly place boulders. Huge jagged rock formations thrust upward from the earth into the sky, adding to the drama and beauty of the area.

From the many observation points, we were able to look out over vast canyons, stretching for miles between the mountains and rock formations. It is difficult to imagine that land like this could sustain life. But, there is ample evidence that tribes of Indians once occupied this area. But, today, the area is largely devoid of people. The area receives somewhere around an average of 7 inches of rain a year. Scattered throughout the panorama are scrubby vegetation….mostly in the form of stunted bushes and trees. One can only imagine that the roots of these plants must dig far down into the rock for any sustaining moisture.

Sultan and I stopped often to take pictures. Just like Colorado….but for entirely different reasons….the scenery is alluring and mesmerizing. It can be argued….at at least Sultan can argue….that in Colorado, a mountain is a mountain. Especially after driving through them for a day. They are beautiful; they are magnificent….but, in the end, most of them look pretty much alike. The rock formations and scenery in Capitol Reef National Park is constantly changing…. Yeah, maybe they are all just rock formations. But….they are all different. If each scene was a pictures….each of them would have been painted by a different artist.

Irrigate the desert….and it will bloom. That is true at the park headquarters. This brief interlude was like time spent in the Garden of Eden. Suddenly….with no transition….we were treated to the sight of a thriving orchard….in the middle of the desert. There are also lush green lawns for the picnic area and the campground. For Sultan, I am sure it brought back some nostalgic memories…..an oasis in the middle of the desert. Except this one had no camels.

We retraced our route and headed out of the park….destined for out next campground in Cedar City, Utah. We stopped along the way to eat lunch….and then continued more or less uninterrupted to the campground. The KOA in Cedar City is located in a more or less urban area….not that Cedar City is by any means a large city. It has a population of approximately 30,000 people. And, like almost all the small towns we saw in Utah, the home and lawns were remarkable well kept and clean. Even the poorest areas (that we saw) were kept neat and the lawns were mowed and the yards were trash-free. I don’t know for sure….but I suspect this in some way reflects the philosophy and work ethic of the Mormon people who make up the majority of the population.

The next day was a travel day. We left the desert rock formations and made our way back eventually back toward the mountains and forests of Colorado…..where we would spend the next two night in Gunnison. The day was unremarkable…. The trip consisted mainly of getting on I-70, heading east until we reached Grand Junction, then traveling south-southeast on US 50 until we reached Gunnison. Most of the day was spent answering questions from the “Book of Questions” we had taken along with us. The most interesting discovery of the day was that we were now traveling the highway we SHOULD have taken when we first entered Utah…. But…. That was in the past….and we tried to forget

Our two nights at the Gunnison KOA was unremarkable. I could have been the worst KOA we stayed at during this trip. The cabins were sandwiched close together….with no vegetation or barrier delineating the space between them. At first, it appeared that our cabin had no fire ring. But, Sultan, discovered what was probably our fire ring behind our cabin. That in itself is not such a bad thing. But, there was an RV parked very close to our cabin. It was occupied by a woman and her dog. Apparently she was at least a semi-permanent resident of the campground. She had her own table…chair….cooking equipment…. And, it was all uncomfortably close to what Sultan claimed was our fire ring.

Personally, I did not feel comfortable using it…. It was almost like we were intruding on her space. But, it became apparent that she….and her dog….were only there in the day time….and they were gone at night. Apparently, she had a night job somewhere nearby. Sultan had no such misgivings….and he proceeded to prepare the food….and then bring it to me as I sat in my camping chair in front of the cabin. The second night, when it was apparent she was not at home…..I relented and took my chair around back, too. I would have been very ill at ease if the woman had been sitting six feet from us, however.

We spent the entire day of Saturday in Gunnison doing….well, not much of anything. In fact, right now, I would be hard pressed to say what we did in the morning. That is how exciting it must have been. I had planned a circular trip through some high mountains that eventually led to Telluride…another historic former mining town….now a ski retreat for the rich and famous….and then back to Gunnison. But, I had already figured out that Sultan was getting tired of mountains…and was not as enthusiastic about the trip as I was.

In the afternoon, not wanting to waste the entire day, we got into the car and drove back to the west of Gunnison to look at the Blue Mesa Reservoir. It wasn’t much….but at least, we were doing something. The reservoir stretches for several miles along US 50. I had driven past in a few times in prior years, but it never seemed worthy of a prolonged inspection. I did, however, find an old picture of the bridge, which I took on a trip in 1986. The bridge hasn’t changed much…..but I still can’t determine from which side of the reservoir the picture was taken.

On this afternoon, though, we gave the reservoir and the surrounding area a closer look…and even took a few excursions off the highway to check out the scenery. To Sultan, it was merely one of my picture-taking urges. But, when I travel….I want to see as much as I can….and take pictures so I can remember it later on. Like now, for example!

We returned to our cabin….and after making sure the lady and her dog were nowhere around…..we moved our camping chairs to the back of the cabin and prepared supper.

Our trip was coming to an end. Sunday would be our final full day in Colorado…..and we would spend it in Cripple Creek. That would be a fateful day….more accurately, a fateful night….for me. If I had know then what I know now….the “Cripple Creek Incident” would have never taken place.

But, Sunday morning we innocently packed our camping gear back into the car, bid farewell to Gunnison…..and enthusiastically set out for our final day in the mountains. We arrived at our campground near Cripple Creek fairly early in the afternoon. The campground was located high in the Rocky Mountains….close to 10,000 feet above sea level….and was situated on a rather barren, wind-swept plain. There really wasn’t much there….in the way of vegetation, that is. No trees, no shrubs, no bushes…. We were the only people occupying cabins that night.

It was still early in the afternoon when we finished unpacking our stuff. We climbed back into the car and drive toward the little town of Cripple Creek….only a few miles away. Among our goals was to find a place to eat lunch. We had taken sliced meat, sliced cheese, peanut butter and jelly with us. On all our trips Fayez and I took together, that was the staple of our lunch… We faithfully stopped in mid-day and prepared our sandwiches before journeying onward. It became a way of life….or traveling….for us. But, for Sultan and me, these products remained in our cooler….untouched….for the duration of the trip. It was just another of the differences between traveling with Fayez…and traveling with Sultan.

As we approached downtown Cripple Creek, we discovered that there was a motorcycle rally taking place….and the entire downtown area had been blocked off to accommodate the motorcyclists…and their biker chicks, I suppose. We briefly considered “crashing the party”…..and walking a block or two downtown. We even found a parking lot and parked the car. But, with second thoughts….and with the air already difficult to breathe…we changed our minds….got back into the Kia….and went in search of a grocery store to buy food for our evening meal.

I learned after I returned home, that this was just not like any normal motorcycle rally….where men and women of all walks of life and all professions come together to share their love of motorcycles…..and probably an equal love of smoking a little marijuana….which, incidentally….is legal in Colorado. The rally that had closed off downtown Cripple Creek….and caused us more than a little inconvenience….was a convention of Hell’s Angels! For those of you who have not heard…..Hell’s Angels is not an “organization” or a “club”…..it is a motorcycle gang! And, it often lives up to its reputation of being a violent gang. So….maybe it was best that we didn’t venture into their midst. Neither Sultan nor I radiate the appearance of the prototype of a member of a motorcycle gang…. I don’t think we would fit into any sort of gang, now that I think of it.

The problem of where to eat lunch still remained, however. We set off again through the mountains and drove perhaps 30 miles to Green Mountain in search of a restaurant. After pacifying ourselves with lunch, we turned back to the campground. It was a cool night…..but with no wind, the air was crisp and clean….and the smoke from the fire curled upward…..then seemed to follow us no matter where we placed our chairs.

This, of course, was the final meal that Sultan would prepare for us during this trip….and he spared no time or effort. As I had become accustomed, his final feast won accolades….at least, with my taste buds.

It would also be the final time Sultan and I could sit in front of the fire and relax and talk…. until he returns from Saudi Arabia next year to spend the summer. It was a cool, still night…. Nobody else seemed to be awake…. Nobody had rented the cabins near us…. Shortly after our arrival, a man riding a motorcycle drove past….stopped at one of the tent sites nearby….and proceeded to set up his tent….a rather elaborate tent, at that. A few minutes later, he walked past carrying two bundle of wood….. Ahh…he is going to sit in front of his fire….maybe fix his supper there. But….the man with the motorcycle and the tent was nowhere to be seen…. The two bundles of firewood sat unused on the ground….while our fire burned brightly in the dark. But…we had a long day of driving in front of us…. We needed some sleep.

What transpired next was perhaps one of the most miserable nights of my entire life. I have been to Colorado many times….too many times to even try to count. I have camped in Colorado….again, too many times to count. Never before did I have any problems breathing…. Well, of course, the air is “thinner” and running around aimlessly is never a good idea. Yeah….I know. I am getting older now. But so is everybody.

During the daylight hours when I was standing up or moving around, the problem was minimal. But….I think it was probably in Gunnison….suddenly I began to have problems breathing….at night….while I was trying to sleep. The first night, it was bad…but no so bad that I didn’t get some sleep…..maybe three hours, at the most. The second night in Gunnison was much worse. I found myself gasping for breath….literally gasping for breath….as I tried to sleep. No matter which side I lay on….or whether I lay flat on my back…. I simply could not breathe for any extended period of time. There was no point my waking Sultan…. There was nothing he could do about it…. So, I got up….pulled on some clothes….groped around for my jacked….picked up the car keys….and climbed into the front passenger seat of the car.

Actually, this wasn’t much of an improvement. I would fall asleep briefly…..but awaken suddenly….unable to breathe….gasping for breath.

But…..the night in Cripple Creek: Sultan took the mattress off the unused bunk….and put it on my bed….making sure the front of the mattress was raised above the level of the headboard….. The theory was that perhaps I could sleep in an “almost sitting up” position…almost like sleeping in my recliner….so more air could get into my lungs.

Certainly Sultan’s sentiment was thoughtful….even the reasoning seemed solid…. But, the reality simply was not there. I lay down….hopeful that would be able to sleep… But, sleep did not come….. Now, we were at an even higher elevation…. There was less oxygen to breathe….. Sleep did not come….. For the duration of the night, I found myself gasping for air…. It was a long, lonely night…..a miserable night….a rather frightening night….. I got up three or four times, walked outside….but the night was cold…too cold to sit in a camping chair…. I had considered sitting in the front seat of the car again…. But….Why would that work this time, if it didn’t work last time? When there was even less oxygen to breathe?

So….the night dragged slowly by. I would close my eye momentarily….perhaps drift into a few seconds of sleep…..and then awaken suddenly, unable to breathe.

It was a real joy when 6:30 arrived…. A reasonable time to get up….get dressed….and turn on the lights….and awaken Sultan…. Sultan, of course, had been completely unaware of what had happened during the night. There was no point awakening him….making the night miserable to both of us. Besides, he had a day of driving ahead of him. He couldn’t afford to be worn out and sleepy.

It was a memorable way to spend our final night of camping….but not memorable in a way I had hoped for….. Overall, it did not diminish the fun and the good time we had. At the most…. It was a lesson learned. I will never camp at such high altitudes again.

Another lesson I learned: Take my breathing device with me when I travel. I don’t know if it would have helped in this situation or not…. The breathing device forces air into my lungs…..but it is the same air that it gets from the atmosphere. So….maybe that would not have been of any value. But…at least, there would be been a constant flow of air into my lungs…. Oh well… Like Kris Kristofferson said, “It’s over….and nobody wins.”

The next morning…..or at least, it was the next morning for Sultan….we wasted no time packing our belongings….and headed down the mountain…..and more oxygen.

I had sort of planned to visit the Air Force Academy in Colorado Spring before we started back home. But, then I stopped to consider the implications and ramifications of such a visit….somehow it just didn’t seem like a very good idea any longer. First of all…Just imagine: A rental car pulling up to the front gate….packed completely full of “stuff”, a young Arab man, with only a learner’s permit, driving the car.

Well….No….I am not that naive.. I would have been driving the car! But, on a day after a completely sleepless night, I just was not looking forward to any possible complications….or delays…..or hassles…. I could pictures us….standing beside the car with our hands on the roof…..with all the junk stacked along side….while guards went through each and every item. (Not finding anything, of course.) So, I decided to simply continue eastward on our journey back home.

We drove north east on US 24 toward Limon, Colorado, where we picked up good old I-70…..and headed back toward Kansas. We were back on the wide dusty plains again….with good old oxygen-laden air….wide-open, tree-less landscape…. We knew we were almost back home again.

Our final night was spent in Goodland, Kansas, where we had reservations in a Super 8 Motel. We arrive in the middle of the afternoon, with plenty of time to spare before darkness fell upon us. The sight of a bed was too tempting to resist…. Forty-eight hours with no sleep is a long time….. I had no problem falling asleep….blessed with an abundant supply of oxygen. When I woke up, Sultan was still in a state of half-sleep…but soon both of us were awake and somewhat alert…..trying to decide what to do and where to go next.

Shortly after we arrived at the motel, the skies began to darken as thick, threatening clouds rolled in. Tornado warning and severe thunderstorm warnings began to appear on my cell phone. Luckily….for us, at least, the tornado warnings were for points east. This is fortunate, because storms, particularly, tornadoes, rarely move from east to west. I was fairly confident that the storms….the tornadoes, at any rate….posed no problem for us. But….that didn’t prevent a torrential rain from pelting us.

As we stood looking at the stood in front of our motel room looking upward at the clouds, a woman and her son were also nervously gazing toward the sky, too. She indicated that she was not from Kansas….but they had heard that Kansas was the “tornado state”….and she was visibly worried about her immediate safety. I hope we were somewhat successful in reassuring her that she had nothing to be concerned about. That any tornado threat was already to the east of us…..and that is where it would stay. That is how watching the “Wizard of Oz” too many times will affect you, I suppose. And… we felt….at least, I felt….like a wise old Kansan…wise to the ways of the weather.

We rolled into home about 4:00 on Tuesday afternoon….a sort of bittersweet moment. Happy to be off the road…..but sad that Sultan’s visit was quickly approaching an end. We drove directly to my neighbor’s house, picked up the mail…..and then home and started unpacking the car. Unpacking the car went very quickly….much faster than all the work it took to assemble everything. Not having anything in the house to eat, we drove to Meriden and ate supper at Subway.

Wednesday, we picked up my old Suzuki, returned the rental car…..and proceeded directly to Hutchinson, where we would meet up with Fayez in the parking lot of our usual motel.

Sultan packed his luggage into the trunk of Fayez’s car…..and they drove off into the proverbial sunset. But….the sun will rise again next summer when Sultan comes to spend his three months summer vacation…..

When I think of Oklahoma City, I am reminded of the phrase, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

No…..nothing mysterious or clandestine. But, the only place I know….and can drive directly to…..in Oklahoma City is the McDonalds on North Highway I-35. That has always been my drop-off and pick-up destination for Sultan.

It is four and a half hours from my house…..but, it a straight shot. Once I get on the Kansas Turnpike in Topeka, it is a straight line. I can’t miss it…..unless I get lost in one of the service areas!

My latest…..and obviously my final….visit was a long four day weekend in August. I say “final” visit, because Sultan must return to Saudi Arabia at the end of his current language course.

As always, it was a joyous meeting. Almost any encounter with Sultan is happy and joyous. That is simply the kind of person he is…..bright, happy, smiling, positive, upbeat…..

His current landlord agreed to bring him to the McDonalds so I would not have to drive into Oklahoma City….something that I really do not feel would be safe for me to do. On this trip, I experienced a very fortunate…and lucky….coincidence. The hotel where I had booked a room was adjacent to McDonalds…..right across the street. Talk about good fortune! I immediately texted Sultan and told him to meet me in the parking lot of the Days Inn Motel. So….I suppose we can say that I actually didn’t meet him at McDonalds this time…..but at the Days Inn Motel…..another place I can add to my short list of places I can drive directly to in Oklahoma City.

After getting settled in our motel room….and enjoying some welcome relief from the sun…..we set off to explore Oklahoma City…..with Sultan driving, of course. I have driven through Oklahoma City a few times on my way to somewhere else. The only other time I can recall being in Oklahoma City was at a cross-country meet many, many years ago. Please don’t ask me where it was….or where we stayed…..or who was with me at the time….or even how they scored in the cross-country meet. For some reason, that information is completely blocked from my memory. The one…and only….thing I remember was touring the Cowboy Hall of Fame. For some reason, that sounded like a fun thing to do. But….where is the Cowboy Hall of Fame? What did we see there? I do not have a clue. So….as maybe you see, my knowledge of Oklahoma City was rather limited. Non-existent, in fact.

So….for that Friday afternoon, I left the sightseeing decisions to Sultan. After some thought, he decided to drive to Lake Hefner. Lake Hefner was a surprise for me. I had no idea such a large lake lay within the city limits of Oklahoma City. The lake covers more than 2500 acres and has about 18 miles of shore line. Actually, it looks much like a miniature Great Lake. On this sunny Friday afternoon, is was a busy place. People were walking, jogging, exercising their dogs, boating, picnicking, watching their kids play in the many playground areas, sitting on park benches….or just milling around in general….like us. Of course, there were the usual redneck teenagers driving over the many trails….showing off in their “hot” cars…..or at least, what they thought were hot cars.

Sultan and I drove around the lake in our definitely NOT hot car. We stopped occasionally to walk to the water’s edge and to take some pictures. But mostly we just drove around and looked. Our longest stop was at an impressive monument with a USA flag in its center. It was located on the very edge of the water, and it looked like a good photo opportunity. But, as is so many times the case, the space had already been appropriated by some teenagers or young adults…..and they appeared in no hurry to vacate their position….as they sat directly in the middle of the monument….talking loudly and laughing and trying to impress each other.

As we walked slowly back to our car, we watched the fishermen along the lake casting their lines into the water….and slowly reeling them back. Sultan found this to be much more fascinating than I did….. So we sat on a bench to rest and to watch the fishermen. As we sat watching a father and his son….both Mexican….the father looked at us….and then said something to his son. The kid approached Sultan and asked him if he would like to fish.

Sultan had told me several times that he would like to go fishing. I was never very encouraging about his desires. First of all, he would have to buy a fishing license. Then he would have to buy the fishing equipment. And, I suppose it would help if he actually knew how to use the equipment…..how to cast the line, what bait to use….. And, finally: I think fishing is boring….actually sort of a waste of time. I used to go fishing a lot right after I moved to my house. I fished in ponds; I fished on the banks of the Delaware River; I fished from the small boat that I owned at the time; I set lines in the river and checked them regularly. I have never caught a fish in my entire life. Not even one! So…..maybe you can understand why I am not an enthusiastic fisherman…..why I think it boring and a waste of time. If I want fish…. There is always WalMart! That is a sure thing.

At first, Sultan shook his head and said, “No, thank you.” But, then he looked at me….and I shook my head Yes….and said, “Yeah, go ahead and try it.” Sultan told the kid that he had never gone fishing before, but the little kid told him he would show him how. Casting a line into the water from a spin reel is an art….and it requires some skill timing and practice. The kid explained to Sultan how to hold the rod…and how to hold the line until the last second….before releasing it. This was something that was completely foreign to Sultan. He had ever held a rod and reel before…..and the skill seemed to elude him. His timing was off….the line never did sail gracefully out into the lake.

However, the kid was very patient. He never seemed to tire of explaining it “one more time”……along with a skilled demonstration. The boy was probably only around 10 or 11 year old….maybe even younger. But, he handled the rod and reel like a pro….and gracefully cast the line into the lake with no effort. But….Sultan is from the desert. He did not grow up fishing. This was a skill that he was not born with. He just did not seem to be able to coordinate his hand, the reel and the line.

I sat on the bench and watched….rather helplessly. Once upon a time….and not so long ago, considering everything…..I used to be able to also cast a line into the river with skill and ease. But….it has been too long ago. I would have been no help if I had intervened and tried to help. So….I sat and watched. Finally, I decided that I should be taking some pictures of this historic event….even though it was not very successful. After several attempts, it became apparent….at least I thought it was apparent….and probably Sultan did also…..that he was not going to become an expert fisherman that afternoon. For a while, Sultan would also have to buy his fish from WalMart.

Before we left, we thanked the young boy….and we thanked his dad….for being generous and thoughtful. And, when I think back upon the incident, it was a very kind thing for them to do. They certainly had no obligation of any sort of try to include Sultan in their activities. Maybe they could tell by looking at us that we were definitely not fishermen….and maybe saw some potential….in Sultan, at least. It was a great adventure for Sultan….and I hope that we adequately conveyed our appreciation of both the kid and his dad.

We left Lake Hefner to the late afternoon pleasure seekers…..to enjoy their Friday afternoon leisure….to begin relaxing after a long week at work. We turned our attention to looking at both of the schools that Sultan had attended during his stay in Oklahoma City. When Sultan first arrived in the USA, he attended a language school associated with Southern Nazarene University, a university controlled by the Church of the Nazarene….the church that I grew up attending during the early years of my life. I am not really clear on why he chose that school. As a matter of fact, he did not choose it. His brother, Fayez, chose it. And, I am not really clear on how he chose it. As is the case with so many foreign students….especially those from Asia and the Middle East….I can imagine it was one of those, “Somebody told me….” situations. I think it was a good language school. Certainly the students received a lot of personal attention because of the very low enrollment. In some cases, I think it was almost one-to-one instruction.

The low enrollment proved to be the reason for its demise. It was forced to close its doors due to the lack of students. Sultan then enrolled in a private language school…ELS…which is located in a vacant building on the campus of Oklahoma City University. I don’t know….. Maybe this is a more challenging school. His English language speaking ability has improved dramatically since he has been enrolled there…..and it is steadily getting better.

After looking at Sultan’s language schools, we did what would become our tradition for that evening….and the next two evening that I was in Oklahoma City. We went to Starbucks, bought some iced coffee and sat on the outside patio and talked. If I had my choice…..I would probably go to any coffee shop…except for Starbucks. Starbucks sells its name…..and for a premium price. I have never liked paying for a name….for its advertising….for its hype….for the illusion the advertising creates. I am not usually drawn into these phoney myths of superior quality…. For the most part, I am convinced that there are probably a thousand coffee houses….probably including McDonald’s…. that sell a higher quality of coffee….for a much lower price….than Starbucks. But….Sultan has been suckered into believing this fantasy….and he was driving. So….we spent an hour or so sitting in an uncomfortable chair on the patio at Starbucks…..waiting until it was time to eat our evening meal.

Sultan took me to his favorite Arab restaurant, called ZamZam, to eat. ZamZam is an all-you-can-eat buffet with a fairly large assortment of of tasty Arab food. And, the customers that night were what I expected: mostly Arab diners, but with a token number of Westerns….like me. One half of the building is devoted to the restaurant; the other half is occupied by a Hookah parlor, so to speak. Most of its customers appeared to be Arabs….although we really didn’t go check it out.

We sat at our table conversing with each other….and watching the TV sets that were scattered around the room. All of them were tuned to CNN. That was the night that the attempted coup took place in Turkey. That was the main story….the only story, in fact. And, as is true with most exclusively news channels, they had taken this story and ran with it. Insofar as the viewer could tell, this was the only event that was happening in the world that night. Their coverage was like beating a dead horse! Repeating the same facts…or rumors….over and over…..and over. We could have watched the first five minutes and learned the entire story. But, that is not the way news channels cover a story…. They give the same information again and again…..trying to make it sound dramatic…exclusive…. If CNN was treating a story in this manner….I can only imagine what Fox News was doing. Imagine, maybe….but I certainly am glad we did not have to find out first hand. Chances are they were blaming the entire incident on President Obama and Hillary Clinton. When we eventually got back to our motel room, I expected to find the story plastered all over my e-mail….Facebook…Bing News…. I found one matter-of-fact story….stating the basic facts. And, that was all I found.

After we left ZamZam, we looked for a bar where we could go and sit and talk. And, hopefully, a bar that was safe and relatively quiet. Sultan knew of the perfect place. I wish I had noted the name….but I didn’t. It was located on the edge of Lake Hefner. It had a generous outside seating area, which was filled almost to capacity. We managed to find a vacant table….and immediately claimed it for ourselves.

It was a pleasant summer night. We sat and talked and watched the lights of the boats in the lake….and the people walking along the sidewalk in front of the lake. It was an ideal place to sit and relax. If I lived in Oklahoma City, this would no doubt be high on my list of nighttime hangouts when I have guests. But….I often got the impression that Oklahoma is even more conservative that Kansas. (Of course, that is impossible….) Bars in Kansas usually stay open until the legal closing time of 2:00 A.M. In Oklahoma City, at least, the city seems to shut down at Midnight. The streets are rolled up….and the people disappear. When the waitress asked if we had any final order….somewhere around 11:45, we knew that the time had come to leave and drive back to our motel.

We woke up on Saturday morning, eager to explore part of Oklahoma City. At least, I was eager. Prior to going to Oklahoma City, I had searched the Internet for some interesting place to visit and some interesting things to do. I was reasonably sure that Sultan was probably not very familiar with the various attractions in city. And, with only two full days to spend there, I felt it was better to be prepared so we could use our limited time more efficiently. Nothing wastes time as fast as sitting around and saying, “Well, what shall we do?” Or driving aimless around town looking for something.

Actually, Oklahoma City does not have a lot of options. My first inclination would be to choose the state historical museum. But, I had read the description and found out that it was devoted primarily to the history of Indians in Oklahoma. And, the truth is: I am simply not very interested in Indians….and I doubted is Sultan had much of a desire to go there, either.

So…..I decided to make Saturday primarily an “art day”. But, before we could start the sightseeing, Sultan had a check which he wanted to deposit in his bank….The Bank of America. His GPS led us into the heart of downtown Oklahoma City…..to the main bank. That was OK with me. It gave us an opportunity to see that “downtown” Oklahoma City looked like. Sultan had never been downtown before….and, it goes without saying that I certainly had never been there before.

The Bank of America building had its headquarters in the tallest building in the city… A gleaming skyscraper of steel and glass. No doubt paid for by government bailout money from their ignominious collapse in 2008 ….and the other illegal operations they have been found to participate in. This being Saturday morning, of course, the bank was closed. The only bright spot in this little adventure was being able to see downtown Oklahoma City. And, like the downtown area of most large cities in the USA, it was dead. “Not a creature was stirring….not even a mouse.” I think it is sort of eerie to be among towering buildings….but see no people. But, like most cities, the downtown area of Oklahoma City has been given over mainly to office complexes…..and not retail stores.

OK….. The bank was not open. So we went in search of our first sightseeing venue: The Oklahoma Contemporary Art Association. They are located in a building which is part of the Oklahoma State Fair. Most of the gates to the fair grounds were closed, but we located an entrance and went in search of the building. The buildings on the fair grounds are poorly marked, to say the least. In fact, we were about to give up the search. As we were driving out of the compound, we only by lucky coincidence saw a sign that identified the building. There is no sign or identification of any sort on the building itself. Only a small, rather obscure sign on the outside.

We entered the building and briefly inspected some paintings hanging in the lobby. A woman was sitting at a desk at what appeared to be the main entrance to the gallery. We approached her and asked her how much a ticket cost. She was a very kind…and eager….and helpful woman. “Oh, we would never think of charging to look at art,” she said. Wow! Tell that to the people at MOMA in New York City!

We thanked her….and proceeded on to the gallery. We were the only people there. And, actually, there simply wasn’t much to look at. We walked around the room looking at the displays of modern art….. And, to be sure….there were several on display in the large room. When we finished looking in the first gallery, we glanced around to see where to go next. We saw an open room at the rear of gallery, but when we glanced in there, it turned out to be a sculpture studio. A few people where in there working on various pieces of pottery and other items. It obviously was not a part of public space….and clearly not part of the gallery’s display collection.

We retreated back to the front of the building, and asked the lady at the desk if there were any other galleries we could look at. She directed us to a room next door. She warned us that the room would produce an echo effect when we talked, because it was a converted telescope observatory. Sure enough….she was right. There was a large dome in the middle of the curved ceiling. Again, there were a few smaller pictures on display. I am not sure if they were originals….or if they were copies. Probably originals. We thanked the lady in charge…. And, in return, she thanked us profusely….before leaving the building.

Perhaps the most striking display was the front windows of the gallery. They were completely covered with colorful, contemporary murals…..giving the window an illusion of being made of stained glass. After leaving the building, we sort of surmised that although there was a small collection of contemporary art….enough for Google to list it in the “Things to Do in Oklahoma City”….it was primarily a school or a workshop area for hands-on teaching and artistic development. But….it was a pleasant diversion before moving on to other things.

The next “other thing” was to find a Bank of America so Sultan could deposit his check. We found a Bank of American branch that was open on Saturday. It proved to be a very popular place, contrary to most banks on a Saturday morning. Sultan said that many international residents use that bank…..because it is the only American bank they have heard of…..and maybe because the “of America” part leads them to believe it operated by the U. S. A. government. Nevertheless, a large portion of those waiting in line were obviously foreigners. The long line moved quickly, though. Bank employees circulated among the people asking what kind of transaction they wished to make. And, those who were not waiting to deposit money were directed to the proper office or person.

 

 

 

 

The teller that helped Sultan was an Arab speaking young lady, so between English and Arabic, the transaction went smoothly. Sultan produced his bank card….signed his name a couple times….picked up his receipt…..and we were out of there.

But sometimes things that seem to go well are not as they appear. Throughout the remainder of Saturday afternoon…..and all day Sunday…..Sultan repeatedly tried to use his debit card…..only to be informed by the ATM that he had no funds of deposit. Thinking maybe the ATM was faulty, we found another ATM….. Same result. Thinking maybe that not enough time had elapsed between the transaction….we waited a while. Same result. No funds on deposit.

It was obvious that Sultan was a little bit upset….and certainly worried. But, he had kept his receipt. There was nothing to do but wait and take care of it when the bank opened on Monday.

For our afternoon enjoyment we chose to go to the Oklahoma Museum of Art. It was another opportunity to venture into downtown Oklahoma City again….actually not very far from the ill-fated trip to the Bank of American earlier that same morning. It may have been more efficient….time-wise, at least…..to have gone there in the morning since were already almost within walking distance from it. But, neither Sultan nor I knew anything about where these places were located. Neither of us could predict their location by looking at their address. We were dependent on the trusty GPS….and strictly at its mercy.

We had no problems locating the building. Our major problem became one of finding a parking place within walking distance of the museum. The Oklahoma City Museum of Art is located quite near the Civic Center Music Hall. There was obviously an important even taking place there later in the afternoon or evening…..and already parking lots and parking spaces had been blocked off in preparation for the event. We managed to find a parking spot about a block from the building…. Not bad considering the number of spaces that had already been closed.

The Oklahoma City Museum of Art is not exactly on the same level as the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. But….on the other hand, the Valley Falls High School gym isn’t really comparable to Allen Field House. But…. It gets the job done….and that is what counts. On this occasion the museum was displaying an exhibit of paintings by Henri Matisse….a French artist who specialized in impressionistic painting. Matisse is a fairly contemporary artist, having died in 1954. The paintings hanging the galleries were on loan from the Pompidou Center in Paris, one of the most prominent modern art museums in the world.

In addition to the several paintings of Matisse….which I rather suspect were not his most famous, but nevertheless impressive…..were other paintings from their permanent collection. At least on the afternoon we were there, the paintings in the galleries consisted entirely of modern and abstract art. I do not know… Maybe it is like this all the time. In any case, abstract art is my preferred form of art….so I was pleased. Sultan seemed attracted to it immediately. Sultan seemed to like and appreciate the art almost immediately….a fact that both surprised and pleased me. As a matter of fact, judging by the number of pictures he took, I think he could have them all enlarged….and start his own little art gallery back in his hometown in Saudi Arabia….where I can imagine that this type of art is completely foreign……and, knowing the Saudi Arabians, probably illegal.

 

 

 

 

On Saturday evening we continued our three-day tradition by returning to Starbucks and ordering some form ice-coffee. We sat on the outside patio and talked….and watched the Oklahoma City redneck teenagers roar past trying to show off with what they considered to be their “hot” cars. The truth be told….most of the cars simply sounded like their mufflers had rusted out and needed to be replaced. But, I am not complaining. It was pleasant sitting there, trying to shield my face from the sun…..and drinking overpriced Starbucks coffee.

Later, as the sun was sinking below the horizon, we returned to ZamZam, Sultan’s favorite Arab restaurant….the same place we had eaten Friday night….for our supper. It was the same delicious buffet….the same food we had already eaten. But, this time something went wrong. I didn’t notice it immediately, but after I went to bed that night, I had an acute case of indigestion! I wasn’t really sick…. There was no danger of vomiting or anything like that. But, for most of the night, I lay in bed, extremely uncomfortable….with a big glob of undigested food in my stomach. Sultan went to sleep immediately. He had no idea that I was lying in the adjacent bed….wide awake…and feeling miserable. I drank copious amounts of water, hoping that would help. It didn’t. There was a bottle of pop in the refrigerator. I drank that….in hopes the fizz would break up the food. It didn’t. I remembered that I had a package of Tums in the car. I pulled on a shirt and shorts and thongs….went to the car and got them. Maybe they would help. They didn’t.

I am not really sure I got any sleep that night. If I did sleep….it was not for very long periods at a time. It was a long, miserable night…..and a lonely night. There really wasn’t a lot I could do without waking Sultan. And, I didn’t want to do that. Why have two miserable people? By sunrise on Sunday morning, I was feel just a bit better….although not much. Eating breakfast….a little bit, at least….seemed to help, too. Although not much. But, as the morning progressed, I had begun to feel better. At least, I was feeling more and more confident that perhaps I would live.

There were two big events on the agenda for Sunday. Three, actually. Before we did anything else, I thought it would be a good idea to drive to the driver’s license bureau where Sultan would take his driving test on Monday morning. He had been there before…although not from the location of our motel….and he did not drive there himself. Being very cautious by nature, I thought it was a good idea to make a practice run….just as extra insurance….and for my peace of mind.

Our first stop of the day was at the Oklahoma City National Memorial…..site of the former Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building which was bombed in April of 1995, killing 168 people. The museum is closed until noon on Sunday, but the memorial is open 24 hours a day, 356 days a year for the public to view. The outdoor memorial is simple, but impressive. The memorial is framed by two Gates of Time….located at opposite ends of a reflecting pool. One gate represents 9:01 A. M., one minute before the bomb detonated…..the second gate symbolizes 9:03 A. M., one minute after the explosion, the minute the healing process began.

To the side of the reflecting pool, there are 168 bronze and stone chairs representing the number of people killed in the blast. Each chair is resting on a glass base with the name of the victim engraved on it. Even now more than twenty years later, people still leave flowers and other souvenirs in remembrance of the people they lost.

The second major event of the day was a visit to the Science Museum of Oklahoma. This turned out to be an interactive and entertaining occasion. Many….if not most museums…..are rows of displays behind glass-enclosed cabinets….with signs warning to “Do Not Touch”. This museum was the polar opposite. Almost every exhibit was constructed as a “hands-on” exhibit. One might thinks that it was intended exclusively for school children…..and there were plenty of young people there….. But, there were people of all ages who were enjoying the learning experience by actively engaging with the exhibits.

Sultan was no exception. One of the fun experiences he had was riding a Segway scooter….something I wish I had been brave enough to try. There were a multitude of other exhibitions dealing with such diverse topics and weather, physics, space, sound, health, magnetism…. There was even a house of mirrors…..and a room full of visual illusions. It was also fun to stand in front of the “green screen”…..like the one they have in TV studios to do the weather forecast. That is….it was fun until a couple kids came barging in front of us. A couple redneck kids with no visible manners who had apparently strayed from their parents….who probably had no manner either. Why do you think kids get that way?

We looked at a great many of the exhibits…. Sultan even experimented with a few of them….certainly more than I did. I did venture into a “wind tunnel”….where the wind speed was gradually increased from Zero to around 80 mph or somewhere around hurricane force. The wind wasn’t as strong as I had imagined it to be. Although Sultan actively engaged in many of them…..It was I who was able to decipher far more of the visual illusions.

To have tried out each station would have taken much more time than we had available, but we saw enough and participated enough to make the couple hours we spent there well worth our time. And, it remarkable how quickly time passes when a person is actively engaged as a participant….rather than merely a passive observer. The Science Museum of Oklahoma would be a good model for other museums to copy….if they want to improve their effectiveness….and their appeal.

Our only misadventure….a little embarrassing, but certainly not our fault….was when we wandered into an art exhibition which was being held in the museum building. We saw the advertisement. It looked interesting. We decided to investigate it. There was a young man seated near the door….. We walked right past him…..completely unnoticed. He was reading a good…and never even looked up at us. We honestly never gave him a second thought. Once we were inside the large room….a gallery, I suppose….another guy came walking toward us. “Do you have a ticket?” he asked.

“A ticket? Nobody told us we had to have a ticket,” I responded.

“Yes…. This is not part of the science museum,” he said.

“Oh…. Sorry….,” we said, as we retreated toward the entrance.

As we walked back out the door, the guy was still sitting in his chair….still reading a book….still paying no attention to us. I thought it was a rather strange situation….and I wonder how many other people just walked right past him….unnoticed…. And, I also wonder why they continue to employ a person who so obviously was not doing his job. Oh well….I really don’t think we missed much. It was an exhibit we certainly would never have paid money to see… But….Like they say, “It’s the principle…..”

Following this adventure, we drove back to our motel for a few minutes of nap time….getting ready for my final night in Oklahoma City. When we started out again, we took some stray pictures that I had neglected to take prior to then….odds and in’s that had eluded my attention. Again, this Sunday night, we found ourselves sitting in our “favorite” Starbucks….in our same “favorite” spot….waiting until it was time to eat supper.

Not wanting to tempt fate again….I was not at all looking forward to another sleepless night with indigestion…..we made the decision to find different place to eat. We settled on Indian food and found an Indian buffet that was still open. And….remember, things close early in Oklahoma City. We arrived at the Indian place about 8:45…..plenty of time to eat before its posted closing time at 9:30. We were among the very few people eating there that night….or at least, at that time. Shortly after 9:00, it became quite apparent that the owner wanted to close the place down…..with the waiters standing around looking at us…..and asking, “Will you need anything else from the buffet?” Well, I wasn’t born yesterday. It was time to get out of there and let them go home….and do whatever it is that people in Oklahoma City do at 9:30 at night. Probably go to bed.

We returned to the motel to get a good night’s sleep before my final day with Sultan.

From the first minute I met Fayez at the Days Inn Motel, he did all the driving. The number one reason was that I did not want to drive in Oklahoma City. My vision is not good enough; my reaction time is not quick enough; and I am totally unfamiliar with the city. The second reason that Sultan did all the driving was to give him some additional experience….a sort of refresher course…..before he took his driving test. Sultan is a good driver. No doubt about it. His main fault is not consistently obeying the traffic rules and regulations. Not because he doesn’t know them…..but because he often sees no point in obeying them.

“No cars are coming.” “Nobody cares.” “Nobody else obeys them.” “I will do it when I take the test.” A typical teenager. No….more than likely, a typical driver. Anyway, I was pretty insistent that he follow the rules….whether anybody was looking or not. Turn into the correct lane. Stop behind the stop sign. Signal every for every turn…even when changing lanes…. And, of course, I already knew that he would follow all the rules when the examiner was sitting beside him. But….my theory: Make it a habit, and then you do not have to even think about it.

We arrived at the driver’s license bureau in plenty of time. There were already several people waiting in line when the got there. “Is there anybody here who is taking their driving test today?” the guy in charge called out. Sultan seemed to be the only one. Lucky break. He immediately filled out the proper forms…..paid the fee….and we proceeded back to our car to wait for the examiner to arrive.

Sultan was confident. I was confident. We looked up and saw a black man walking toward us. He was the one and only black examiner….among four or five others. I didn’t think very much about it. “You’ll have to wait here…..,” he told me.

“Duhhhhh….” I thought and politely moved aside, leaving Sultan and the examiner to themselves. I started walking back to the building. I turned around to watch for a minute. Left front signal light…..right front signal light…..lights…dim…bright; windows….up then down; brakes…. Yes, they work; horn…Yeah, I heard it…..

I started walking on toward the building to wait. I happened to turn around to see if they had left…..and I saw the black guy walking back toward the building. I stopped him… Well, he didn’t actually stop…he just kept on walking…. “How did he do?” I asked assuming that maybe it was all finished. He just kept on walking. “Ask him,” he more or less snarled, as he continued walking.

Sultan had no idea what had happened. The guy told him only that the car had not passed inspection…..and had pointed at the strip of dark tint that goes across the top of my front windshield. I was totally confused….and puzzled. What had gone wrong? Having a strip of tint across the top of the windshield is not illegal. In fact, it is a safety feature. I am not sure how to describe what Sultan was feeling. Disbelief? Confusion? Puzzlement? And, to make matters worse, his language skills at the time were not good enough to ask the guy what the problem was. “Tint” was not even a part of his vocabulary.

We sat in the car for a couple minutes just trying to absorb what had gone wrong….what the problem was….what we had neglected to take into consideration…..

After a bit of discussion, Sultan….with a feeling of futility….said that he would simply renew his learner’s permit. I was still not satisfied. In fact, I was a little angry by the manner in which the black guy had treated both Sultan and me. We walked back into the building so Sultan could renew his learner’s permit. The guy in charge….and another of the inspectors…..recognized us and came over and asked us what the problem was. I told him honestly that I did not know. And, Sultan told him that he did not understand what the guy had said to him.

The man in charge and the other guy were also puzzled….and disappeared for a few minutes before returning. It turned out that it did indeed involved the strip of dark tint in the front windshield. Its height exceeded the Oklahoma regulation. It was one-fourth inch too high! A quarter inch. I explained to the man that this was my car….registered in Kansas….and it was not the car that Sultan would be driving. They looked at each other and sort of shrugged their shoulders. Both of them were sympathetic. “No,” they said. They were not in a position to over-rule another inspector’s decision. Could we make an appointment for tomorrow? Could Sultan borrow somebody’s car? Did he have a friend who could bring him there?

OK…. Those are the facts. That is the chronology of what took place.

Now for my opinion: I can just imagine the satisfaction the black man felt in summarily rejecting the safety of the car. I can imagine the feeling of power he must have felt being able to show him domination over an old while guy….and a young Arab boy. And, over such a petty detail. His word was final. He had proved that he was important….that he was a big dog…..that there was nothing the white guy and Arab kid could do about his decision.

There was nothing we could do about his decision. I told Sultan that this was a good example of the attitude many black people have toward Caucasians. “Yeah….I’m in power now. I’ll show you who’s boss.”

The people at the driver’s license bureau gladly completed the forms so that Sultan could renew his learner’s permit. We had to take the paperwork to another bureau in order to actually get the license. We were both feeling rather low and depressed when we left the building. We realized that his was purely a power play….and it had little or nothing to do with the safety of my car…..or the merits of Sultan’s driving.

Our final project of the morning….indeed of my stay in Oklahoma City…..was to return to the Bank of America where Sultan had deposited his money the previous Saturday. I was satisfied that the problem with his deposit was not serious. He had his deposit slip, and any problem could be quickly resolved. I was right. Again, there was a long line of people waiting, but a representative soon approached Sultan and asked why he was there. After looking at his deposit slip…..and checking her little hand-held computer, she soon discovered the problem: People can deposit money on Saturday….but it is not recorded until the following Monday. His money had been duly deposited….Sultan was happy and relieved. A crisis averted.

We ate lunch…..somewhere. And, then it was time for me to head back to Kansas. This time, I took Sultan to the house where he lives…..instead of to McDonalds’. The house is only one block from a main road that leads straight to I-35. It was a straight line….. Surely I would not get lost in Oklahoma City.

It had been a great three days…..full of adventure and fun and odd twists…. I was sad to leave. But, it was time to get “On the Road Again.”

I spent the night in a rather second-rate motel in Blackwell, Oklahoma, before proceeding on home the following morning. All good things must eventually come to an end. And, spending time with Sultan is definitely a good thing.

About one hundred fifty years ago, Hoarce Greeley, a newspaper editor somewhere back East, urged his readers to “Go West, young man. Go West.”

That is the advice I usually follow when it is time to start planning a vacation…. Have you ever heard anybody say, “Go East……?” Ahhh…Yes…..the Golden West. Take your pick of the natural beauty…..the Great Plains, the desert, the mountains…plenty of them, the forests, the ocean. And, we haven’t even begin to talk about Mt. Rushmore, Little Big Horn, Yellowstone National Park, Yosemite National Park, the Redwoods, the Columbia River Valley, the spectacular rock formations of southern Utah….. And, to break the monotony of nature, go visit Salt Lake City and listen to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir….and take in their slick propaganda displays, or spend a night in Reno….a manageable little city with bright lights and a few slot machines. And, there is always Denver or Portland or San Francisco….if you really feel you have to be surrounded by people and traffic for a day or two.

This year, however, we marched to the beat of a different drummer…. The drummer that was was coaxing us….Fayez and me….imploring us…..to Go East. Actually, I don’t think our intention….or even our expectation…..was to “see” things, as much as it was to drive through as many states as possible in as short a time period as possible…..and still say we were “on vacation”.

It probably goes without saying that no matter where we go, it is all going to be new to Fayez. West, East, North or South…. He knows nothing….very little, at least….about the USA, its geography, its people, its history…. Well, let’s just say, that being from Saudi Arabia…..they don’t spend a lot of time talking about the USA….at least, about it’s geography or history. Before you go sputtering all the patriotic stuff…. How many of you know anything about Saudi Arabia? Or the Middle East? Or Europe? Or Asia? Or Africa? Yeah…..that’s that I thought. And, remember…..it works both ways!

Of course, I have always believed that if you want to see natural beauty….Go West. If you want to experience the history of our nation…..Go East. And…..maybe, if you want to go somewhere that has for a long time been left in in the dust…..and fading quickly in the rear view mirror…..Go South.

When I started planning the trip…..Wow….back in February…. I set only a few criteria to meet. We had only 14 days…..exactly 14 days…..to complete the journey. As usual, when I plan a trip, there isn’t much….if any….time for improvising. We must be at a certain spot on the map at a certain time….. The campgrounds are already booked….and paid for. It is not like we can just decide not to show up….. Well, we can, I guess. But, the campground is paid for….and they are not going to refund any money. And….then where do we stay? Will there be a suitable campground….one with vacant camping cabins…..nearby? Or will be still be looking after darkness falls…..or will we be forced to stay in an expensive motel?

But, getting back to the criteria. We wanted to drive through as many states as possible. We wanted to keep the daily mileage within about eight hours driving time. We wanted to keep pursuing our goal with as few detours as possible.   A couple times in the past we initially drove ten and eleven hour days. The long distances were justified because…..well, there was nothing to see…..and we just wanted to cover the miles. But, driving an eight hour day…. We can still cover 500 miles, and still arrive at our campground with plenty of sunshine left in the day….. So Fayez could go for a run….and I could take a nap.

Camping can be very relaxing at the end of a day’s drive. We (I) can take a nap….We can get our camp set up….Fayez can cook our supper….. We can sit in front of the campfire and talk…..

Finding campgrounds that are fairly equally spaced apart is sometimes tricky…..especially considering that we only stayed at KOA campgrounds. But, this is not my first rodeo….so to speak. Learning from prior experience, I started planning the trip….and the route we would take…in February. If something happened to go wrong….this would afford plenty of time to make alternative plans…… And, it would also assure that we might possibly get the cabin closest to the showers! That doesn’t always work…. But, it is always worth a try.

Why only KOA? Mostly because I have a membership in KOA…..and I have a membership card that gives a 10% discount off the regular price of a camping space…..no matter what kind of site we choose. On this trip, things worked out pretty well. KOA’s are rather plentiful…. The only state that does not have a KOA was Delaware. Who knows why not? But, I was able to book a site with a cabin in one of the state parks… And, for actually less money than we paid for a KOA site.

There were only two problems areas: Washington, D. C. and New York City. There simply are not a lot of KOA campgrounds in Times Square…..or in DuPont Circle! In those two cites our only recourse was to stay in a hotel….. Either that….or stay awake twenty-four hours a day…..or sleep in a doorway, which come to think about it, wouldn’t have been so unusual in New York City…..and it certainly would have been a lot cheaper!

So…..It was the middle of February…..and the planning was complete. All the campgrounds had been reserved…..the route was more or less locked in….. It would take a few weeks longer to decide on the hotels. Should I go ahead and book rooms in both Washington, D. C. and New York City…..or should I wait? If I book them now…. Will the price go down? If I wait and book them later….. Will the price have gone up? There comes a point when I said, “The heck with it. I may as well get it over with…..” Once those reservations had been made….the only things was to wait….

Sometimes waiting is the hardest part of the trip. I constantly go over the plans…. Are all of the reservations made and confirmed? Is the route the most time efficient as it can be? Is picking up the rental car going to go smoothly? Is some catastrophic event going to prevent us from even going on the trip? Is the weather going to cooperate? Will it be too hot, too cold….? Check the long-range forecasts.

But, there is one factor that we do not have to be concerned about….. And, that is all the stuff we are going to take with us. Over the years, I have refined the list to rather exact proportions! In some of the early years we left things we needed behind…and we had to buy these things along the way. Or we took a lot of junk we didn’t need and never used. It took up valuable space and created extra work in packing and unpacking every day. Now…..the list is refined and polished. Everything that goes into the car is something that is necessary…..and something that will be used. No useless….maybe we might need this….stuff.

We have added and subtracted over the years….. Yes….we had better take insect repellant; No….we don’t need the dirty, cumbersome cast iron skillet….. A heavy jacket is always welcome. Sleeping bags…. Leave them at home and take old sheets and blankets instead. They are much more streamline to pack…..and take up a lot less space. So….. If anybody wants to buy my list…. Just contact me! With a little negotiating…..I am sure we can settle on a fair price! Of course, I won’t guarantee it will work for you. But, it sure works for us.

Thursday, May 12, finally arrived. That was a busy day for me. Get everything on the list….and make sure it was sitting in plain sight in the front room. Everything….down to the last plastic fork. Leave something sitting on the kitchen counter? You are probably going to forget it. Leave the camping chairs in the garage. They will no doubt be there when you get back. So….Everything on the list is placed in the front room…..and checked off the list. Yeah…..the front room is a mess….every available surface covered….except for my recliner, of course. But, one night of clutter is worth the effort.

Fayez told me a month ago that he will come up on Thursday evening….after his last class, so he can help me get all the stuff together. Great. Somebody is share in the work is welcome. A week before we leave….. “No, I have a meeting on Thursday evening. I will come early on Friday morning. I will be there by 9:00.” OK…..Better late than never, I suppose. The Tuesday before we are to leave: “I have to meet with my professor Friday morning. I will meet you in Topeka.” Well….there goes any hope of getting any help! I guess I should have known, in the final analysis, I would be doing all the work by myself. It usually happens that way.

Friday dawns. First, I have to take my computer to Holton, drop it off for some service….then drive on to Topeka where I will meet Fayez and Sam for lunch at the Billard Airport Cafe. So far, everything is going as planned. And why not? These are things that I have control over! Around 2:00, lunch is over. Time to go pick up the rental car.

Pick it up, indeed! I had rented a car from Hertz online…..and I was supposed to pick it up at 3:00. We left my car at my brother’s house and then drove to the Hertz location on South Topeka to pick up the car. But….OUR can had not been returned yet. “Come back in an hour…and it will be ready for you.” OK…. Not what we had planned…..or what we had agreed upon. But, OK…. What’s an hour? We drove….in Fayez’s car….to Lake Shawnee where Fayez immediately put the seat back…..and proceeded to take a nap. I tried to sleep….but without some sort of pillow, it was really not possible. I walked down to the rest rooms….walked up and down the sidewalk…..

It was nearing the end of the hour, so I walked back to the car to wake up Fayez. We returned to the Hertz place about an hour and a half after we returned….ready to get the keys to the car and get out of there. But….no car. Time was starting to pass by…..4:30….5:00…… There was nothing to do except wait…..if we wanted a car. It was sort of hard to be angry as I watched the hassled clerk calling people, saying, “Where’s the car you are supposed to bring back?” Or fielding telephone calls from other customers, saying, “No….We don’t have any cars available.” Finally, the guy told me in mild desperation, “OK, we will go ahead and give you THIS car”….pointing at a car in the next higher classification. “We just got to get it cleaned out…..”

That was OK with me…. Fayez was sitting in his car, probably messing with his cell phone…. At almost the same time the larger car was cleaned out and ready to go…. It happened! OUR car pulled into the parking lot. “Oh, wow…. That is a much smaller car….”

I must say, the people at Hertz were just as annoyed and hassled as we were. It was graduation weekend in Topeka….and other surrounding towns. Every car from every car rental agency in Topeka, Manhattan and Lawrence had been rented. At least, that is the guy said. And, I believe him. I was more than happy that I had rented the car a couple months earlier……or we may have been hitch hiking.

True to his word, as soon as we got back to my house, Fayez started packing all the stuff we were taking with us into the car….. It all fit…..but there was not a square inch of space left over when he finished, however. I must say, I am probably the better packer. But, after a long day, I was not going to sweat the small stuff. The car was packed…..and were ready to take off on our latest adventure.

Saturday morning, May 17, we were in the car, pulling out of the driveway at 8:03….. We had missed our….at least, MY….goal by three minutes. But, considering it could have been 9:03 or even 10:03…..who is going to complain. When we look at it that way…..I suppose we were actually early!

We drove through Kansas City. Nothing new there. Next was St. Louis. Been there…. Done that. We saw the infamous Arch from the car window. But….I am never going back there again. So…..we proceeded on our way to Benton, Illinois….for first KOA of the trip. Fayez prepared a delicious meal…. We sat and talked for a while in front of the fire…..

Sunday….we drove to Milton, West Virginia….our second KOA of the trip. Fayez prepared a delicious meal….. We sat and talked for a while in front of the fire…..

Monday…..we drove to Fredericksburg, Virginia….our third KOA of the trip. Fayez prepared a delicious meal…. We sat and talked for a while in front of the fire……

Are you starting to detect a pattern to our travel on this trip?

Fayez didn’t want to stop….. It wasn’t so much of a sightseeing trip as it was a “let’s just get there” trip. As I look back, this could have happened for a reason…or a combination of reasons.
Maybe the main fault was mine. I probably should have designated definite stopping points along the way…..historical sites, natural sites, point of interest. As it was, we had merely agreed to stop and see interesting things as they happened to occur. The problem with this approach is that Fayez knew absolutely nothing about where we were going….what we were going to see…. He had no concept or understanding of the historical significance of anything we might see. For the most part, he was completely uninformed about any social or political importance of events that had taken place in the Middle Atlantic and New England States.

Before we planned the trip, I told him several times that it was going to be far different than the trips we had taken previously. There would be no ocean beaches, no miles of evergreen forests following rushing rivers, no mountains with snow-covered peaks, no long drives through barren deserts…..no waterfalls along the Columbia River….. But, until a person has experienced something, it is usually difficult to empathize with the situation. I mean….does a foreigner really care about the foundations of our country? Are they interested in the wars we have fought…..not only against a foreign country, but also among our own citizens? Do people who are outsiders know….or care….who our great leaders were? George Washington, Thomas Jefferson…..?

If I were to go to Saudi Arabia….. Well…in the first place, I probably will never go to Saudi Arabia…. But, I am sure I would feel the same way. I know nothing about their history…about their historical sites….about what is important to them….or why. I am sure I would be polite and try to appear to be interested…..maybe even ask some questions….take some pictures….

So….it is probably not very realistic to expect a foreigner….especially a foreigner of a radically different culture….religion….and background…..to be terribly interested in a similarly strange and alien environment.

We spent our last night of simply driving….of “getting there”….in Fredericksburg, VA. This is only an hour or so outside Washington, D.C. There has been a lot of history that took place in and around Fredericksburg…..but we didn’t see any of it. I remember this KOA for a few different reasons. When we arrived, the owner of the KOA said that this day was the first day in 17 continuous days that it had not rained. She said we had brought them Good Luck! I am sure she said that to everybody who arrived that day! But…it was nice. The second thing: When I looked into our cabin, there was no chair to sit on. What good is a computer desk with no chair? I went back to the office to ask about it. They took a chair our of the neighboring cabin. Fortunately, nobody stayed in the cabin that night! Thirdly…if there is such a word…. It was the only KOA where the owner volunteered to take a picture of Fayez and me standing in front of their KOA sign. Nice of them…. And….Last….Well, I will get to that in a couple minutes.

Up until this point in the trip, not much happened….as you probably have already surmised. However, Tuesday morning we woke with a sense of anticipation. Something was about to happen! At last. But…..not much.

We drove a short distance to the north to Washington, D.C. The first familiar site that greeted us was the Pentagon, in suburban Arlington, VA. This huge office building houses the Department of Defense. It has five sides….five inner rings…..and has five stories. It is situated on a five acre park-like setting… Maybe this is why it is called the Pentagon. It is without doubt one of the largest office building in the world. More than twenty-five thousand military and non-military personnel work there…..in offices that line its eighteen miles of corridors.

Shortly after we passed by the Pentagon, Arlington National Cemetery came into site, with the landmark Curtis-Lee Mansion overlooking the cemetery from atop a high knoll. We passed over the Potomac River, wound our way past the Lincoln Memorial into downtown Washington. With the aid of our GPS, we had no problem arriving at the location of our hotel.

But, this is when the easy part ended….and the fun and games began. As I had suspected, there was no on-sight parking at our quaint little hotel….The Embassy Inn. The ads for the hotels always have a vague hope of “Parking Available”. The part they neglect to mention is that the parking is not at the hotel….and it is not free…..and it is usually not convenient. If you are extremely lucky, you will find an empty parking space somewhere within a couple blocks of the hotel. And, these parking spaces are only temporary…..for a few hours, at the most.

We were one of the lucky few that the parking gods had favored that day. We found a parking place….on the opposite side of the street….about two blocks from the hotel…..and we felt lucky indeed. We had arrived a couple hours before our check-in time. We were hoping that maybe our luck would continue and our room would be ready and waiting for us. But, we had no such luck. Now we were playing the game of “hurry up and wait”. Even though our room was not available yet, the receptionist took our bags….and we retired to the waiting room….such as it was….to sit and wait until we could move in. Our luck did prevail inasmuch as we were apparently the first guests to check in that afternoon…..and the rooms were being prepared on a “first come, first served” basis.

When we arrived, there was a young man sitting in the waiting room, obviously waiting for his room…..just like us. However, our names were called first…..and he was still sitting there when we went to our room. And….he was still sitting there when we passed through the lobby on our way to lunch……and he was still sitting there when we left the hotel the following morning….. I am not sure what was going on, but I began to suspect that he was sitting in the waiting room because there was no place for him to sit in his hotel room!

 

 

 

Our room was sparse, to say the least. Two single beds and perhaps a dresser. And that was it. And in order for me to get to my bed, I had to squeeze through a small space that separated the bed from the wall. The single window looked out on an alley. It would be a mistake to say that the room was comfortable….or attractive….or inviting….. I knew when I was looking for hotel rooms that I was probably scraping the bottom of the barrel. But, even this room was a budget buster at more than $200 a night! That is the price a person pays to spend a night in Washington, D.C.

By the time we were settled in our hotel room….and by time we had found a place to eat lunch….and by the time we had taken a quick drive around Washington…. It was time to find a permanent place to park the car. A parking garage was our only viable option. The clerk at the hotel suggested a parking garage….probably received a kickback from everybody she referred….a few blocks away from the hotel. Fayez….bless his heart….took care of the car, while I took a quick nap.

We capped off the night by sitting on the front lawn of our hotel. It was a pleasant, but cool evening as we sat and talked and watched the people was they strolled past on the sidewalk….and the traffic on the street. “A jacket would feel pretty good right now,” I thought, as I walked to our room to retrieve it. “Where is the jacket?” I wondered as I searched the room. “I must have left it in the car.”

 

 

 

The next day we checked the car. No jacket. Nowhere…. That could mean only one thing: I had left it at the KOA in Fredricksburg. But….how could that happen? I always check the cabins so thoroughly before we leave them. The only thing I could do was to call them to ask if they had found it…..something I did immediately, from outside the buffet where we had just eaten. The guy who answered the telephone apparently had a bad connection. About all he would say was, “I can’t hear you.” or “The connection is bad.”

I tried again the following morning from in front of the hotel. “Yes, we found it hanging on the hook behind the door.” Insofar as I could remember, this was the only cabin I had stayed in that even had a hook behind the door. Lucky me. “Will you please mail the jacket to my home for me?” I asked. “Yes. Give us your credit card number…..” Well….that is the other reason I will remember Fredricksburg. I spent the remainder of the nights wrapped in a blanket. It was the only way I could stay warm….sitting in front of our campfire looking like an Indian Chief….or an Egyptian mummy.

But…wait. That isn’t the end of the story. When we arrive back home, I had fully expected to find the jacket waiting for me. There was no jacket waiting. I called the KOA on the telephone again. “Oh…. It is still here. But, we will get it mailed today.” I also wrote them an e-mail message to reinforce the reminder. A week later….the jacket still had not arrived. “Oh… There is no mail pickup because it is the 4th of July. But, as will mail it the day after the 4th.” So….one month from the day we stayed in the campground…..the jacket arrived. Not exactly the prompt, friendly, “come back again” service that I had expected. But, at least, my new jacket is hanging safely in my closet. And, I will never hang it on a hook behind the door again.

Many, many years earlier, I had lived in Washington, D.C. for two or three months while I studied the Vietnamese language. This was in the mid-60’s. Back in those days, Washington was a fairly open city. Of course, there was still a fence around the White House! But, many tourists strolled on the sidewalk in front, sticking their cameras between the bars of the fence to take pictures. One day we were wandering about the Capitol Building….completely unobstructed….admiring the opulent beauty of the building. We gradually became aware that perhaps we had wandered too far…. In front of us was the office of the Speaker of the House! Nobody said a word to us…. Nobody told us to leave….. However, as I recall, we decided that maybe we had better retreat just a bit. But…this was entirely our own decision…..and not as the result of whistles blowing and wailing sirens.

On this visit, our closest access to the White House was outside an exterior fence about two blocks away. We jostled with the milling crowd for our turn at a favorable position to take some pictures. And….then we left. There was not much else to do. We never attempted to entire the Capitol Building…..let alone roam freely through the hallways. I am pretty sure if we had attempted this, I would be languishing somewhere in a federal prison waiting for my trial right now…..instead of writing this blog.

Actually, we didn’t even bother walking up to the Capitol Building. The structure was undergoing an extensive renovation, and stacks of construction material were piled everywhere; sections of the Capitol grounds were roped off because of the on-going construction; the dome was encased in an ugly scaffolding……and I doubt if Fayez was really very interested in seeing it anyway. Even if we had of gone inside the Capitol Building….and roamed the halls freely…. I doubt if we would have posed a security threat because most of the members of Congress had probably already gone home……or they were playing Solitaire on their computers…. One things is for sure: They were not busy passing laws that would benefit the country.

We got back on the tour bus which took us to the Washington Monument. The Washington Monument is not very interactive….but it is an impressive structure….with good views of both the Lincoln Memorial and the Jefferson Memorial. If I had been younger….in better shape….and slightly less sane…..we could have climbed the 898 steps to the top. But….we left that to those who had nothing better to do…..or who wanted to see how long it would take before they had a heart attack.

As for us…..we moved on to the Jefferson Memorial, on the south side of the Tidal Basin. This domed edifice is a tribute to the third President of the USA….Thomas Jefferson. It is more interactive than the Washington Monument insofar as it at least contains some exhibits of the life and accomplishments of Jefferson. However, the most outstanding feature is the huge statue of Jefferson in the center of the rotunda…..surrounded by many of the famous quotations found in his various writings. Fayez was fascinated with many of the quotations. I am also an admirer Thomas Jefferson…..but I have heard and read these sayings almost all my life….while they were all new and exciting to Fayez. Of course, Jefferson was the author of many of our basic freedoms….especially, I suppose….our principles of religious freedom….and the basic freedoms of freedom of speech, press and assembly.

The next stop on our tour was the Lincoln Memorial. I don’t know….. Maybe this is the most impressive monument in our nation’s capital…..a huge statue of a brooding Abraham Lincoln sitting in a chair in the middle of the memorial. The statue is sitting in a rotunda which can be reached by climbing a mountain of stairs. I was afraid that Fayez would be exploring this monument by himself. But, we discovered that there is indeed an elevator, so I was relieved that I would be able to enter the great rotunda and stand in the presence of our great 16th President of the USA….the president who signed the proclamation that granted freedom to the slaves.

From the Lincoln Memorial, we were treated to an impressive panorama of the Reflecting Pool and the Washington Monument. Nearby….and slightly to the northeast of the Lincoln Memorial is the location of the Vietnam War Memorial. It is an understated….but highly impressive and majestic….tribute to those men and women who lost their lives in the Vietnam War. The memorial…..a wall which winds gracefully through the park-like setting….contains the names of each of the almost 58,000 soldiers, sailors and airmen who died while serving their country in this war. This memorial is a stark reminder of the lives lost in a war that was never won.

Fayez was eager to see the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, which is also located in the immediate area. So, we departed the bus and walked the short distance to the memorial. I had little interest in this display, so I sat on a bench and waited while Fayez walked through the large plaques containing quotations of King…..and looked at the statues which bore only a slight resemblance to the famous civil right leader.

Our final stop on our tour was at the Albert Einstein Memorial. Although it is not one of the more famous or popular stops on the tour, the statue is a whimsical tribute to one of the greatest scientific minds of last century. At the time we stopped, it was also the playground of a small child, accompanied by his obviously bored mother, who was enjoying a few minutes of peace and freedom while the young boy spoiled the photos of everybody who wanted to take a picture. Nearby was a museum of science. I had planned to sit on a bench near Einstein’s statue and wait while Fayez toured the museum. But, after a few minutes, he re-appeared, having decided it was not worth the effort.

Other than the White House, that concluded our stops on the Washington, D. C. bus tour. We did hop on another bus and take a quick ride through Georgetown….and some of northern suburbs…..but basically our time in Washington had come to an end.

Yes…..We also did some other things. We walked about three blocks in a pouring rain to eat lunch is a well-known downtown buffet. We took our own little tour of the city the night we arrived….a drive through Georgetown, George Washington University, the Rock Creek Park, the Pentagon….. I really have no recollection of where we ate on either night….. Somewhere….

It is a hopeless task….or wishful thinking, at best…..to imagine that you can appreciate Washington D. C. in one day. The best we could do was take the guided tour….an on and off bus…..and at least, superficially scratch the outer surface of the city. We perhaps took the essential tourist tour. After we departed, about all we could say was that we had been to Washington, D. C.

Washington, D. C. is a “destination” vacation. It is not merely a place you pass through for a day. It would take days….even weeks…..to even make a dent in all that the city has to offer. This is our nation’s capital…..and it is packed full with hundreds of very significant and important places to visit and things to see. To think you can even open the door a tiny crack….let alone walk inside the room….is naive and delusional. But….for the sake of Fayez, we did at least catch a superficial glance of five or six of the more important sites. As for me, the trip was disappointing….tiring….and not very satisfying. But…..We came….We saw…..and…. We took some pictures.

The next day….Thursday….was without any doubt…..was the highlight of the entire trip. We drove to Georgetown, Delaware, to visit Dusty Davis, one of my former students and runners. And, his brother, John…..one of my old golfing partners.

Starting in the 5th or 6th grade, Dusty became interested in running. Maybe it was because his older brother, Kent, was my “original” runner. Somewhere along the way, Kent asked me if I would help him become a runner. We spent many hours…many days….training… Running on the old Ferguson Road when it was nothing but a mud road full of ruts. Running timed laps in the gym. Running the high school stairs. Running 50 yard dashes in the hallway of the grade school. Running 400 and 800 meters on the Topeka West High School track. Lifting weights…. Researching the best running shoes…. At the time, Kent was probably the only serious runner in Valley Falls. He sat the example….the standard…..the prototype…..for runners to follow. We were convinced that we knew more about running than anybody else in town. And, we probably did.

It wasn’t much later when Dusty also became interested in running. I spent many hours….again many days…..many weekends working with him. By this time, we had an organized cross-country program in our high school. Dusty, however, went above and beyond what was required in the practice schedule. He willingly ran on weekends….in the evening. Lucky for Dusty, the Ferguson Road had been blacktopped by this time, so at least he did not have to run on a rut-filled, dirt road.

We adopted Paradise Point as a venue for much of our long-distance running…. We marked out a series of courses…..one mile, five kilometers, ten kilometers…. Sometimes the entire cross-country team would pile into my car or pickup and drive there to run. Other times, it was only Dusty. I can remember one Sunday afternoon. Dusty was running on the Ferguson Road…..He ran along beside my car as I played a tape of Wynton Marsalis performing Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto. Dusty also played the trumpet……and played it quite well.

Dusty was dedicated to running. It paid off for him, too. He rarely failed to earn a medal in the cross-country meets…..and he qualified to run in the State Cross-Country Meet his senior year.

John…..Dusty’s next older brother…..was never interested in running. But, he and I became golfing partners. We spent many hours playing golf at the Village Greens Golf Course. I think we were famous…..at least with the people who owned the golf course…..for playing under conditions that most people would never have considered. We played in extreme heat; we played in the rain; we played when it was cold enough to freeze certain body parts….. We rarely kept score. We played for fun…. And, we were usually too busy talking to bother keeping score anyway.

Now, both Dusty and John are doctors. Dusty is an osteopath, and John is a chiropractor….and both of them have established practices in Georgetown, Delaware. We arrived in Georgetown shortly after noon. Georgetown is a pleasant little town of just under 7,000 people. The downtown is particularly quaint…..and looks like it may have been constructed in the days of the Revolutionary War. I really have no idea if it was…..or not. With the assistance of the GPS, we had no problem locating Dusty’s house. I mean…..How could me miss it? It was the only house in town with K-State banners flying outside on the lawn. Even without the GPS, I am sure we would have found it quickly enough!

I had not seen Dusty since he got married….. Wow…. That had to be probably 20 years ago. So, it was a happy and joyous reunion. Yes…. It was the same old Dusty. Maybe a few pounds heavier….and perhaps a few gray hairs. But…there was no mistake: It was definitely the Dusty that I remembered from so long ago. After greeting us, he briefly showed us his house…..and then suggested we go for lunch. Fayez and I had already planned to take Dusty to lunch. But, Dusty wouldn’t even consider the thought of us paying for the lunch. We ate lunch in an Italian restaurant….sat, talked, reminisced about old times….sort of got to know each other again.

Fayez was able to talk to him about his experiences in medical college….about the expectations, the pressures, the requirements…… Dusty had already been through the experience…..and was able to give Fayez some valuable insights into what he can expect when he is ready to enroll in medical school.

After a brief tour of the town…..and a tour of Dusty’s clinic….we went to John’s office to reunite with him and Karla….and their son. This was an equally pleasant and warm reunion…..accompanied by a pleasant interlude in one of John’s vibrating therapy chairs….. Before we departed, we made plans for a reunion at our campground that evening.

Dusty thoughtfully led us to our campground and helped us locate our cabin. The campground office was already closed by the time we arrived…..but our information packet was waiting for us at our cabin. As I normally do…..I settled down for a nap while Fayez went for a run. Later on, Dusty and his daughter…..and John and Karla….drove up. We started a fire in the fire ring….and sat and talked and gossiped and laughed and reminisced……and drank our share of beer….until it was time for them to return to town. They left with my promise to send Dusty one of the few remaining Ferguson Road Runner shirts….something he vowed to cherish and protect.

The day was pleasant….. It was fun…… It was satisfying…… In fact….This day was the highlight…..the high point….of the entire trip.

The next day, Friday, we continued on to New York City. This was not a part of the trip that I was looking forward to…..driving into New York….driving into downtown…..finding our hotel in mid-Manhattan not far from Times Square. But, Fayez handled it like a pro! Yes….he probably subtracted a few days from my life and added a few more gray hairs, if that is possible. But, that was simply because he is obsessed with his cell phone…and many times seems incapable to putting it down. I often accuse him of being controlled by his cell phone….instead of him being able to control it. But, be that as it is….. Driving and texting…or even driving and looking at a cell phone…..are not safe habits. They are dangerous, in fact…..in Valley Falls, Kansas…..and most certainly in New York City! However…..by skill….by luck…..or purely by a miracle…..we found ourselves in front of our hotel….The Row NYC….in the heart of the city.

For a fee of around $65.00 or so, a guy took our car and disappeared with it. Of course, they gave us a receipt….but we have no idea where they actually took the car. It was a rental car….so I guess: Who cares? Right? At least, it was off our hands until we got ready to leave the city.

Before I go any further…..just let me say: New York City is dirty, crowded, noisy, expensive… And, it didn’t take long to figure all of this out.

Our hotel room cost about $225.00 a night. At least it was nicer than the room we had in Washington, D. C……but it wasn’t a fourth as nice as the motel room where I stay in Lyons….and it cost three times as much. There was no chairs to sit in…..no dresser or chest of drawers…. Only a couple beds. We could actually walk past them without turning sideways or squeezing through. And it was on the top floor….I think. And, it had a good view out the windows to the north and to the west. Actually, it was more of a glorified hostel than it was an actual hotel. It was high enough above the street that we could not hear the street noise. But….it certainly was not high enough to muffle the sound of the police, ambulance and fire trucks that were active the entire day and night.

The first night we were there, we didn’t do much of anything. We went out onto the sidewalk and walked several blocks around the hotel. To say this was a relaxing experience would not be tell the truth! The sidewalk were teaming with humanity. It was next to impossible for Fayez and I to walk side by side…..let alone try to carry on a conversation. I am not sure what all the people were doing. There is really nothing important to see…..no landmarks, no tourist attractions. It was on the edge of the theater district…..and I suspect that many of them where there to (a) see a show (b) hope to see a show (c) catch a glimpse of a “star”) (d) be discovered by a famous producer (e) because they had checked into a cheap hotel like us, or (f) they were lost. It was interesting to hear all the “cheerful” chatter between people on the sidewalk….people, who by the sound of their conversation…..obviously did not know each other…but were trying to sound wise and worldly and “hip”.

After a while of looking at theater marquees and trying to avoid walking into other people, we retreated to our room for the night…..to listen to the wail of sirens on the street below. After Fayez I had fallen asleep….maybe 1:30 or 2:00 A.M…..the sidewalks were still bustling with people….going somewhere…..doing something. Apparently they knew something we didn’t know…..or were seeing things we didn’t see…..

The next morning, we bought tickets for a tour of New York City from one of the many tour buses that roam the city. With only one day to spend in the city….and with no knowledge of the transportation system…..or where anything was located…. This is by far the best way to see New York. We both sat on the upper deck of the bus as it slowly wound its way through the traffic.

Our tour guide was a feisty old woman who tolerated no nonsense from the passengers on the bus. She made it clear from the very beginning that she was the “Star” of the show….and she would not condone any interference in her monologue. I suspect that perhaps she was a former school teacher…..although she never told us. She did say that she was 85 years old…..and had been doing this for … Well, maybe ever since New York had been a city! She turned out to be what I could imagine was a typical old woman with a “New York attitude”…..in your face, abrupt, to the point, take no nonsense. When she was talking, you had better close your mouth and listen! If you didn’t…..You were sure to incur her wrath. “I hear people talking. People paid good money to hear ME talk….not YOU. If you don’t want to be quiet and listen….Get off the bus at the next stop.”

I suppose her dictatorial manner was good, though….. It frightened most of us into listening to her…..hanging on her every word. She did have a treasure of knowledge about the city….and all the landmarks we drove by. One of her favorite lines was, “Now don’t get your cameras yet….but I am going to tell you now about what is up ahead. And, I will tell you when it is best to take your pictures…..” Most of what she told us was interesting…..but some of the things she thought were important were things that I had never heard of….and would never consider taking pictures of. I would get home….and have no idea why I took the pictures. But, she did keep the tour lively….and she tried to make it as informative and exciting as she could. And….before we departed the bus, she was not subtle in warning us that we had better leave a tip for both her and the bus driver. This was on top of the forty or fifty dollars we had already paid for our ticket.

For all practical purposes, we spent the day on a bus. Any thought we may have had of hopping off the bus and checking out any of the tourist attractions….such as the Museum of Modern Art, for example…..were wishful thinking….only part of a fantasy in our minds. The only time we got off the bus was to board a boat which took us on a short tour of New York Harbor…..and views of the Statue of Liberty, some of the famous bridges and the New York skyline. Boarding this boat involved walking several blocks….and eating up much of our time in the afternoon.

We returned to where we started…..retracing much of the route we had already traveled. At that point, we decided to get on another bus….which was covered by our ticket….and see another section of New York City. This time, our tour guide was not so entertaining….and certainly not so dictatorial….merely pointing out landmarks and attractions as we passed by them.

So….that was how we spent the day in New York City. We passed by Times Square, the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, Madison Square Garden, Carnegie Hall, Macy’s Department Store, the United Nations Building, Marble Collegiate Church, the Chrysler Building, the Flatiron Building, Central Park, Ground Zero, the Museum of Modern Art, the Palace Theater, Greenwich Village…even the Trump Towers…..a bunch of places.

It was interesting to see all the different buildings and places that I had only seen on TV or read about in books. Of course, none of this meant anything to Fayez. I don’t know….maybe he had heard of Ground Zero, the spot where the World Trade Towers stood…. The other places were….as they say….Greek to him. I think he was mostly impressed by the tall buildings….and maybe the sight of the Statue of Liberty.

For me, I was disappointed. I am sure I was expecting far too much from New York City. Yes, of course….there were plenty of tall buildings. But they were not as tall as I had expected. Even the Empire State Building was just another tall building…..a little taller than the surrounding buildings….but not as impressive as I had expected….or hoped….it would be. The other famous buildings? Well…..that is what they were….Other buildings. They were all sandwiched in between other buildings, Had it not been for the signs or marquees in front of the building, I am sure that I….and most other people….would have simply passed by them never knowing they were supposed to be something special.

I had expected to walk through the sidewalks of downtown New York City in awe and wonder….unable to keep my eye on the sidewalk…..always gazing at the magnificent towering buildings…..like walking through a canyon of bricks and glass. As it was….my main concern was avoiding running into somebody else….or avoiding a construction barricade that had been set upon the sidewalk….or stepping over trash discarded by vast sea of faceless humanity. The most welcome and the most pleasant times I spent in the city were in hotel….or in a Subway Sandwich Shop….where I could relax and not have to constantly be dodging people or trash….where there was a slight relief from the constant sound of wailing sirens and the ubiquitous smell of exhaust of the tangled traffic.

Perhaps I felt a slight disappointment at not seeing the bums…or the street performers….or the hustlers….or the weirdos….that the late night talk show hosts joke about. But, I am not going to go back to New York City just to look for them. No….. New York City is just a dirty city….and not the beautiful, exciting city I had expected.

At night, faced by the lack of nothing better to do, we decided to take another tour of the city. In order to get to our tour bus, we took a rather round about route….a path that led us through Times Square. The lights were just being turned on. The area was packed with people. It was starting to rain. There was little do….except get wet. We looked at the famous New York Times Building. Not very impressive. I am glad I knew in advance it was famous. I would have never guessed it otherwise. What were all these people doing? I don’t know…..they obviously saw or felt something that I did not feel. I took several pictures. It was still raining. Let’s find our tour bus and get out of this place…..

We sat in open-air deck of the tour bus. It was still raining, but we were given a poncho to wear to help keep us from being thoroughly soaked. At the start of the tour, the upper, open-air deck was crowded. Most of the passengers had the common sense to go down below where it was dry. But, not Fayez and I! We stubbornly stayed on the top deck for the entire trip. On occasion, I attempted to take a few pictures…..but mostly, I tried to protect my camera from the rain. Although this tour bus covered some new territory, we essentially covered much of the same route the other bus had taken earlier. The only difference in this tour was that we were able to see New York City lighted up at night….and we had a younger, much less dramatic…male….tour guide. If anything, driving at night only accentuates the mass of traffic….if only because of the mass of headlights and taillights.

Around midnight, after an exciting and glamorous meal at Subway, and with nothing else to do, we returned to our hotel room for the night….while the “beautiful people” milled the streets below us.

The next morning, we ate our breakfast… And, Yes…we had to pay for it….had our rental car returned to us….and lost no time leaving the city.

Part of the problem….if not most of it….in this visit to New York City lay in the fact that we were simply naive in thinking we could even begin to see anything in one day. Being a complete novice, somehow I had envisioned that we could get off our bus…..spend some time in the Museum of Modern Art….get back on the bus….drive to the Empire State Building….get off….spend some time there…. Etc. But, it simply does not work that way. Because of the traffic, the bus moved at a snail’s pace….and a slow snail, at that. It became obvious that a person does not go anywhere in New York quickly…. At least, not in the parts of the city where we were. Visiting two attractions a day would have been a more realistic goal…. But, we had only one day. The best we could do, if we wanted to “see New York City”, was to stay on the bus and see enough of the city to at least make it sound like we had been there.

If I ever return to either Washington, D.C. or New York City, I will fly into the city, take a cab to my hotel….and plan to stay for a minimum of three or four days. And, I will be prepared to come up with enough cash to stay in a “good” hotel….in a “good” part of town…. I will choose the places I want to visit in advance….and try to make a workable plan to visit them at a semi-leisurely pace. New York….and Washington, D.C…..are expensive cities. I had read it….and I knew it in my brain…. But, there is nothing like hands-on experience to become a true believer. One thing is for sure… Well, maybe a couple things: I will never drive to either of those cities again. I will stay in hotels that are easily accessible to public transportation…and have at least the bare essentials to make living in a hotel room comfortable. And, I will stay for a sufficient length of time to make the trip worthwhile and memorable….in a good sort of way.

 

 

 

Sunday morning, we were on our way out of New York City…..our next destination was Boston…. Our only objective for that day…..other than to drive through the states of Connecticut and Rhode Island, was to arrive in Boston….actually Cambridge….and visit the campus of Harvard University. But, those people are smarter than I gave them credit! They close their campus on Sunday. I mean…. They barricade it. We drove around for probably thirty minutes looking for a gate that was open…..and would admit us to the campus. But….they were all closed…..and locked. It is a private university, so I suppose they can do whatever they want. But, I found it to be rather unusual that their entire campus was inaccessible for an entire day. I am not ruling out the possibility that there was a way to enter the campus…..and we just didn’t find it. Maybe they are merely giving the students an opportunity to rest their brains after a week of heavy studying.

At any rate, after exploring all the possible methods of entrance….and having been rebuffed at each of them….. we headed out toward our campground, several miles outside the city. Nothing remarkable there.

We were eager for the next day….Monday…..to arrive. That was the day we headed for Saco, Maine…..and the Atlantic Coast. We had planned on spending the afternoon on the beach.

Driving in Maine….southern Maine….was an experience. From the time we crossed the border, we never left a town. The names were different….but it seemed to be one continuous metropolitan area….one little town after another. No….it wasn’t like New York City….but, on the other hand, it wasn’t like Kansas, either. Every town was connected to the next town…. The traffic wasn’t particularly heavy, although there was always a continuous flow of vehicles going both directions. I had heard a lot about Maine being a rural, provincial state…..full of quaint villages, inhabited with quaint people, speaking a quaint New England dialect. Maybe we didn’t drive far enough to the north….Saco, Maine, is in southern Maine. At any rate, my perception of Maine was slowly but surely shattered as we drove along.

We knew we had arrived in Saco, Maine…..well, because the sign said we had arrived….and our GPS said we had arrived. So much for the quaint little village….

After we had located our campground, we headed for what we hoped would be a pleasant afternoon on the beach. The ocean…..Old Orchard Beach….was only a couple miles drive from the campground. But…Alas! There was to be no leisurely afternoon walking on the beach.

I have become accustomed to the Oregon Coast…. Miles and miles of deserted beaches…. We could walk for miles in almost any direction on the beautiful sandy beaches, only occasionally meeting another person. We could sit on the sand….or find a huge tree truck that had washed in from the Pacific Ocean….. and listen to the roar of the waves was they washed against the beach. If we wanted a cup of coffee….or something else to eat or drink….there are little towns at regular intervals up and down the coast.

We soon discovered that the beaches of Maine….at least, southern Maine….are a mirror of the towns. For miles….as far as we could see…..they were lined with businesses catering to tourists. Cafes, coffee shops, bars, souvenir stands, t-shirt shops, surf shops….and continuous apartment buildings, apparently available to tourists who wanted to rent them. Even in May….before most schools had dismissed for the summer….the beaches were crowded. There was obviously no such thing as a deserted Maine coast…..

After taking a brief glance at the beach….and immediately realizing that a pleasant afternoon on a clean, deserted beach was another of our fantasies….we headed back to our campground. Me for a nice nap…..and Fayez for his afternoon run.

By this time, I was becoming disillusioned with the entire trip. Except for Washington, D. C. and New York City, we had stopped for nothing… The trip had turned into days of driving….and more driving….. There was very little that I would look back and recall with fond memories….. Only the half day we spent visiting Duty, John and Carla….

Part of the problem was that I neglected to designate specific points of interest….and build them into the schedule. I had depended on making spontaneous visits to historical places of interest as we drove along. I think that had I been traveling with somebody who had a knowledge and appreciation of USA history, this may have worked. But….for somebody who was unfamiliar with our history….and had no prior knowledge of the places and events which made up that history…. Well, it is probably understandable that such a plan would not work.

The advantage I always had with my European guests was that we share so much common history. Our histories and our cultures are intertwined. With the others….and this includes almost everybody: Asians, Africans, Middle Easterners…. The history and culture of our country has largely not affected their history or culture or customs…..

Nevertheless….. We had one more stop that perhaps would be a redeeming factor. And, that stop was Niagara Falls. And… Yes, it was the second…and only other….highlight of the trip. The afternoon we spent at Niagara Falls was fun….and it was instructive. I had not visualized Niagara Falls as being located in an urban setting. Most water falls are found in wilderness areas….typical mountainous areas where the water is free to fall over the side of cliffs into a river or pool below. Niagara Falls, for all practical purposes, is located in the middle of a city!

In keeping with most attractions in the Eastern part of the USA, it is part of a super-commercial tourist complex…..hotels, souvenir shops, restaurants, parking lots. But, it should be pointed out, Niagara Falls is not a national park…. It is a state park, presumably owned by the state of New York. National Parks, which are the property of the “people”…..the federal government….and are relatively free of blatant commercialism. Although, to be sure….there is always a place to buy a souvenir or buy a hamburger.

The Niagara River….the source of the Falls….runs through a well defined park-like setting before crashing over a cliff and continuing its journey below. The Falls are far enough away from the commercial area that it really doesn’t interfere with the drama or beauty or excitement of the Falls themselves…..especially if you have the power to ignore all the towering buildings in the background.

I have seen hundreds of pictures of Niagara Falls….taken from land, taken from boats, taken from the air…. Just by looking at the pictures, I could feel the awe and power of the water as it cascades over the cliff. I could see the mist and the spray filtering outward from the Falls. I could imagine the sound of the water as it plunges downward. I could sense the tremendous power generated by the constant, never-ending pressure of hundred tons….millions of gallons….of water…

Until I was standing there….in person….seeing and hearing…..did I truly understand the genuine authority of the Falls. It was only then that I fully appreciated its scope and beauty. Just like the never-ending waves of the ocean, it is mesmerizing….almost hypnotizing in its magnetic effect and appeal. It is difficult to look away…..

Even before we reached Niagara Falls, people in our campground….in service stations….had tried to sell us tickets to the various “attractions” associated with the park. Without having yet seen the Falls, all of the things they described to us sounded exciting….. But, I am glad we didn’t buy any of them. The only thing really worth paying for….I think….is the water falls itself. Fayez and I bought tickets on the “Maid of the Mist”…..the boat which carries its passengers into the river or lake….or whatever it is called….for a closeup experience with the Falls.

Before boarding the boat…..one of a dozen boats, it appeared…..a person is well advised to slip on the poncho which is handed to you as you board the boat. This poncho is not merely a souvenir. It is absolutely essential, unless you enjoy being drenched….soaked to the bone….by the spray of the water falls. We filed onto the boat, jostling for a place around the outer railing. There were benches to sit on…..but only a few people were sitting on them. Everybody wanted the best view of the water falls……and everybody wanted pictures….

Taking pictures is the main reason most people take the boat ride…. That is reason I did, anyway. And, it is understandable that perhaps tourists want a group picture of sorts. But….some people don’t want just one group photo…. No…. Two pictures of this group. Now…let’s change the group…. Couple pictures of this group, too….. Oh….Let’s get a couple pictures of this combination…. After a while, it becomes annoying….rude….inconsiderate…and unnecessary. And, after a while, I stopped moving aside. I stood my ground….mostly just pretended like I didn’t see them. I am probably in several group pictures….with people asking, “Who is that old white haired man?”

And, the selfies are the worst! People trying to push you aside so they can stick their own cell phone in front of their face to take a dozen pictures. Or a camera mounted on a three-foot pole, poking everybody in the ribs, the back or the face. Yeah, yeah…. Fayez took a couple pictures of me….but, we didn’t push anybody out of their space to take the pictures. Who cares if there are other people in the picture? Come on…. This is Niagara Falls…..and the boat is crowded with tourists.

The Maid of the Mist slowly churns its way toward the Falls. The spray of mist….then water….increases proportionately as the boat gets closer and closer….finally moving parallel to the water falls. Thanks Heavens for the poncho. It is like being caught in a sudden downpour….and it continues until the boat finally begins to pull away from the Falls. Believe me…..he boat trip is interactive! There is a vast difference in looking at the Falls from the serenity of the observation deck…. to almost being a part of it it…. The spray of the water, the roar of the plunging water, the electric excitement of the moving wall of water….the vastness, the breadth and length…..the angry, churning pool as the water crashes into the river below….

Yes…. We had finally found a second reason to make the trip memorable and worthwhile. I don’t recall how much we paid to see Niagara Falls…..but whatever it was…..it was well worth it…. It was the one and only natural attraction that made the trip worthwhile….the only and only natural feature that I will remember about the more than four thousand miles we drove.

Our trip was now essentially ended. We had driven more than 4000 miles….visited 19 states plus Washington, D. C…..had a great visit with some old friends…..spent an afternoon at an awesome natural wonder…..discovered that “all that glitters is not gold” in a couple over-hyped cities. Two great days out of 14 days is not terrible, I suppose. Now….more driving. But, this time our destination was home. Maybe the most welcome sight of the entire trip.

It is March now. The weather is warm and sunny….. Spring still hasn’t officially arrived….but if you don’t look at the calendar, you would never know it. There are still no leaves on the trees….but some of the early spring flower have already begun to bloom.

In Oklahoma City, however, the weather is warmer, there are leaves on the trees….the sun is also shining brightly there. Why not bring some of that sunshine to Kansas for a few days? So….I decided to drive down to Oklahoma City, pick up Sultan, and bring him back to my house for his spring break.

The plan was simple. I would drive down to Oklahoma City, meet him at the McDonald’s where I dropped him off after Christmas break, talk to the lady who owned the house where he was living….and then we would drive back to my house. I left my house fairly early in the morning. I had planned to arrive maybe 30 or 45 minutes early….and use that time to catch up on some text messages….and maybe even make a telephone call.

All you have to do to get to Oklahoma City is get on the Kansas Turnpike….and head south. You can’t miss. The trip was not very exciting. But, driving on an Interstate highway is rarely exciting. I was approaching Oklahoma City…..but I mis-judged the distance. I was much closer than I thought I was. I stopped to go to the rest room at a service station right off the highway.

I was starting to get just a little bit drowsy. I filled a cup with coffee and went to the cash register to pay for it. I reached into my pocket to get some money. The clerk….a young man who couldn’t have been older than his early 20’s…. said, “Is that all you are going to buy?”

I was just a little nervous. Maybe they don’t like for people to stop use their restrooms without buying something of a little more value. Just a little embarrassed, I answered, “Yes……”

“OK….It’s on the house…..”, he said. “Have a good trip.” Maybe he actually thought I had filled up my car with gasoline….or maybe people from Oklahoma are just nice people.

Before leaving, I asked him how far I was from Oklahoma City. Wow….Somehow my calculations were far off the mark. I was almost there! “Oh, good,” I thought. “I will have plenty of time of write the messages.”

But….I checked my cell phone. I had 2 or 3 calls from Sultan. I called him back. Shock! He was already there…at the McDonald’s waiting for me. Something I hadn’t planned on. No messages now…..

I was soon back on the road. And, sure enough, Oklahoma City was just a few miles down the highway. I approached my exit….and as I came within sight of McDonald’s, there was Sultan. He had seen me, too…..and he was waving his arms to attract my attention. As if I need that. This land lady had dropped him off early…..having faith that I would actually show up, I guess. But, we soon loaded his suitcase into my car….and headed back to Kansas….and the Ranch.

Sultan wanted to drive back. And….Why not? It would be getting dark in a couple hours….and then he would have to drive anyway. Time went quickly as we talked. We made one pit stop somewhere on the Kansas Turnpike…..but basically kept driving until we got to Topeka. Sultan was hungry….as usual….so we stopped at a Subway on South Topeka Blvd. There are Subway restaurants all over Topeka…..but this is the largest one I have ever seen…. Not only in Kansas….but anywhere in the USA. But, we didn’t linger long…. We were eager to get back home.

Fridays are almost leisurely days….even when I am at home alone. On both of the Fridays that Sultan spent with me, we ate lunch with our friend, Sam. Sam is a friend of mine….dating back more than 50 years to the days we spent working for the International Voluntary Services in South Vietnam. One day while I was looking through names and addresses of IVS alumni, I came across Sam’s name. Wow…. He lives in Topeka. I didn’t know that. I wonder how long he has been there? Was it the same Sam that I had known? Surely it had to be. I immediately sent him a message….along with a picture that was taken back in those days when we were actually young. I got a quick response. Sure enough…..it was he. And, he even remembered me!

I was still working back in those days…..and so was he. We made an appointment to meet somewhere in Lawrence on a Saturday….a place called “Wheatfields”, I think. We ate in Lawrence a couple times…..I am not sure why. But, it didn’t take very long before we realized that simply eating in Topeka would be much more convenient and time effective. The first lunch was maybe 20 years ago….. I am not sure. I was still working, at least. And, it a tradition that has pretty much remained constant until even today.

Sultan spent two Fridays at my house. The first Friday, we went to the China Pavilion. This is one of our regular eating places on what turned out to be a 4 week rotation. China Pavilion has arguably the best Chinese food in Topeka. It is an economical buffet….one of those places where we can sit and talk….and not worry about wearing out our welcome. We go there often enough that the people who own the restaurant know us….and we always receive good service. This is usually one of the places that Sam chooses when it is his turn to select.

The other Friday that Sultan was here, we ate at the Billard Cafe….at the Billard Airport. This was my choice….and it has become a regular eating place. We pretty much stick to our regular restaurants: The Golden Corral, The China Pavilion, the Billard Airport Cafe and the Globe Restaurant. It is a good variety of cuisines…..American, Indian and Chinese. The Billard Cafe seems to be run by one family….and a friendly family, at that. We are always made to feel welcome when we eat there. As are the other restaurants….this one, too, is a buffet. The food is definitely American. The selection of food is rather limited…..but it is delicious and well prepared.

Not only is the food good….but there is also the novelty of sitting in the large dining room and watching private airplanes take off and land. Well….I suppose it really isn’t that exciting….but it is something that you can’t do in one of the downtown restaurants….at least, you had better hope not.

Sultan also prepared another of his delicious, creative meals over an open fire. As usual, the main ingredients were chicken…..a variety of vegetables…..and the inevitable rice. All of his gastronomic creations usually contain chicken. But, that is only because goat meat is not readily available in this area. Actually, one time Fayez and I did find a place that sells goat meat…. But, it was expensive…and full of bones. It was not, Fayez informed me, the kind of goat meat that is sold in Saudi Arabia. So….we are quite content to settle for chicken.

Sunday lunch, as usual, was reserved for the Aladdin Restaurant in Lawrence. The last time Sultan and I ate there was during the Christmas break….in the middle of the winter. It was a rather cold day. I am sure I could have handled the cold….but Sultan is a boy from the desert…..and he would much rather endure 100 degree temperatures than be exposed to freezing temperatures. However, this Sunday afternoon in mid-March the weather was perfect….sunshine, temperatures in the mid-70s. Even somebody from Saudi Arabia couldn’t complain about it.

After we finished eating lunch, we drove to the Kansas University campus….the home of the Jayhawks. A person cannot help but feel inspired when walking around the campus, soaking up the long, illustrious and storied atmosphere of this venerable institution of advanced learning….. Also, one is enveloped by the mystical legend of Kansas basketball, Allen Fieldhouse….Home of the Jayhawks. This is where college basketball originated….for all practical purposes….and the spirits of James Naismith and Phog Allen are still alive.

But….it was Spring Break….and it was Sunday. Not a good combination. Allen Fieldhouse was closed….as well as the Jayhawk museum….and other associated buildings.

Since it was such a beautiful day, a walk down Jayhawk Blvd. seemed appropriate. We parked our car in the parking lot across from the east entrance to the Student Union Building…..right next to the school of religion. We strolled along Jayhawk Blvd. and I pointed out some of the various building….especially the buildings where I had classes when I was working on my Masters Degree in counseling back in the late 60’s and early 70’s.

 

 

 

 

The campus was virtually deserted. A few people, like Sultan and I, wandered about aimlessly….just enjoying the stately, but relaxing, atmosphere of the campus….with its mixture of sleek modern buildings mixed in among the mostly old, historic structures. It was still mid-March, so there were no leaves on the trees yet….but many of the early flowering trees and shrubs were in full blossom….the dogwood trees, the red bud trees…. As we strolled down Jayhawk Blvd., it was easy to feel that spring was indeed in the air.

After I had pointed out some of the well known buildings that lined the Boulevard…Bailey Hall, Frazier Hall, Strong Hall, Hoch Auditorium…. We walked back to the car across from the Kansas Union. I showed him what is probably the most striking sight on the campus…..the Bell Tower and Memorial Stadium. The Bell Tower, a memorial to the veterans of World War I, is difficult to photograph with people in the picture. Basically, there are two choices….both more or less unfavorable…. You can take a vertical shot….in which the person looks like a midget. The other choice is to take a traditional horizontal shot….and cut off the top half of the Tower. Memorial Stadium, on the other hand, makes a great picture. It is far enough away that it was easy to include Sultan….and the entire stadium. Actually, the pictures of the stadium usually turn out much better than the K. U. football teams that plays in the stadium. But….unless absolutely necessary, we don’t bring up that matter for discussion.

Sultan was suitably impressed by the campus…..I think. Impressed enough to enroll there someday, I hope. However, we skipped the tour of the West Campus…where most of his classes in engineering and science are taught. And, those are probably the courses in which Sultan will be most likely to enroll.

 

 

 

 

But….enough was enough. Sultan was getting tired. Or maybe it was I who was getting tired…. We drove to the Ranch. I took a nap….. Sultan took the golf clubs and practiced teeing off while I rested from the excitement of visiting my alma mater again.

The next day, Monday, March 14, we embarked on a journey to Sam’s farm. What made this trip so special was that it was the first time I personally drove the car. On previous trips, either Fayez or Oliver drove. Usually when somebody else volunteers to drive….I hand them them keys and say, “Gentleman…. Start your engine.”

 

 

 

 

 

The trip got off to a rather foggy start….. Yes…literally. The fog was so thick that visibility was only a few feet. I have driven to Lawrence hundreds of times over the years… I mean, I attended K. U.; I had season basketball tickets for thirty years; I shop and eat there. But….somewhere along the way, I became aware that I had no idea where I was. Remember in the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy said, “I don’t think we are in Kansas any more.” Well….that was sort of the way I felt. It was not only a little bit scary….but a little surreal. How is it possible to get lost driving to Lawrence? I don’t know the answer to that question? Drive while you are high? Drive in your sleep? Or…..maybe….drive in the fog? Being reasonably intelligent (I mean, after all…I did graduate from from K. U.)….I turned the car around and retraced our path. It is only logical that if you retrace your path….you are going to end up where you started from. This is what happened in our situation. I recognized my mistake….Darned fog….and we were finally on the right road…..heading toward Lawrence.

With a little help from our “friend”…the GPS….we found Sam’s farm. Sam was already there. After the normal small talk, we walked out back of Sam’s barn to look at some trees. Of course, I had already seen them before. But, this was Sultan’s first time at Sam’s farm. When Sam suggested that we walk down a hill to look at some other work he had done…. my sense of self-preservation kicked in. Walking down hills is pretty easy…… A problem arises, however, when it is time to walk back up the hill. I figured this would give Sam an opportunity to explain the details of planting and growing trees to Sultan. And, it would give Sultan a chance to ask Sam any questions he might have about the operation.

So….as Sam and Sultan disappeared into the distance, I contented myself by taking pictures of the several rows of new chestnut and pecan trees growing in the distance…..and exploring the area around the large machine shed. Sam has an address sign now…. Ah, ha….a photo opportunity. There is a small private cemetery adjacent to Sam’s property…. Many of the graves are more than 100 years old. Another photo opportunity. After the options for taking pictures were quickly exhausted, I turned my attention of answering text messages. My fingers are simply too big to accurately type on the small keyboard of the Smart Phone. I have to use a stylus. And, that….for me….is time consuming. I was only about a third finished with writing the messages when I looked up…..and there were Sam and Sultan….already returned from their exploratory walk.

 

 

 

 

Sam always provides a delicious lunch….so the interruption was not entire unwelcome. After lunch was consumed, we drove to a field west of the machine shed….which is sort of the “headquarters” for the farm right now. This part of the property is separated by a stream…..a stream with no bridge. Fayez and I suggested long ago that a new bridge would be a welcome convenience to speed up “commute time”….but thus far….No Bridge. Anyway……This field is here Sam has grafted several trees. Again….since I have already observed the procedure….and since this would be the 1st time Sultan had observed the grafting process…. (He has a more scientific mind than I do…. ) but…mostly because I simply did not feel like walking….Sam and Sultan took off walking again…to the field where the trees were being grafted….while I stayed at the car to wait.. We had driven both of our vehicles…. Because we were going to head back home after Sultan had seen the grafted trees.

After taking a few pictures, I resumed writing text messages….one letter at time with my stylus. Actually, I was hoping Sultan might be gone for 30 or 45 minutes. And, maybe he was… But, as always….time goes fast when you are occupied….and before I knew it, there was Sam and Sultan heading back toward the car.

As always, the time we spent at Sam’s farm was a pleasant few hours. I don’t know very much about planting and growing trees…. But I do know that the farm is located in a quiet and beautiful setting….mature trees, flowers left from previous owners, rolling hills, a meandering creek….and even a cemetery next door…..a perfect location for a country residence….or a golf course.

The visit to Sam’s farm was the “educational” (as well as pleasure) part of Sultan’s sojourn at my house. Normally, we just do….stuff. The days just sort of flow by….nothing very “heavy” or serious….doing this and that….whatever happens to come to mind. That is…whatever happens to come to mind in between the events that are scheduled and planned….like the trip to Sam’s farm, for example.

 

 

 

 

One thing that Sultan did NOT to during this visit was…run. Sometimes I get the impression that Sultan does not like to run as much as I thought he did. I am not so sure why he didn’t run during the eight full days he was here. Yeah….part of that time we were gone….away from home. The other days…..I am still somewhat puzzled. During the Christmas visit, he ran the four miles Ferguson Road course to get his Ferguson Road t-shirt….a shirt that he claims to cherish! On this visit….well, he never ran even one step.

But….nothing could keep him away from the fitness center. That was one place where is always wanted to go. Sultan is an avid workout enthusiast. He almost never refuses an opportunity to go to the fitness center…..day or night. And, in our case, it was mostly at night. He has his workout routine fairly well refined….and defined. Before he goes, he can always tell me almost exactly what he intends to accomplish…. What muscle group he will concentrate on….how many reps….which machines he will use.

So needless to say, we spent a few nights at the fitness center. For the most part, he works independently. I do my thing….such as it is….mostly arm and shoulder weights…and he does his thing….whatever he has chosen for that particular session. Whenever he needs a “spotter”, I am always willing to help him. Otherwise, he quietly and efficiently goes about his business. Always, however, flashing me one of his trademark smiles on frequent occasions. And….let me add…. We….or more accurately….I…learned my lesson. If it appears that anybody “official” or anybody who works there is around…..I immediately put $5.00 into the collection box!

The final “big event” of Sultan’s holiday at my house was a trip to Farmington, Arkansas, to visit Dorothy….one of my two living first cousins. I try to make sure that I take all of my foreign guests down to meet her. She is now 91 years old. But, don’t let that fool you. She is still sharp as a tack (as the cliché goes). Her memory is far superior to mine….and I am not exactly young anymore. She still drives her car. She still does her own housework….fixes her own meals….and all that good stuff. In other words, she is far from being a helpless little old lady!

Anyway, she (and my cousin Raymond) always seemed to genuinely enjoy meeting my guests. Fayez had already had the pleasure of meeting her…..and, she loved him!

Thus….we planned a trip to Farmington. It was only a two day trip. Down one day…back the next. I booked a motel room in Carthage, MO, for Wednesday night….less than a couple hours from Farmington. We would stay there overnight and arrive at Dorothy’s house around mid-morning. That would give us enough time to visit….and to eat the delicious meal she was sure to have made for us. If we left her house by 2:00, we could comfortably be home before dark.

It was to be a routine trip. All the plans had been made. But, first, I had a doctor’s appointment in Topeka. I figured that would not take very long. Actually, the appointment, I am sure, was primarily so the doctor could collect his money from my insurance company…..and very little to do with me. We packed our stuff into the car….and took off for Topeka. From Topeka, we would head south on US 75, cut across to Ft. Scott, then Nevada….and finally to Carthage where we would spend the night.

As fate would have it….and I suppose it was lucky fate this time….I decided to stop and fill the car with gasoline before I went to the doctor’s office. When we left the doctor’s office, we could immediately head south on US 75. As usual, I stopped at a service station in North Topeka to fill up. With the tank filled with gasoline, I got back into the car, turned on the key….. And…Nothing Happened! Not even a faint “click”.
This had happened before….actually at least two times before. One time in the mid-winter, I had just finished walking at Lake Shawnee and heading off to do the shopping. Tired and exhausted, I turned the key….And…Nothing. I called AAA. It would be more than an hour before the service truck arrived…..and the sun was giving hints of setting in the West. Being stranded at Lake Shawnee at night is probably not a desirable thing to happen.

A Deputy Sheriff stopped and asked if I was having a problem. “Call us next time,” he said. “We can probably help….and it will save one of your visits from AAA.” Nice to know….but a little late to find out…today, at least. The guy from the auto club arrived, quickly diagnosed the problem….installed a new connector to for the battery cable….and pronounced it “cured”. So much for that.

The second time I experienced this problem was at the exact spot where I was sitting…same station….same pump….same problem. I recognized the problem immediately. That wasn’t much comfort….but at least, I knew what was happening.

I called AAA again. As usual, explaining the exact location is a lengthy and sometimes frustrating ordeal. The agents who accept these service calls are definitely NOT from the Topeka area. I can almost visualize them sitting somewhere in India or Mexico…..puzzling over Google Maps….trying to figure out the various locations. Both of the locations in Topeka are in very obvious, highly recognizable areas. I mean….the west side of Lake Shawnee by the boathouse? A service station at the intersection of US 24 and North Topeka Blvd.? How much more obvious can a place be? Anyway, it turned out that the locations were not so obvious to the individuals I was talking to. At least she knew there was such a place as Topeka, Kansas.

It was too late to go to the doctor’s office. I called them, hoping they would understand my situation….and not charge me for an office call. They did. Anybody who thinks joining the auto club is a waste of money has certainly not lived my life…..with my cars. It has been so useful that I upgraded my membership. Many automobile insurance policies include some sort of roadside assistance. Maybe they are just as good as AAA. I don’t know…..if I have never tried them. But, AAA is uniquely set up to handle such “emergencies” and distress calls quickly…..and efficiently…..and politely.

Of course, I was blocking a gas pump. It certainly was not my fault….and there was little I could do except wait until the service truck arrived. The representative classified my situation as a “top priority” since she understood the gas station was no doubt losing money because I was blocking one of their pumps. In about 30 minutes we saw a truck with the familiar AAA painted on its side. Again, it did not take very long for the guy to figure out the problem. He installed a new connector…..just like the guy at Lake Shawnee did….I think. But…. He also told us that we should take the car to a mechanic and find a permanent solution. With the trip on the line….and with the doctor’s appointment duly canceled, we decided to drive back to my mechanic at the junction of K-4 and K-92. They messed with it for a while…. We were in the waiting room, so I have no idea what they did….. But, finally, the service manager told us that he thought is was safe to start off on our trip….. But…..that we should bring the car back as soon as we returned.

So we happily…..albeit nervously….departed on our journey to Arkansas. Now that we were no longer in Topeka, we had to settle for the perhaps shorter….but more complicated….route. But, the with our programming ingenuity, we avoided Kansas City….and took a more rural, less busy route into Missouri where we got onto I-49 and headed to our overnight stop in Carthage.

With the assistance of the GPS, we had no problem finding our motel. I parked the car, and we went inside to register. After registering, we returned to the car to go to our room. And….Surprise, Surprise! The car wouldn’t start. We opened the hood of the car…. Why? I am not really sure. Isn’t this what everybody does when their car won’t start? I was preparing to call the AAA…again….when a very large black man emerged from the motel room directly in front of our parked car. He was a rather intimidating looking guy…. I was hoping that we were not parked in what he might think was “his” parking spot. But, he immediately walked over to us and asked if we were having a problem. I explained the problem. He asked if we had a hammar. Fortunately, we did. While, I turned the key, he tapped something under the hood of the car. The car started immediately! He must have been a former mechanic….or, more than likely, he just knew more about cars than I did! Anyway, he showed us how to lightly hit the battery connection. “It will work every time,” he said.

Despite my prior request, we had been assigned to a 2nd story room. That would be acceptable….except the motel had no elevator. There were no rooms available on the ground floor…..so we had little choice but to carry our bags up to the 2nd floor. This was no problem for Sultan….. But, for me….it was a struggle….and I was not happy. On top of that, one of the lamps did not work…..and we practically had to use a flashlight to see our way around the room!

A day or two later, I received the normal questionnaire in my e-mail, asking me to rate the motel. I normally ignore these surveys, or I respond to these questionnaires in a perfunctory manner…. But, this time, the unpleasant experience was still rather fresh in my mind. I gave the motel an overall good review…. But, I also very aggressively described how unhappy I had been with both the failure to be placed in a ground floor room….and also about the lighting.

Did you know that motel managers sometimes actually read these reviews? I certainly did not. I figured they are a lot like the little survey I get from the doctors after each visit….. They make it looks like they are concerned about my feelings and my impressions and my suggestions. Actually, I think they are really a public relations ploy. Nobody actually reads them….or really cares what you think. But….Wow! A couple days later, I received an e-mail message from the manager of the motel apologizing for my unfortunate experience…..and telling me that the next time I stay there….Yeah, right!….he will personally guarantee that I will be assigned to a ground floor room…..and that it will be inspected and in perfect order when I arrive.

They did have a good breakfast, though! But….the car? I probably don’t even have to tell you…..do I? But….we remembered the advice of the guy from the afternoon before. “It will work every time…..” And, sure enough….it did. It is rather embarrassing to have to open the hood of the car and hit the battery cable every time we wanted to start the car. How much more Hillbilly….or Redneck….can a person appear? But….it wasn’t like we had another choice. And, after all….we were in Southern Missouri! “When in Rome……”

We headed on to Dorothy’s house….past the vast retirement villages and golf courses that line I-49 for miles in northern Arkansas. Retirement villages that are far too expensive for my budget…..

We arrived at Dorothy’s house around 11:00 or so…. They….Dorothy and her daughter, my 2nd cousin….were happy to see us….and made us feel at home immediately. There are always a lot of interesting things to look at in Dorothy’s house….or in this case, her apartment. Pictures painted by Raymond, my cousin….family photos….mementos accumulated throughout her long life….handmade craft items made by them and their family….. And, of course, Dorothy had many stories to tell to Sultan….about her early life….about places they had lived….about their jobs…..about their family…..

These were all stories I had heard previously…. But, to Sultan, they were new….and interesting….and I think, fascinating….

We were on a rather tight schedule….our time was limited…. Lunch was soon served. Oh, Wow! I had neglected to tell Dorothy that Sultan is a Muslim…. Looking back over prior visits, we were always served chicken….or hamburgers….. Always a rather “picnic” style lunch. Dorothy has even gone so far as submitting a series of menus to me before our visits, so I can choose the most “heart healthy” diet.

This year….again, Wow! The unexpected happened. She had prepared ham sandwiches! A look of shock and confusion covered Sultan’s face when he saw what was being placed on the table. I very quickly….and in the nicest way possible….said, “Oh…Sultan can’t eat pork.”

Dorothy was embarrassed…..apologetic…. It never occurred to her that Sultan could not eat pork…. But, as always, Sultan was very gracious and very accepting of the mistake. The cheese slices that were being served were plenty thick enough to make a sandwich in their own right. Sultan was perfectly contented to dine on cheese, lettuce and tomato sandwiches…. Along with whatever else was served that noon. The crisis was averted….Sultan was content eating his lunch….everything the rest of us ate…minus the ham. It worked out well…. I am sure I ate Sultan’s share of ham….along with more than my share of cheese.

Lunch was delicious…. Pictures were taken….. It was time to head back home. We had a four and a half hour drive ahead of us. So around 2:00, we said our good-byes….and hit the road.

This was the final “big event” of Sultan’s visit. I suppose all good things eventually come to an end. The next day….Friday….was a busy day. We were up early….our bags already packed and ready to go. The end of our day’s activity would take us to Hutchinson, where Fayez would pick up Sultan and take him back to Oklahoma City.

But, first…..there was the little matter of the battery cable. We arrived at the mechanic early. They quickly replaced the battery cable….and maybe even the terminal. One really never knows what mechanics do. You just try to have faith that they are telling your the truth! And, in my case….I trust them. Next we headed to Holton to drop off the computer at the computer repair shop. I would leave it there over the weekend and pick it up on Monday when I returned home.

Then we got on US 75 and drove to Topeka. We met Sam at the Billard Airport Cafe….one of our regular eating places in the monthly rotation. It turned out well, because, as I said previously, Sultan had never been there before…..and it would be a new and, hopefully, unique eating experience for him. Even though Billard Airport is only for privately owned small airplanes……no big passenger jets here……it is a pleasant place to sit and eat and watch the occasional light aircraft take off or land. And….the food isn’t so bad, either. It is served buffet style…..and it an all-you-can-eat type of place. The choices of food are somewhat limited…..but it is well prepared and delicious. It is also a place where we can sit and carry on a conversation without any fear of glaring eyes warning us to finish our food….and get out. But…..we were rather in a hurry…..so we didn’t linger any longer than was necessary to be polite.

We were on our way to Hutchinson…..about three hours from Topeka. We checked into our room at the Atrium Motel. Since we had a couple hours before it would be time to eat…..I did what I always do up on arriving at a motel: I took a nap. And….strangely enough….I think Sultan also took a nap. Maybe all the fun and frivolity of the past week had worn him out. Or…..maybe he was simply tired because he got up early that morning.

After eating our supper at the Sirloin Stockade….about a block away on 17th Street….we returned to the motel and sat in the bar…..the Grand Slam…..talked for a while…..went back to the room….and went to bed.

Fayez arrived around 10:00 the next morning…. Without any ceremony, we loaded Sultan’s stuff into the trunk of the car….. and, off the drove into the proverbial sunset.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah….. We worked some….and we played some. But, that only tells part of the story of Sultan’s three week stay during the Christmas Break.

Christmastime on the Ranch

This was Sultan’s first ever Christmas. And, I can imagine that he was just as puzzled and bewildered about the holiday….and all its traditions and festivities….as I would be if I were to spend Ramadan in Saudi Arabia. Since I actively participate in most of these traditions and festivities….Sultan would have a first hand and intimate view of many of them. Since Christianity is a very welcoming and embracing….not to mention non-threatening….religion, Sultan was gladly accepted and included in the entire celebration of the season.

Almost unwittingly on my part, Sultan began his Christmas season experience almost immediately after he arrived. On or about the first day of December, I begin to listen almost exclusively to Christmas music. Christmas music is among my very favorite music. I could listen to it all year long, with absolutely no hint of boredom. Well….I say that, although I have never tried it. But, it is, in fact, music that I like very much. In the beginning, I am not sure Sultan even knew that it was Christmas music….although I am sure I told him at some point. He must have suspected, however. I am pretty sure that he never mistook it for rock and roll.

The Saturday before Christmas, we went to the mall. I didn’t want to buy anything….I just wanted him to see Santa Claus….in person. It is a sad fact of life that Santa, too, only works during regular business hours. He probably belongs to a Santa Claus union. At any rate, by the time we arrived at the mall….somewhere around 5:30 probably…..he had already packed up and gone home for the evening…..no doubt, all the way back to the North Pole. So….no real-life Santa. Oh well….maybe Sultan is a bit too old to believe in Santa Claus. (Although I was going to do my best to convince Sultan that he is real. Every kid needs to believe in Santa Claus….for a day, at least.)

Another of the rituals of the Christmas Season is the ubiquitous school Christmas program. Of course, they aren’t called Christmas programs any longer because they are part of the public schools….and because it seems to offend some narrow minded non-believers….(And probably not so much offends them as it does give them a chance to cause trouble.)…..and because our Constitution clearly separates Church and State….. Now they are called Winter Programs or something like that. But…let’s face it….they are Christmas programs.

During the twenty or so years that I taught in junior high school and elementary school, attending these programs….whatever they happened to be called at the time….was a “command performance”. In other words….I had no choice. That was deemed to be part of my job. So, with few other choices, I endured probably a total of twenty of these affairs. I doubt if you will find a lot of teachers who will use the word “enjoyed”…..because they are basically an ordeal. Herding the kids to the gym for practice….trying to maintain some sort of order while the young, restless, bored students sat through endless rehearsals until they “got it right”. And….in the end, the parents don’t know what is right….or what is wrong….and they couldn’t care less. They are only enthralled in seeing their little angel performing in front of an audience.

When I left classroom teaching and became the school counselor, one of the biggest perks was that I no longer had to go to the Christmas Programs…..and I didn’t. I did go to the high school program the year Oliver lived with me, because Oliver was in the high school band.

I never went to a program again until 2012, the first time Fayez stayed at my house. During the Christmas break of 2012 – 2013, Fayez and another student….a guy from China….stayed at my house. As part of my “cultural education” program, I decided that they might enjoy the program. Before the first song was completed, the Chinese kid had already fallen asleep. Yeah….I mean he had fallen sound asleep. Since he was sitting on the far side of Fayez, I couldn’t nudge him back awake. And, he was sleeping so gracefully, that we just let him sleep. He finally woke up when the program ended and everybody stood up to leave. I have to give Fayez some credit: He stayed awake for the entire program….even though he didn’t understand a single word that was being sung.

The second time I took Fayez, we went to the elementary school program. The program went on interminably. I fully expected to see the sun rising in the east when it finally came to an end….and we had to fight the crowd as they all rushed for the door. This Christmas, however, things seemed to be a little more under control. For one thing, Sultan and I went to the high school program….not the grade school program…. And, at least, the high school kids seem to be able to walk to and from the risers by themselves without a lot of adult supervision. The main problem this year was that the entire audience was seated in the bleachers….bleachers with no backs on them. Normally, rows of chairs are set up on the gym floor…..and if one gets there early enough, at least he has a back on his chair. When the program was over….and it was actually over in a reasonable amount of time….although no less boring than the programs that preceded it in years past….I was afraid I would not be able to stand up….let alone walk to the car. But, with Sultan’s help, I accomplished both of these tasks. When we reached the car, I asked Sultan what he thought. He just smiled. I don’t know if it was a smile of appreciation or a smile of relief that it was finally over.

About a week before Christmas we put up our Christmas trees. I don’t want to make this seems more impressive than it really was, though. I have two little Christmas trees, each about two feet tall…..artificial, of course. They are already fully decorated….stored away in plastic trash bags. Each Christmas….when I have guests around….we get the two trash bags out of the closet….take out the trees….set them on tables….and plug them in. This is how we put up our Christmas tree. Actually, it isn’t a very sentimental or nostalgic occasion. The entire operation from walking to the closet in the back bedroom to plugging the cord into an electrical outlet takes maybe five minutes. It is sort of instant Christmas decorating. However, as was the case with Fayez the first time he stayed here during the Christmas season, this was also the first time Sultan had seen a real Christmas tree…. He won’t have the nostalgic memory of adorning the tree with icicles and ornaments and roping….. We didn’t set out any cookies and milk on Christmas Eve….or hang any stockings (although I had considered that possibility)….. Santa Claus would have to go on a diet that night….

On Christmas Eve, my church…the First United Methodist Church in Topeka….always holds a service which starts at 11:00 P.M. and ends at the stroke of Midnight…..the start of Christmas Day. It is probably one of the few times that the church is packed…the other holiday being Easter Sunday. The service follows a traditional pattern of lessons and carols. In keeping with the Methodist custom, there is an abundance of music….much of it sang by the congregation. The service ends with the singing of Silent Night. The sanctuary is darkened, and one by one candles are lit by passing the flame down pew person to person. At the conclusion of the song, the lights are turned on, and the people go out into the Christmas night with the playing of Joy to the World by the pipe organ…..and bells chiming into the night air on the outside.

Here again…..I doubt if Sultan understood much of what was happening….but he did enjoy the beautiful Christmas hymns. And, I think he may have been just a little impressed by the candle lighting ceremony.

For me, one of my post-Christmas service rituals is to drive down Wanamaker Street…arguably the busiest street in Topeka….before returning home. I am sure this is the only night of the year when this street is eerily void of traffic… “Not a person was stirring….not even a mouse.”

Christmas Day dawned dark, dreary and rainy. Sort of a miserable day. I played Santa Claus and gave Sultan his Christmas gift. Again….I am not really sure he understood why he was getting a gift. But, I explained to him the best I could that it is a custom to give gifts at Christmas time. Of course, I did not receive a gift from Sultan. He had no clue about this tradition. Maybe next year he will remember….right, Sultan? Anyway, just having Sultan visit was a sufficient gift for me.

For the past several years, I have eaten Christmas Dinner….Christmas lunch, actually….at my friend Sam’s house. A I have said on previous occasions, eating at Sam’s house is always a culinary adventure. Both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners are “traditional” insofar as the food served. There is almost always chicken or turkey, potatoes, salad, vegetables….. But, what is different is the unique manner in which they are prepared. There is always a new twist….a secret ingredient….or two…or three. Who knows? Maybe these are the original ingredients that the Pilgrim mothers used in those first mythical Thanksgiving meals. Perhaps the first settlers brought these spices or herbs with them…..or maybe the Indian women passed on the secret over a cup of English tea. Whatever…. But I can bet that the Indians liked the food so much they kept showing up on a regular basis for more. They would have if they had eaten at Sam’s.

I am always pleased to note that Sam uses the same coffee that I do….the kind that comes in the little individual tubes. And….for the few people who do not already know…. In the words of Richard Nixon, “I am not a cook!”

We can’t leave Christmas dinner at Sam’s without mentioning the cookies. Those delicious chocolate chip cookies….with an ample supply of pecans thrown in. They are the first thing we spot as we walk into his apartment…..and when we leave, we are carrying them home with us is a plastic bag… A gift from Sam, of course.

On a nice Christmas Day, before we headed back for the ranch, we would go for a short walk at Lake Shawnee or perhaps the Governor’s Mansion. But this year when it was time to leave, the rain was still pouring down steadily….so we just went home…..Full and content.

The high point of any Christmas season is always the events and activities that we so closely associate with the holiday. “Jesus is the reason…..” The Gold Medal.

On the Road Again…….

Winning the silver medal this year, was the trip Sultan and I took to my hometown…and the haunts of my youth…..Lyons, Sterling and Hutchinson. Both Sultan and I agree that this was a memorable and fun trip. I always think it is fun to show my guests where I lived….grew up….went to high school….to college… The site of my first job….where I hung out on weekends…. But I always run the risk that visiting these places is going to be a lot more fun and interesting for me than it will be for whomever is with me.

Our first stop was Lyons. Actually none of places of my childhood are still standing. The house we lived in is long gone….and the land has been developed into an entire neighborhood. My old grade school still has the same name….but it has disappeared in favor of a modern building. The junior high school building burned down years ago….and only a vacant lot stands were it used to be. The movie theater, the Duckwalls Store, the malt shop….all ancient history now. The library where I checked out all the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books has been converted into a museum. Of course, the court house is still standing in the center of the square…slightly refurbished, but still standing. The town is still “Lyons”….but not the same Lyons I in which I grew up several decades ago.

 

 

 

The same situation is true of Sterling….my co-home town. The house where we lived on West Washington is gone….and the large lot we owned has been subdivided and has several new buildings. The hospital, which was almost directly across the street from us, was long ago converted into the art department for Sterling College. The ancient high school building that I attended my freshman thru junior years is now the site of the United Presbyterian Church…..the church I used to attend during my college years. Even the high school where I graduated is only a shadow of itself. Only the front facade is recognizable….the building have been expanded several times over the years.

Sterling College is still there, of course. But, it, too, has been expanded. Most of the old original buildings where I had classes have been re purposed….new buildings have been added. Downtown is no longer the quaint collection of storefronts, but has been transformed into a more modern, sleek little town. The original Dillon store where I worked all through high school and college has been closed and a modern store has been built across the street, built in the modern “Dillon” style. I have always thought it was a shame for Dillon’s to so consciously and willingly destroy a significant piece of their history. But….Dillon’s is not a charitable organization…. It is a business intent on making money.

Sterling Lake is still there. At least, it hasn’t been filled in to make room for “progress”. Sterling Lake was our hangout during the long hot summers….. A spot where one could go swimming….or have a picnic….or go for a stroll…. It was the site where the big Fourth of July celebrations were held….. And, it still is. Improvements have been made over the years….amenities added…. A walking path that circles the lake has been constructed….. But, it is still Sterling Lake. Sterling Lake was memorialized back in 1955 when Hollywood came to town. The award winning movie “Picnic” was partially filmed there, using the lake as a backdrop. Kim Novack, Rosiland Russel, William Holden all came to town and dazzled us local yokals with their glamor for a few days. A few lucky residents even appeared in some of the beach scenes….. Although I was not one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our final destination for the day, however, was Hutchinson. Hutchinson was our “big city”…..our “Topeka”…..when I was growing up. I has also changed remarkably. But, the changes are simply too overwhelming to even start on.

And….anyway, it wasn’t one of my hometowns….only our shopping and entertainment capital. I did, however, teach in Hutchinson for a year and a half back in 1961-1962. I had resigned from my job as teacher at Fairplay School up north of Lyons after one year because the selective service was breathing down my back….and I expected an imminent, urgent invitation from them to join their little social organization….called the U.S. Army. The summons had not arrived by mid-summer. The job at Prosperity School became available. I do not remember how I found about the job…..but I did. I applied for the position….and they hired me.

My job was to teach seventh and eights grades…..coach track, coach softball, and coach basketball. Actually, this job was a big step upward from the job at Fairplay. I only had to prepares lessons for two grades….not four grades. That more or less cut down my daily preparations from twenty-four preparations to ONLY twelve preparations. Plus the fact there were three other teachers to talk to….two rather full time cooks….a custodian…and a part-time music teacher. Plus….It was located just a couple miles north of Hutchinson in a suburban setting…..and not eight miles out in the boondocks.

During the year and a half that I taught at Prosperity School, I lived in three different places….all of which were in very cramped quarters. But, at least, I didn’t have to drive twenty miles to work each morning. Today, when I look for these three houses……I cannot remember where even one of them is (or was) located. It is just as well, I suppose. I do recall, however, that the second house I lived in was quite near the home of Ray Dillon…..then the president of the Dillon corporation.

So far, it had not been a very exciting trip. Maybe things would pick up a bit in Hutchinson. They did….I suppose. We approached Hutch from the north, driving south on Plum Street. We passed by Prosperity School…..now located well within the populated area of the city. When the comprehensive school consolidation took place in the mid-1960’s, Prosperity School became part of the Buhler school district….not the Hutchinson school district. It has long since closed….as part of cost cutting measures taken by the school district, I suppose. There is a For Sale sign posted in front of the building. It has been sitting vacant since it was closed…..just waiting for a buyer, I suppose.

We checked into the Days Inn Motel….located between 11^th and 17^th Streets. After eating supper at a buffet across 17^th Street, we spent the remainder of the evening at the Grand Slam Bar…..located in the motel next door to ours. It was still basketball season, and we watched K.U. play…somebody….as we sat and talked.

Wednesday morning, December 23^rd, we ate breakfast and then drove to our first major tourist destination in Hutchinson……Strataca….The Kansas Underground Salt Museum. The museum is located in a portion of what used to be the old Carey Salt Mine. It is abandoned now….all the salt having been removed from it…..leaving vast underground caverns made entirely of salt. Salt walls, salt ceiling, salt floors…. In fact, everywhere you look….there is salt. Of course, there is no vegetation anywhere to be seen. The city of Hutchinson…..or some enterprising organization…..has converted a huge area into a museum. One thing we can be sure of…..there is no lack of space for the exhibits. There are several exhibits of the geology, the chemistry and the uses of the salt…..

Everybody was loaded onto a train….and we set off to explore the mine. Aside from the scientific explanations….and there are plenty of them….there are abundant displays of the machinery that is used….or has been used….in the extraction of the salt. The mining of salt is a laborious job…..not to mention dangerous. Charges of dynamite are used to free the salt from the walls. This task is accomplished at the end of the work day by highly trained and skilled workers. By the time the workers arrive at work following morning, the dust has settled….and the salt is ready to be transported to the processing phase….where the salt is transformed into a usable form.

All of the machinery and all of the vehicles which have ever been used in the salt mine are still in the salt mine. Once they are taken down into the mine…..they never return to sunshine. The big machinery is partially or completely dismantled in order to fit onto the elevators descending into the mine where they are reassembled. It is far too expensive and unprofitable to repeat the process to return them to the top of the mine. They are used until they are no longer serviceable….and then stashed somewhere in an empty part of the mine.

While all the technical exhibits are interesting and informative….and I do not even begin to claim I have a mechanical or scientific mind…..the exhibits that I found to be the most fascinating where the commercial items which are stored in the mine. Since the temperature remain constant at around 65 degrees….and there is virtually no humidity….and since it is fireproof…. it provides an excellent place to store historical artifacts with no worry about deterioration. Thus, the salt mine is a major repository which many companies use to store historical merchandise. Among other things stored in the salt mine are thousands of reels of Hollywood films….thousands of tapes and films of TV programming…..documents from major corporations…..memorabilia from major movies and TV programs…..printed material from major publishing companies…an original UNIVAC computer, so large that it would occupy almost an entire room…. While touring the Underground Salt Museum, it is possible to also receive a pretty good history lesson, too.

Aside from all the educational and commercial functions which is obviously the main purpose of the museum, it is also widely used for other functions. For example, it is a popular venue for banquets, wedding receptions….even marriages…., reunions and parties. Think how great it would be to tell your grandchildren that you were married in a salt mine. Probably not many couples would be able to say that….or maybe even want to say that. There is a dinner theater held in the salt mine in a theater specially built for that purpose. The Boy Scouts use it on a regular basis for campouts and jamborees. What fun that must be.

The Scouts just have to hope the electricity doesn’t go out! If there would ever be a power failure…..the mine is left in total darkness. And, I mean TOTAL darkness. While riding the tram through the mine, the driver stops and the power is turned off. While the power is off for only a few minutes, it is long enough to realize that total darkness….the complete absence of light…..can be very disorienting….and very disturbing. For me, at least, it is about as close to being plunged into “nothingness” as is possible. Maybe this was what it was like before God said, “Let there be light!” It is an interesting experience….but only for a short time.

Back on the surface of the earth, in the beautiful March sunlight, our next destination was the Kansas Cosmosphere…..perhaps the most popular and famous attraction Hutchinson has to offer….if you subtract the Kansas State Fair. The Cosmosphere, for those of you who are not familiar with it, is a museum and exhibition center devoted to the exploration of space.

It seems that I have visited this place so many times that they should probably hire me as a tour guide. And, I have probably spent enough money on admission tickets to retire rather comfortably to a tropical island somewhere. The first time I went….many, many year ago….it was new, interesting, maybe even fascinating in its own novel way. The second visit was also rather entertaining, as well. But….after that….the tenth, eleventh, twelfth….. Well, the novelty quickly faded away, and the exhibits were not quite so compelling. But, for a person who has never been there before….and especially for somebody who is interested in science….it is a real treat to look at the authentic….real life….space artifacts…..and a ton of original space memorabilia.

There are vehicles that actually landed on the moon…..drove on the moon….left their tire tracks on the moon. There are a bunch of space capsules that have been launched into space….circled the earth….and returned to earth safely…..with the burn marks from re-entry still very much visible on their surfaces. Among the most interesting of the exhibits….to me, at least…..is the original Sputnik, the space craft that the Russians sent into space…..thus starting the so called “space race”……launched by President Kennedy….mostly as a face-saving public relations campaign. But, in the end, this splashy beginning….this attempt to mask our embarrassment….this effort to put a bold face on our injured pride…. All of it was taken up by subsequent Presidents, and eventually the U.S.A. did become the undisputed leader in space exploration.

The scientific aspect of most of the exhibits sort of leave me behind. I do not have a very scientific brain! I do, however, recognize the importance of all the various spacecraft and vehicles and machines…. They are not only historically important, but they are also very significant in explaining why our nation dominated space travel and space exploration for so long…..paving the way for the contributions of several other nations in more recent years. And, I always hope that they will impress my exchange students and my long-term guests.

There are some interactive exhibits in which the people are free to participate. My favorite interactive exhibit is an infra red body camera….I suppose that is what it called. If a person stands in front of it….it will almost instantly measure or “read” the temperature of your entire body. It is rather interesting to see which parts of your body are hot….and which parts are cool.

Sultan and I wandered around the museum for a while, checking out the various exhibits and artifacts. Part of the museum was closed for renovation…..thank Heavens!….for me, anyway. I think the average person eventually reaches a saturation point when it comes to looking at stuff like this. My saturation point comes progressively sooner and sooner with each repeated visit. My feeling about spacecraft is much like it is with many other things: After I have seen the first dozen of them….I have seen them all.

As we left the Cosmosphere, I asked Sultan if he enjoyed it. Of course, he smiled said he did. (Surprise, surprise!) A few days later, I asked him what his favorite part of the trip was, and he admitted that he liked the Salt Museum the best… I can understand this. For one thing, the Salt Museum is more of a novelty….there is a bigger of variety of exhibits….there is the train ride….. But, a trip to the Kansas Cosmosphere is a worthwhile stop when visiting Hutchinson.

The sun was still shining brightly when we left the Cosmosphere….still a few hours from supper time. What better time to visit Hutchinson’s one and only Dairy Queen. It has moved from its downtown location where it was situated for decades….dating as far back as my high school and college days. But you can’t stop progress, I suppose. The old Dairy Queen was strictly a drive-up or walk-up little store….open only in the warm months of the year. Nobody wants to stand in line any more. However, with the help of the Internet, we located the new one……located several blocks on Main Street.

After a couple hours of standing at the Cosmosphere….and remember, nobody likes to stand….it was comforting to treat ourselves to a delicious Blizzard….and sit down and relax for a while. As we were ordering, I had to explain to Sultan what the menu said. He had not learned enough English to recognize many of the specialized words on the menu. The girl who was taking our order asked Sultan where he was from. Sultan told her that his home is in Saudi Arabia…..that he in was studying English in Oklahoma City.

“Oh,” she said, her face brightening. “We have a person here who also speaks Arabic.” Later the guy came to our table and introduced himself. He was obviously the owner of the Dairy Queen. Sultan and he exchanged a few words in Arabic. And, before we left, I told Sultan that it would be nice if he would go and say good-bye to the guy…..and maybe give him an opportunity to speak some Arabic. Sultan did this willingly….but he returned much sooner than I had expected. So….I suspect that very few words were exchanged. I suppose I didn’t really expect them to engage in a lengthy, intimate conversation. But….I thought it was a nice gesture.

We visited the Hutchinson Public Library where my second cousin is the children’s librarian. She was rather shocked to see us. I suppose it is not a daily occurrence that one of her cousins that she sees only once a year at the Kansas State Fair suddenly and without any warning drops by. However, I introduced her to Sultan, and we had a brief, but very pleasant, conversation. And then we moved on, leaving her to do more important things.

We ate our supper at the Mexican Buffet on South Main. I really don’t recall how or why we started going to this place. I can imagine that Fayez wanted to go there the first time he came up and went to the State Fair with me. Anyway, it became one of his favorite places to eat….and it seems we have always gone back. Actually, it is a popular place. Anyway, there are always a lot of people there. But, in my opinion…the food is really not that good. But, on the other hand…..what do I know? Mexican food is not one of my favorite foods, so maybe this place is world class….and I simply don’t recognize it.

As I usually do when I am in Hutchinson, we capped off the evening by sitting in the Grand Slam Bar where I am sure there was another basketball game playing on the TV. It is a sports bar, after all. I like this bar because it appears to be safe….it is located in a hotel; it is clean and spacious; it is a place where a person can go and spend the evening and not have to worry about overstaying his welcome; there is enough background noise that we can talk and not be overheard…..but (usually) not so noisy that it still easy to carry on a conversation.

One time Fayez went there at night. After a while, we noticed that we were the only people left in the bar. “What time do you close?” we asked the girl.

“Oh….don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you want,” she told us. We left a short time later…..and we noticed that as soon as we reached our car, she had already turned off the lights. We felt rather bad….. But, business is business, I suppose. We did leave her a generous tip!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Rest of the Story……

Christmas and the trip out to Central Kansas were no doubt the two major events of the Christmas Break. But…..the fun was only beginning. The days were filled with merriment and laughter.

Ice Skating

Out of the wild blue yonder one day, Sultan asked he if could go ice skating. I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly. They go ice skating on the desert? Now…there is a novel idea. That would be analogous to having camel races at the North Pole. After I made sure I had heard him correctly….and questions like “Do they go ice skating in Saudi Arabia?” and “Do you know how to ice skate?” and “Have you ever been ice skating before?” and “Where did you learn to ice skate?”……Sultan told me that there had been an ice skating rink in a hotel where he and his sister had stayed…..in Dubai, I think.

Sultan claimed that he was pretty good at ice skating. He had learned how to skate in Dubai….and had become very proficient…..if not a semi-pro. How was I to know any different? I mean….Sultan is a very good athletic….and he seems adaptable to almost any sport, I suppose.

Well….much to his delight, I told him that there was indeed an ice skating rink in Topeka…..and I would check to see if it was open to the public…..and, if so….when was it open. Lucky Sultan. The ice rink was open to public skating on the Saturday following Christmas. We immediately made plans to go there. We showed up promptly at 12:30….the appointed hour. After some problems with the shoes….which can be rented on the spot….Sultan made his way out onto the ice.

I stood for a few minutes as I watched him attempt to navigate his way around the ice rink. I could sense almost immediately that there was a problem. Soon he can “limping” back to the lobby where I was waiting. There seemed to be a problem with the shoes. They exchanged the shoes for him….. Soon he was back on the ice…..rather slowly skating his way around the arena….staying very close to the outer walls…..and occasionally using them for support. After a couple revolutions, he seemed to be doing well enough…. So I went up into the seating area where I could sit and send some text messages…..and wave at him and take some pictures each time he passed by.

Sultan never fell down….at least when I was looking. On the other hand, I never saw him doing fancy “figure 8’s” or leaping into the air….or spinning around in dizzying circles.. Yeah…..I rather doubt if he is quite ready for the Saudi Arabian Olympic Team…but he had fun….and that was what was important. But….on the other hand….maybe he could have qualified for the Saudi Arabian team. I doubt if anybody else ever tried out.

Rummy

Maybe I made a mistake…..but probably not. I taught Sultan to play rummy. Most of you people know how to play rummy. It is one of the “basic” card games. This game is not bridge….or poker…..or canasta…. In so far as I know, it has never been considered as one of the “brainy” card games. Yeah….it requires some skill and concentration. But, more than anything else, it requires a great deal of luck. If you don’t draw the right cards, you can have all the skill in the world…but it isn’t going to do you much good! Like most games, Sultan was very serious about playing rummy.

While I was teaching him to play, the winner was simply the first one to run out of cards. This really isn’t a very valid way to keep score…..I mean this really IS mostly luck. And, it was not because Sultan was beating me. But, I soon taught him to play be the correct rules…..Total Points. Playing the correct way…..by keeping track of total points…..requires a bit more time…..and it also requires using a little bit of strategy….and it requires a little bit of risk…..and a little bit of nerve.

If you would ask Sultan how he did…..he will probably tell you he won every game. But….Not true!! In the very beginning, he will have to admit that I gave him a great deal of advice….corrected his mistakes…..answered his questions….let him change his mind…… Yes….I could have been a bad guy and leave him completely on his own. But….as you know….I am nicer than that. That would have been like me playing basketball against Michael Jordan! That’s my side of the story….and I am sticking to it!

On any given night, the number of wins was almost equal! I kept the score sheets for a while…..but unfortunately I threw them away. Now I have no proof. But, playing rummy is a fun way to wile away the time on a cold night. It is sort of a waste of time….. But, we had plenty of time to waste…. So let’s just say it was fun…..although Sultan’s memory is probably a little bit fuzzy when he tries to recall how many games he won.

Where Shall We Eat Tonight? ……

Meals were always a point of discussion…. Many times Sultan prepared our evening meal. And, if he ever decides not to become a doctor….I can certify that he will make an excellent chef! The things that Sultan can do with a couple pieces of chicken, a few vegetables and some rice is remarkable. In just a few short minutes, he can transform them into them into a tasty, delicious treat. I can imagine that some poor chicken might consider it an honor to give his life to become part of such a delightful feast.

And, Sultan….just like me….is learning that washing a bunch of dirty dishes can take the fun out of preparing any sort of meal. He has learned the skill….or perhaps it is really an “art”…..of putting as many ingredients as possible into one skillet or one pan….sort of skipping the “middle man”. And, the fact that we consistently use paper plates makes the meal…..and the resulting clean up….a real pleasure.

During his sojourn at my house, I added a new “dish” to my repertoire of food I am able to prepare…..along with the chili, the burritos….and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I can now make homemade pizza! I still need to refine my skills a little bit….do a little more experimenting…..maybe add a few innovative touches here and there….. But, nevertheless, I made some pizza. Along with the able assistance of Sultan, of course. The end product was certainly edible….maybe even bordering on the periphery of being delicious. Oh…to be sure, I bought the pizza crust already made at WalMart. But, I did the remainder of the work…..the part that makes it pizza.

We had only one culinary disaster. And, I will take the credit….or blame for it. Let me immediately point out that I followed the recipe to the letter. My major mistake was in not thinking of the consequences of the finished product…..or of the implications of the ingredients in the finished product.

Our friend Sam gave us some pecans when we ate lunch with him on Christmas Day. He has given us pecans every year for the past few years…..and we simply ate them. Pecans are delicious, if you haven’t tasted them. This year, however, I decided that we should really put them to good use. Why not bake a pecan pie? Come on now…..even you have to admit that is a rather good idea.

I searched the Internet for a simple recipe for pecan pie…..and there are lots of them available. After settling for a recipe that appeared to be something within my range of gourmet abilities, we picked up the ingredients at WalMart….and waited for an opportunity to bake the pie. The opportunity came soon….one of those cold nights when we were at home with nothing better to do. We confidently assembled all the ingredients….all the spices, the eggs, the milk…..and the sugar….Brown Sugar. Mixing all this stuff together went pretty well. I think we were rather proud of ourselves as we put the pie into the oven to bake.

There were two major factors that turned this sweet project “sour”. After we put the pie into the oven to bake…..for probably 35 or 40 minutes…..we immediately became occupied doing something else…… Maybe playing rummy. At the end of the time…whatever it was….we went to check on the pie. It was immediately obvious that we had left it in the oven too long. It wasn’t exactly burnt…..but I was by all means “over done”…. And, there was the obvious odor of burnt sugar…..burnt brown sugar.

For me, this was not a serious problem…..and probably wouldn’t be for most people. Aren’t most people accustomed to eating burnt toast…burnt pizza….burnt cookies….burnt hamburgers….. sometime in their life? So….no….this was not not a major problem for me. Certainly no reason not to eat the pie. But…..to Sultan? He took one whiff of the smell….and instantly decreed that he would not eat it! I am not even sure he even bothered to taste it…..either then or when it eventually cooled off.

The problem of the slightly burnt taste was not an insurmountable obstacle for me. I will eat almost anything that looks like it might be edible…..unfortunately. What I had not taken into consideration was the vast amounts of sugar the pie contained. In fact, I think we can safely say that the main ingredient was…..brown sugar. The fact of the matter is…..I generally do not eat sugar….or anything that contains a significant amount of sugar. It was been years, for example, since I have eaten any dessert with my meals. I do not put sugar on my cereal….or in coffee….or tea….. I simply do not eat sugar.

I rather conflicted. Since Sultan refused to eat any of the pie….there seemed to be only two viable options remaining: throw it away…..or eat the pie myself. When I say I was conflicted…well, that probably was not true. I simply decided to eat the pie by myself….rather than throw it away and waste all those ingredients….and waste all the time it took to make the pie.

Of course, I didn’t eat the entire pie that night…..or even the next day. Give me some credit. I do have a little bit of common sense. But….it did disappear slowly, but surely, over the next few days. It has been years….and I mean a couple decades….since I have indulged to any extent in eating anything that contains a large amount of sugar. And, now, in the space of just a few days, I had eaten about two cups of sugar…..My body probably was probably in a state of shock wondering what the heck was going on. For the next few days, I felt light-headed….unsteady on my feet….short of breath….just sort of “out of it”. I knew almost instinctively that somehow the problem must be somehow related to the sugar.

It was a lesson….and an irresponsible lesson, on my part….learned the hard way. But…I am not going to let Sultan off the hook so easily! If he would have eaten his fair share of the pie…..I would have only eaten ONE cup of brown sugar. At any rate, that will be the end of my pie making efforts for quite a while to come.

We ate out quite a few time, though. That saved us the hassle of buying and preparing the food. Northeast Kansas is not the culinary capital of the nation…..but we do have a variety of interesting and appetizing places to eat. And, we probably covered them all….from the fake…but expensive….Italian food at Olive Garden to the most delicious ice cream ever made….Dairy Queen. One of our favorite places to eat is the Golden Corral. It has a wide variety of well-prepared food…..and we feel free to sit and talk for as long as we want. We also visited China Pavilion….arguably the best Chinese restaurant in Topeka. Along with Sam, we also ate at the Globe Restaurant….which serves delicious Indian food….and also the Airport Cafe at Billard Airport. If you have never been there….try it….you’ll like it. All of these places are buffet….all you can eat places. And, all of them are friendly establishments where you are free to sit and visit without being made to feel “unwelcome”.

On Sunday it is our custom to eat at the Aladdin Restaurant in Lawrence. It is a Lebanese restaurant which serves buffet style for its Sunday lunch. In Hutchinson, one of our favorite places to eat is the Mexican Buffet on South Main Street. It is a popular place for the residents of Hutch….and it is also an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. I don’t know….it is really nothing special…..but a lot of people seem to go back time after time….including us!

And…..there is always our favorite bar….Terry’s Bar and Grill. We really don’t eat our meals there very often….although it has happened before. But each time we go there, we always feel obligated to order some sort of food….mostly to justify the two or three hours that we spend there. They do serve delicious, well-prepared food, however….and you probably can’t go wrong by eating there. If you only want a snack….order the nachos with cheese. They are yummy.

Let is Snow….Let it Snow…..Let it Snow…..

Having been born in the desert…..and probably having lived in a tent with an oasis right outside the tent flap….with camels….and sheep, of course…. grazing peacefully on the lush grass surrounding the oasis…..and having to endure desert sand storms like we brave blizzards….. Snow was a novelty to Sultan. It is a phenomenon that he seemed to enjoy….much more than the typical Kansan….. And, certainly much more than I do.

Depending on how you want to look at it….and from Sultan’s viewpoint it was delightful…..we were blessed with a healthy covering of snow during the Christmas season. We took many opportunities to go “play” in the snow…..if play is the proper word to use.

It was very cold when it snowed……and the snow flakes fell gently…..but steadily for several hours…..covering the ground with a soft, powdery layer of white. The temperature remained well below freezing….and the snow fell as a soft….but “dry”….flakes.

Most kids do not like this kind of snow…..because the snow is too “dry” to pack into snowballs…..or to roll into bigger balls to make snow men. It just isn’t a lot of fun. The most a person can do is pick up the powdery cold stuff and throw it at somebody. But, even then, the flakes are so cold that they usually just blow away in the wind.

This was the general situation Sultan and I faced. Our dream of building a snowman was ironically an “impossible dream” because the snow was too “cold”. On the other hand, this fact probably worked out well for me…..because I really had no desire to engage in any sort of close combat…..such as having a snowball fight! Predictably enough, this didn’t prevent Sultan from picking up handfuls of snow and attempting to throw it at me….. But, it was a futile effort on his part. The snow simply disappeared into the air…..with probably more of it blowing back into his face than into mine.

Sultan had fun lying down in the snow…..and making snow angels. The snow was perfect for that. That is probably the only way Sultan will ever come close to being an “angel”…..so I encouraged him to take full advantage of the situation. As for me….well, what can I say? In the first place….if I had gotten down on the ground…..I probably would have never been able to get back up again. I suppose Sultan may have helped me….but not until after he showered me with snow! So, I left the fun to him….and I contented myself with taking pictures…..and laughing.

Yeah……the snow was a novelty to Sultan. When the weather forecast predicted snow….he was excited and could hardly contain his excitement while we waited for the flakes to start falling from the sky. I had told him…..just like I told Fayez…..that, Yes, at first the snow would be fun and enjoyable……a unique diversion….a new experience. But…..all those feelings would fade rather quickly. Soon the “new” would wear off….and snow would become only a cold, wet, messy substance. The recognition came to Fayez rather soon….within hours, in fact! With Sultan…. It probably took about a day….or maybe two days. And, then, like most sane people….enough was enough. Snow, snow….go away……and Stay away!

But for a few brief hours, we had fun in the snow. It was different….a anomaly to be savored….a circumstance to be enjoyed….a circumstance to be experienced. Then….reality steps in. Snow is snow…..and it is cold; it is messy; is can be dangerous. Snow is snow….let it go.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Sultan’s visit come to an end all too quickly. Somehow I was under the impression that his semester break would last until the middle of January….like almost every college and university in the nation. But….unfortunately, the next term of his language school started on the first Monday in January. Instead of staying for five weeks….he was only able to stay for three weeks.

On Sunday, January 2, we loaded his stuff into my car…..and we took off for Oklahoma City. The language school had located a private home where Sultan could live. I was not at all looking forward to driving in the city. Driving in strange cities is something I gave up many years ago. The woman who owned the house where Sultan was going to stay agreed to meet us at a McDonalds located just off I-35. This was something I thought I could handle.

It was sort of a bittersweet occasion. Having Sultan stay in my house for three weeks was a true delight…..and I knew I would miss him. But….there is always Skype….good old Skype. And, there are always other vacations and breaks when he will be coming back to my house.

We found the McDonalds with no problem. It was an easy and convenient place to meet his new host. Sultan moved him suitcase from my car to the woman’s car….along with various other stuff.

“Don’t forget to take the cookies,” I told him. Sam had given us a few dozen chocolate chip cookies with pecans in them. They were delicious. I knew that if I kept them…. Well…I would eat them! And, eat them quickly! So, I gave them to Sultan…..who accepted them gladly. Now….at the moment of truth, he was too embarrassed to take the cookies with him. So, they remained in the back seat of my car……just more sugar…that I didn’t need…..for me to eat.

I waved good-bye to Sultan…..and I started back home immediately…..and drove as far as a town called Perry, OK., where I stopped to spend the night. Early in the evening, my cell phone rang. It was Sultan. “Did you find my cell phone charger?” he asked. “I either left it in your car, or I left it at your house.”

I told him I would check the car and let him know. I did a search of the car….in all of the obvious place: the glove compartment, the side door compartments, between the seats, the floor…. No cell phone charger. I called him back. “I didn’t find your cell phone charger, but I will check as soon as I get back home”.

The next morning when I was putting my suitcase and laptop into the car, I saw the sack containing the cookies. A light went off in my brain immediately! Oh wow! I bet his cell phone changer is in that sack with the cookies. Sure enough! There it was….in the sack of cookies that Sultan was too embarrassed to take with him. “Should have taken the cookies, Sultan!” I texted him the good news…..and continued on home…..Alone….but with pleasant memories of a great visit.

Is it possible to make a life-long friend in just one hour? Especially with a person who doesn’t even speak the same language? Or who has a different religion? Or whose customs are about 180 degrees away from yours?

I think it is possible. And, I think that recently I just did it.

Sultan came for a brief visit at Thanksgiving. We were thrown together almost immediately without the benefit of any sort of intermediary or interpreter. There sitting beside me in my car was a young stranger…..and yes….one who could barely speak a word of English. And, me? No….my knowledge of Arabic is very sub-standard. Non-existent, in fact.

We managed to make it through a brief tour of Valley Falls…..and some of the surrounding territory…. Specifically…Paradise Point. Through the use of gestures, one syllable words….and a lot of silence….and lots of smiles….we established a form of communication that lasted at least until we came back home.

For the brief time were at home….we had Fayez, Sultan’s brother….to serve as a go-between. But, mainly….as is usually the case when there is an odd man out in speaking English (or any language)….Fayez and spent the time talking to each other….largely excluding Sultan from our conversation.

Later that night we found ourselves at Terry’s Bar and Grill. And, we found ourselves in largely the same situation: I speak English. Sultan speaks Arabic. My ability to speak Arabic hadn’t improved. And, neither had Sultan’s ability to speak English. But, there we were…..sitting across from each other…..looking at each other expectantly. And, we would be there for the next three hours! One alternative was to sit in silence…..to pretend to watch one of the ball games playing on one of the bar’s many TV screens.

But, we didn’t chose to do that. By now, we had both downloaded Arabic-English dictionaries onto our cell phones. We were equipped with a ballpoint pen and napkins to write on. We were also equipped with a desire to communicate with each other. So….one simple step at time….sometimes one word at a time…..we began to carry on a simple, slow….but real conversation with each other. We were taking the first small steps to an understanding and friendship that would grow as the weeks passed by.

Sultan returned to my house on December 12 to spend the Christmas break.

The foundation for our friendship had already been laid. Now the building could begin.

LEARNING, TALKING, LAUGHING…..

By sheer necessity, a lot of the three weeks Sultan spent in my home was devoted to learning the English language. He had been in the U.S.A. only two months. And, normally a person doesn’t become fluent in English…..or in any language…..in a mere two months. Sultan was attending a language school in Oklahoma City. And, as could be expected….they started from the very beginning. I got the distinct impression that they were concentrating more on grammar rules…sentence structure….verb tenses…. Stuff like that.

That is all good. Somebody had to teach that, if he were to learn to speak fluently….and coherently. And….that is a long, almost never-never ending….process. Most students in the public schools of the U.S.A never master that skill. In fact, I am not even sure it is taught any longer. Maybe schools have given up on it….considering it to be a lost cause. A great many of today’s teachers don’t even know how to speak correctly…..speak proper grammar the way that somebody back in the olden days decided it should be spoken.

And…..this is not a problem….except to those language purists who insist that every original rule be followed. I am not implying that schools no longer teach English….or language arts, as it is called today. They do…..and students are tested over it. I think it more the fact that nobody ever bothers to follow the rules. After all…. What is the main purpose of a language? To communicate with each other. Right?

Well….getting back to the story…. I was not….and for the most part….am not….so concerned about Sultan following the rules of correct English grammar and sentence construction. I was….and still am…more interested in helping him develop his vocabulary……add to his storehouse of words. I figure that these two approaches are extremely complimentary to other. His language school can teach him the “correct” way to say things. And, I will help him expand his vocabulary to we can talk about more and more things. After all, I have had a ton of experience in listening to….and understanding….foreigners speak as they continue to learn the language. For the past fifty years or so, I have worked with Vietnamese, Germans, Chinese, Koreans, Italians, French, Polish……to name the ones that come to my mind immediately. And….I have also worked with more than a few Americans who didn’t exactly speak good English, too.

We took every opportunity to learn English. Early on….immediately after he arrived for his extended Christmas break stay…..I gave Sultan a little spiral notebook to carry with him. He could write down all the new words he learned in this little notebook…..and we could use them as a basis for our conversations. He carried his little notebook with him wherever he went…..and he used it faithfully. In fact, I rarely saw him without it. Even at times I least expected, he would take out his trusty little notebook….either to write down a word….or to practice using words in sentences.

If he is nothing else (and he definitely is)…..Sultan is nice. He is rarely without a smile on his face. Fayez told me….even before I had met Sultan….to be careful. Even he did not understand a word I was saying, he would probably smile and shake his head “Yes”. Guess what? Fayez was right!

Many times I would say things to him. Sultan would smile brightly. And…to any unsuspecting person, it would appear that he had understood completely what had just been said. I quickly developed the habit of saying, “Do you understand that I just said?” or more than likely, “You have no idea what I just said….do you?” More than likely, his answer was, “No…..”

I learned this fact first hand a couple times. When we went places at night, Sultan did all the driving…..no matter that he did not have any sort of valid driver’s license. I would say, “OK, turn right at the next corner.” Sultan would immediately get in the left hand turning lane! “No, No…..turn right! Turn right!”

It turned out that he did not know the words “right” and “left”……two rather important words to know when driving. But, happily, I can say that we survived…..and Left and Right became two of his very first important vocabulary words.

No matter where we happened to be…..at home, in the car, at the fitness center, shopping….we took advantage of the time to learn language. Every place we went became a classroom. One of our favorite “classrooms” was Terry’s Bar and Grill in Topeka. It is a relaxing place to go….and sit….and talk…. And, when I could get his attention away from whatever basketball game happened to be playing on one of the many TV screens…..another of our language “classrooms”.

Whenever we left home, Sultan was always armed with his trusty little notebook and his cell phone, which contained an Arabic-English dictionary. I always carry my cell phone with me, too…..mostly for emergencies. But, it was usually a good thing I had it with me. Sultan’s cell phone was usually not in range of any of his carrier’s cell phone towers! When he signed up for cell phone service, he relied too heavily on Fayez’s advice. And….not so surprisingly….Fayez doesn’t have any cell phone service in this area either. But, be that as it may…..Sultan made constant….and profitable….use of the translating dictionary to add words to his vocabulary.

Most of the time it would probably have been easier and more convenient to simply sit at home in the evening. There is, however, something about sitting in a friendly bar that is conducive to good conversation. So, we spent many nights at Terry’s Bar and Grill talking, learning….and trying to keep Sultan focused on our conversation.

SPORTS….SPORTS….SPORTS…..

Somehow you may have gotten the idea that Sultan likes sports. If you did…..you are absolutely correct. I am not sure there is a sport that does not grab his attention….whether he is actually familiar with it or not. Familiarity seems to be irrelevant. Usually, if there is a ball and a whistle involved…. Sultan is interested in it.

Back in his home country of Saudi Arabia, he played handball….and also soccer. He excelled more in handball, though. The impression I get from Fayez….and also in a round about way from Sultan….he was perhaps the “star” player….and recognized leader…. on his handball team.

Handball in the rest of the world is not the same handball that we play here in the U.S.A. When I was in the Army, I was introduced to handball by my boss….the Commander of Troops at Fort Benjamin Harrison. And….it wasn’t exactly voluntary. He loved the game of handball. And, for some reason, he thought the rest of the world should love it, too. At least, the part of the world that worked in our headquarters office.

Everybody who worked in the headquarters was encouraged to take one hour each morning for physical training…..PT, in Army language. This was a time of day highly anticipated by most of the guys in our office. We could go to the gym….lift a few weights, ride a bicycle, shoot some baskets. Or maybe go for a jog around the Army base. To make PT time even better, I took it in conjunction with my lunch hour. So, around 11:00 or so, my best friend, a guy who worked in the Supply Section, and I would take off for the gym.

This was a great arrangement……Most of the time. But….maybe one or two days a week, our boss…..the Commander of Troops…..would decide that he also wanted some Physical Training…..or PT. And…..he wanted to play handball. And…..he needed a partner. And……that partner usually turned our to be ME or my friend….or both.

American handball….real handball, as we like to call it…..it not a game for the weak or the faint of heart. It is a fast-paced, never-stopping, always moving effort to hit a little hard rubber ball and score points. Don’t be fooled by the term “little hard rubber ball”. I mean it is HARD. And you do not hit it with a racket……you hit it with your HAND. It would probably shatter a racket on the first hit.

If you have ever been in the Army, you know that you do not say “No” to generals very often. (I never did!) So, when he said, “Come on, Specialist Darrah…..or usually just “Darrah”… Let’s go play handball.” I obediently dropped whatever I was doing…..and went to play handball. I never once won a match against him. Didn’t even come close most of the time. But….I always tried to look like I was trying…. And, I suppose….I did try. One thing for sure….when I went back to my office, my hands were swollen and sore. At least, in the beginning. And….that was not good for a person who spent most of the day sitting behind a typewriter! And….just so we are on the right page: It was a manual typewriter. Not a word processor!

This is the brand of handball played here in the U.S.A. But, has absolutely no similarity to the game of handball played in the rest of the world. I am not sure how to adequately describe the game for those people who are not familiar with it…..and most of you probably aren’t. Maybe we can describe it as a kind of dodge ball…..the game kids play in grade school. But instead of trying to hit a person and put him out of the game…..you are trying to throw the ball through a goal in the end zone….. Sort of like “air soccer” maybe. It can be….and it is….a rough game…..a fast-paced, non-stop….very physical game. And….at least, for the first few minutes….a rather interesting game. If you want to know more about it…..go find it on You Tube, and watch for a while.

At any rate, this is the game at which Sultan (and also Fayez) excelled. But….Alas….it is not a game found in the U.S.A. Fayez and I have searched the Internet for a handball league….or even a handball team….in the U.S.A……and none is to be found. Since the dimensions of the handball court have no similarity to a basketball or volleyball court, it is impossible even to improvise a game.

So…..when Sultan set his feet on U.S.A. soil, he said good-bye to his handball playing days….at least, until he goes back home again. Sultan is a highly active young man….and very athletic. Although he could no longer play handball, he could still run…and he could still work out in the gym.

Actually, Sultan is a good runner….and he could probably even be great….if he put his heart into it. But, he is a rather reluctant runner. He doesn’t love it….but he doesn’t loathe it, either. He isn’t apt to suggest it first….but he probably won’t turn down an opportunity, if he has nothing better to do. He usually doesn’t give it his full effort…..but he usually comes up with a fairly descent time. If he is running alone, he maintains a comfortable, but steady, pace. If he is running with somebody….he is highly competitive and does everything in his power to win. His only competitor while he was at our house was Fayez…..and Sultan made sure that he won.

Knowing that he would probably need an incentive to win, I told him that if he ran on the Ferguson Road from Highway K-16 to our corner…..a total of four miles….ten times, I would give him a highly prized Ferguson Road Runners t-shirt. These shirts were made back in the mid-70’s when a group of cross-country runners decided it would be cool to form a running club….and buy matching t-shirts. All sorts of names for the club were tossed about for consideration. The name “Ferguson Road Runners” was the name that was finally chosen……a name so obvious that it was an easy choice.

These t-shirts are about 40 years old. Only 50 shirts were made. They were made by a company in Topeka. We met the owner of the company at several of the cross-country races we attended. He told us one day that if we could decide upon a design, he would print the shirts and sell them to us at his cost…..just because he was impressed by the loyalty and effort and determination he saw in our impromptu group of runners week in and week out.

Our rather informal running club….the Ferguson Road Runners….held together for probably ten or twelve years. Kids drifted in and out…. Over the years, there were somewhere around 35 runners who came and went. The club was never dissolved. It just sort of came to a natural end…..as the runners grew older, graduated from high school, moved, got jobs…..or simply developed other interests. Some years ago, when I was conducting one of my infrequent binges of getting rid of stuff I don’t need…..I discovered the shirts. They have become prized souvenirs….one of a kind….never to be duplicated….highly coveted trophies.

Fayez earned a shirt (actually, two of them, because he lost one of them in the Henry Ford Museum in Detroit) by running the four miles stretch of the Ferguson Road a total….and probably in excess….of ten times. In the case of Sultan, I made a special deal: If he would run five times, he would receive a shirt. He kept his part of the agreement, running his final time the day before he left to go back to Oklahoma City…..and he received his shirt. I think the shirt is now one of his most prized possessions.

 

 

 

 

Sultan quickly established his running pace….and he rarely deviated from that pace. We timed each of his run….and all five of his times were within mere seconds from each other. I have no doubt that if he were being challenged, his times would have fallen dramatically! But, as I followed him in my car, stopping frequently to take pictures….he was never too tired to smile and wave at the camera. But, even running at his rather leisurely pace, his times were better than most people could probably ever hope for.

But, Sultan is a smart runner. I am pretty sure this was not the first time he had run four miles. Maybe it was the first time he had run four miles with a cold wind, freezing temperatures…..and snow on the ground. But he always took the time to stretch his muscles thoroughly…..both before running and after he finished. By doing this, he ran with relative comfort….and suffered few, if any, side effects at the end of his running.

While, Sultan may have been a semi-reluctant runner. He definitely was not reluctant at working out at the fitness center. This was a time he highly anticipated…..and a time that he often had to persuade me to do. Oh….I always took him, to be sure. But, his desire…..and his fondness….to lift weights greatly exceeded my desire.

I belong to a fitness center in Meriden. It is a 24-Hour center…..and each member has a key-card which enables entry round the clock. It is basically unsupervised….and members are on their honor to take proper care of the equipment. And, they are also on their honor to pay $5.00 every time they take a guest. The center, which is composed of two large rooms filled with various fitness machines, is monitored by surveillance cameras. There are several cameras in place. I seriously doubt if anybody is sitting in a room monitoring the activity twenty-four hours a day. But….I am equally certain that each camera is attached to a taping machine…..for use in case they become necessary.

For the few days that Fayez spent with us before going home to attend his brother’s wedding, he argued that nobody care if I took guests with me…..at least, that nobody would find out. Therefore, there was no need of paying the $5.00 per person fee each time we went. Reluctantly…unwillingly…..and against my better judgment…..I let myself be convinced that indeed nobody would ever know…..nobody would ever bother to ask about the $5.00 fee. So…..When we went to the fitness center, I merely used my card to enter….and we proceeded with our workout.

My fears and suspicions were confirmed one night. In fact, it was New Year’s Eve. We were on our way to Topeka to spend the evening at Terry’s Bar. We stopped at the fitness center on our way….expecting that nobody would be there on New Year’s Eve. But….we were wrong. I used my “key card”, as usual, to let ourselves in. There were actually two or three other people there. This must have been their way of celebrating New Year’s Eve. One of these people was a lady whom I had never seen before. She approached me and said, “Would you please write your card number on the sign-in sheet.” This was the first….and last time….I had ever seen or heard of a sign-in sheet. But, I willingly complied with her request, and wrote my number on the sheet.

I knew immediately that she worked there. Fortunately, I had a $5.00 bill in my billfold…and I put in the box where guests are supposed to pay their money. I sighed a sign of relief…..we were covered for the evening. Sultan was happily unaware that this was taking place. We had never paid before….and of course, he believed Fayez, who didn’t think it was necessary to pay. Later on in the evening, the woman came up to me and said, “When you bring a guest, you are supposed to pay $5.00. But, since it is New Year’s Eve, I am going to let you bring him for free. But, next time….be sure to pay.”

Ah, ha! “Oh, I already put $5.00 in the box,” I told her…innocently enough. Just like I had been doing it all along.

“Oh. That is great. Enjoy your workout,” she said.

A little later, as she was preparing to leave, she stopped again and said, “Well, I guess I will check and see if there are any messages in the box before I leave.”

I watched her as she opened the box…..and I can rather imagine the surprise as the actually found the $5.00 that I had put there. Come on, lady. You are not fooling me. You were just checking to see if I actually left $5.00. Another sign of relief. We only saw her one more time….. Or I should say, “I” only saw her one more time. This time I had no cash, so I paid her with my debit card. I think the moral of this story is: Be honest. If you are supposed to pay…..then pay. Don’t assume that the rules do not apply to you…..just like they apply to everybody else. And, never assume that nobody is going to find out.

Sometimes it is easy for other people….the people who are not affected….to take rules lightly. But…this was MY membership at stake. And, I certainly did not want to jeopardize it over $5.00.

Sultan has a fixed routine which he uses when he works out….based on the various muscle groups in the body. Each time we went to the fitness center, he concentrated on a different muscle group…..while I concentrated on staying awake until he finished. No….actually, I went through about eight of the machine weight machines…..doing about 30 reps on each machine. This is roughly 240 reps…… And, I still finished well before Sultan finished his workout.

Sultan lifted a lot of free weights. This sort of worried me. Having been a former weight room supervisor, I recognize the necessity of every individual weight lifter having a “spotter”…..just in case there any sort of problem. Can you imagine a scrawny 145 lbs. kid pinned under a bar containing a hundred pounds or so. I don’t think Sultan would take any unnecessary or foolhardy chances…..but…..Safety First. Occasionally he would ask for my help. But, more than likely, I would volunteer my assistance. And, on many occasions, I would end up helping him lift the weights back to the bar rest when the weight simply was too much for him. The sight of Sultan’s 145 lbs. body lying on the weight bench pinned down by a hundred pounds of dead weight was a sight I did not like to envision. And…..since he did all the night time driving, I would have no way to get back home.

Sultan is very conscientious and dedicated. He plans in advance….and he carries through with his plans. Sultan never entered with gym without a plan and a purpose clearly formulated in his mind. He would go directly to work and work steadily throughout the entire workout. If I asked him at any point, he would tell me exactly how many repetitions of each exercise were remaining. As for me…..after going through the usual eight stations, I would usually sit and watch TV…..or take pictures….look at the clock….and mentally say, “Come on, Sultan. Hurry up….and let’s get out of this place.”

We spent several nights at our favorite hangout in Topeka….Terry’s Bar and Grill. Anytime I have guests, this is almost a sure after dark destination. We are familiar faces to most of the people who work there. Depending on who happens to accompany me, it doesn’t take long before they become acquainted with our tastes….and usually bring our drinks without even asking what we want. That is how familiar our faces are. When Fayez stays at my house during his college breaks, they automatically know that I will order a pitcher of Bud Lite….and Fayez will have hot tea and a lemon. It is usually delivered to our table almost immediately after we are seated at our favorite table.

When Oliver came for a visit one February, we went there at night, of course. Almost immediately after we had taken our seats, the waitress appeared with a pitcher of Bud Lite…..and, of course….a cup of hot tea and a lemon. Oliver looked at it with a rather puzzled look and said something like, “What’s going on? Why can’t I have some beer?”

I started laughing. I knew immediately what had happened. They simply assumed that he was Fayez. The waitress was embarrassed and apologetic…. But, in a way, it was sort of comforting and reassuring to know that we were an accepted customer….and they were taking good care of us. And….Oliver did his beer.

When Sultan and I went to Terry’s, the dozen or so TV sets were like a magnet to his eyes. They were all tuned to ESPN or Fox Sports. It didn’t make much difference what sports was playing….Sultan usually appeared more interested in watching the TV than he was in carrying on a conversation. Most of the time….especially in the early days after his arrival……he usually had no idea was was happening. This was chiefly true when an American football game was in progress…..a game with which he was not knowledgeable. But….the sport could have been anything…..the luge….or acrobatics…..or fencing….or …….you name it. Sultan simply likes sports. He was will watch any sports…..and appear to be completely engrossed in it…..even if he has no idea what it is.

Such is his love for sports. As for me….if I do not know the team….and if it is not one of my favorite teams….and if I do not like the team….I couldn’t care less about it. On TV here in the U.S.A., sports proliferates the TV programming….several ESPN channels and even more Fox Sports channels….not to mention major sports events carried on the Big 3 TV networks…..and all the minor sports specialty channels. Yeah…..I have friends….but only a very few….who are just like Sultan: They will watch any sports and every sport, whether they like it….or understand it. Just as long as it is a sport. Just as long as somebody is competing.

Anyway…..sometimes the biggest competition for me was for Sultan’s attention.

Sultan goes to school in Oklahoma City….and he learned early that, as part of the Big 12 Conference, Oklahoma University and Kansas University compete with each other in sports. Long ago, Sultan became very much aware that I am a loyal and dedicated KU. Fan. And….knowing this… Well, I can imagine you are already way ahead of me in this story. Yes….he immediately became an instant Oklahoma University fan. But, now that I think of it….I guess that reason is as good as any reason….if somebody has to become an Oklahoma fan. Really…..I have nothing against Oklahoma. The only time I am against them is when they are playing the University of Kansas. And, as fate would have it…..they came up against K. U. three times during the basketball season: Twice on the regular season schedule…and once in the Big 12 Tournament. Fortunately, K. U. won each of the three games. And, believe me…..these wins spared me a great deal of grief at the hands….or vocal cords….of Sultan.

So…..as our friendship grew and strengthened, some of it, at least, took place in the fitness center…..and was further enabled by our friendly our mutual interest in sports…..although this interest was probably stronger with Sultan than with me.

Deja Vu

For several weeks, I knew that Fayez’s brother was coming to the USA to attend college. I had never met him….never seen him….knew next to nothing about him. I knew generic, peripheral information about him. I knew that his name was Sultan….but only because I had asked about ten times; I new that he was 18 years old…. I knew that he had graduated from high school the previous spring…..in Saudi Arabia, of course. I knew that he was a very smart guy…. “Smarter than I am,” Fayez had told me….proudly, I think. I knew that Sultan was an athlete….that he played handball on the same team that Fayez had once played on…. Again, Fayez had graciously remarked, “He is a better player than I am.” I knew that he intended to study some form of science. Fayez had initially told me that he wanted to study genetics….. And, I knew that he would be studying language at Southern Nazarene University in Oklahoma City. Fayez had chosen this school for him…..although I have no clue why. It is owned and operated by the Church of the Nazarene…..one of the more conservative Protestant denominations in the USA. And….I know, because that is the church that I and my family attended the entire time we were living in Lyons.

All this information may sound like a lot…..but it is really nothing. All of this stuff can be found by reading a book….or by watching a TV show….or talking to somebody. But, I still had no idea who this guy was….or what he was like. I had suggested to Fayez a couple times that perhaps I could talk to Sultan on Skype….and help him practice his English. But, these suggestions went nowhere.. Now that I think about it…..I had never even seen a picture of him.

Fayez spends his Thanksgiving break at my house….or at least, part of it. Fayez’s birthday always falls just a day or two before Thanksgiving…..so we usually start our Thanksgiving festivities with a birthday celebration….albeit a rather miniature affair….with only Fayez and me in attendance. And, this year was an important milestone in his young life: He turned twenty-one years old! Of course, I do not need to remind American readers how important this day is in the life of a young person….male or female. This is the date that the magic door swings open…..and there lies one of the greatest of opportunities: The right to buy alcohol legally! Never mind that the person has already passed through other doors that had previously been locked. The door that leads to a driver’s license…. The door that leads to the right to vote…. The doors that opens on to legal tobacco….legal lottery tickets….legal contracts….legal sex….. The door marked “twenty-one” is the final door….the big one….the one that contains the “forbidden fruit”. OK….I am talking about normal, red-blooded American, European and Asian youth. But, Fayez is not from America…or Europe…..or Asia. To Fayez, none of these “treasures” seemed to make any difference. Even though I tried to make the day special…it was just another day for him. But….that was not my fault! But….now, I am digressing seriously from the story.

This year he announced that he was bringing Sultan with him. I was looking forward to meeting him….. I mean, I was looking forward to just seeing what he looked like. As I said….I had never as much as seen a picture of him. Not a good, recognizable pictures, at least. It seems to me that Arabs have an entirely different attitude toward pictures than most people have…..the American, the Europeans, the Asians… Or maybe it was simply Fayez. But, however you look at it….I was eager to get a glimpse of Sultan.

Originally, they had planned to arrive around 11:00 A.M. I knew this was never going to happen….because I know Fayez. And, sure enough, sometime around 9:00, I received a text message saying their departure had been delayed….and it would be the middle of the afternoon when they finally got here. Then a little later, I got another message….. This time is was a snapshot of his GPS. Now, I was pretty sure they were on their way. Accompanying this message was a selfie of Fayez….and another guy, whom I presumed was his elusive brother….Sultan. This was the first real picture I had seen of him. Actually, when I looked at it, my first thought was, “Wow….he looks older than Fayez.” He had a definite mustache….something that made him look older, I suppose.

As usual, there was not much to do….except wait for him. And, as usual….I sat in my recliner and fell asleep. And, as usual….I left the front door unlocked. And, as usual….I was awakened from my sleep by a voice saying…..”Wake up, Beryl.” And, standing in front of me…with his ever present smile was Fayez. Only this time, not only was there a smiling Fayez standing in front of me….. There was also a smiling stranger….. A stranger who really looked nothing like the selfie that had been taken a few hours earlier.

But….there was the unmistakeable smile…..almost like the smile that I had seen on Fayez’s face the first time I had met him three years earlier…..when I met him on the road a few hundred feet from my house…..about five hours late after getting lost on his way to my house….. Sultan’s smile was equally as bright….as genuine….as spontaneous….and as inviting….as that first smile I had seen on Fayez’s face. It would become the smile that I will probably associate with him…..just like the smile I will always associate with Fayez. De´ja´ Vu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Birthday Festivities

After the proper greetings, with the requisite small talk out of the way. After the suitcases were properly deposited in the proper rooms…..Sultan would sleep in the spare room, since he would be here for the entire winter break…..and Fayez would be relegated to sleeping on the top bunk in my room….the same place where he had started three years ago…..the birthday festivities began.

Well…..obviously, it wasn’t a big party…..only Fayez, Sultan and I. But…that is bigger than it has been in the previous three years, when it was only Fayez and I. There were no party games….no clowns….no ponies….no dancing….. But…there were fun little hats, the little things that when you blow on them….they unroll in front of your eyes. And, of course….there was a birthday cake…..the smallest one Walmart sells! Instead of lighting 21 candles…..we had only TWO candles: a candle in the shape of a 2 and a candle in the shape of a 1. 21…..Get it? There were birthday (paper) plates for the cake…..and birthday napkins…. And, birthday plastic forks and knives. It was sort of a throw-away party. When we finished eating the cake…..we simply threw everything away. No fuss…no muss….no bother. I would estimate that the party lasted at least 15 minutes!

I don’t think Fayez gets into parties like Americans or Europeans do. And Sultan? I think he was completely bewildered and puzzled about what was actually taking place! Chances are, he had never seen or attended a birthday party in his entire young life. He sat and dutifully ate his cake….probably wondering what the heck was happening. But….it just doesn’t seem right to let somebody’s 21^st birthday pass by without some sort of celebration. I mean….in the USA becoming 21 years old is a monumental milestone in one’s life. And….this is, after all….the United States of America.

Fayez said he did not want a cake. No birthday cake?? That’s almost un-American. Of course, I knew that he even though he said he didn’t want a cake…… He really wanted a cake. And, Fayez…..knowing me like he does….knew that I was going to buy a cake.

“OK,” he said, “if you are going to buy a cake, buy the smallest one available. And…don’t buy a chocolate cake.” These requirements were OK with me. Smaller cakes are cheaper! I ordered the cake at Walmart. It was the smallest cake they sold, the woman in the bakery told me…… Not very big at all. I picked up the cake on Tuesday. Wow…. If they had sold the smallest cake they make….I could only imagine what their largest cake must look like. Actually, we could have fed most our rural neighborhood with the cake.

We ate only a small fraction of the cake at our “party”…..and put the remainder of the cake back into the box….and put the box on the kitchen counter. And, basically…..that is where it stayed….untouched….. until a couple days after Fayez and Sultan left. And, then I threw it in the trash! But, that is beside the point. We DID have a birthday cake.

As soon as the “party” ended, Fayez announced that he was going to go study for his final exams. As he disappeared into his room….Sultan and I got into the car and took off on an trip of exploration. For first stop was Valley Falls, of course. This segment of our exploration took probably a grand total of ten minutes! High lights of the tour included such notable sites as the post office….the school….the swimming pool…..the two baseball fields…..the football field…..and a trip up and down Broadway….or whatever the main street of Valley Falls is called. I have lived here since 1969….and I am still not sure what the name of the main drag is. I am pretty sure it is Broadway….but…it also may be Main Street. It really doesn’t make much difference. There is not much left there any more. There are days when a person can drive down the main street of town….a length of two blocks…three, if you really want to stretch it….and there will be only three or four cars parked on the entire stretch. And, I suspect that most of them belong to employees of the few stores that remain.

Our tour continued at Paradise Point….the abandoned state park a few miles south of my house. I think it is safe to say that Sultan probably found Paradise Point to be slightly more interesting and enjoyable that the tour of Valley Falls. Even in late November when the trees are barren of leaves, it is a quiet and rather beautiful spot to visit. Back in the “old days”, before the budget cuts of the Ford administration, it was a lively, bustling park…..with camping spots, picnic tables, fire rings, restrooms and showers….and relatively good roads. Now….it lies dormant….largely uncared for….infested with acres of poison ivy…..

After our brief excursion we returned home to prepare for our evening’s activities.

The birthday celebration continued with a birthday feast at the Golden Corral. I doubt if Sultan had ever seen so much food…..just sitting there waiting to be eaten. It was a good introduction to American gastronomical delights…..and probably also gave him a hint as to why so many Americans are overweight. For most of the time we spent at Golden Corral, he followed Fayez around…..who helped him identify the vast array of strange foods.

We ended the evening at Terry’s Bar and Grill….our usual late night favorite. Fayez had taken at least one of his text books with him so he could study…..a little bit of over zealousness, I think….so that left Sultan and I to get acquainted with each other.

Let’s face it…. It is difficult to really get acquainted with somebody when neither of the people can speak each other’s language. This rule obviously applied to Sultan and me. My knowledge of the Arabic language is nonexistent. And Sultan’s understanding of the English was…well….about as close to nonexistent as you can get. Let’s compare my knowledge of the Arabic language to a dead battery. You turn the key…..and nothing happens. Not even a click. Sultan, on the other hand: Well, there may have been a click…or maybe even a feeble response. But….but not even close to what it takes to start the car.

With the help of our cellphones….and, I can honestly say this is one place where it actually came in handy…..and the Arab-English dictionaries we had downloaded….we were able to carry on a low…painful….halting…bewildering….conversation. But, throughout the entire two hours of near torture….the smile rarely disappeared from Sultan’s face. Yeah….I would say we took a giant step in getting acquainted.

Sultan’s First Thanksgiving….and the Rest of the Visit

The next day…Thursday…was Thanksgiving….Sultan’s first Thanksgiving. And, it has become more or less a tradition that Fayez and I go to our friend’s….Sam Delap…..apartment to eat. Sam is a good cook. And, his culinary creations are delicious. Thanksgiving meals are sort of traditional….but well….let’s say that they an art form in their own unique category. You know how it is when you walk through a contemporary art gallery? All the pictures are “art”…..but none of them can be crammed into a single style or category….they all have their own special character. That is the way Sam’s Thanksgiving meals are. They are traditional…..but, you know this is probably not the way the Pilgrim mothers had prepared the same meals the day the Native Americans came to celebrate…..if they indeed ever showed up at all. But….let me say this: If the Native Americans (Indians, as they were probably called back then) did sit down with the settlers on that famous day in our history….. And, IF Sam had been the cook…..they would surely have liked his food….and probably would have shown up every weekend for more.

If it had not been for the delightful meal…..and the great time we had at Sam’s apartment…..Thanksgiving Day would have been miserable….a bummer. It was raining when we drove to Topeka in the morning; and it was raining when we left Sam’s apartment to drive back home in the afternoon. If there were any redeeming factors….it was that Sam sent us home with most of the left overs.

The steady rain had diminished to a light rain….almost a heavy mist….by the time the late afternoon had arrived. Fayez was still urgently studying for his final exams. I urgently settled myself into my comfortable recliner for a nap. I don’t remember what Sultan did…..probably he took a nap, too. Poor kid. His brother was busy studying; his host sound asleep in a recliner. What else was there to do…..except sleep?

Fayez is rather obsessive about studying. It seems to consume his life. In fact…..I think it is his life. But, this fact also made it possible for Sultan and me to spend time together that may otherwise not have been possible. Fayez spent most of the visit in his room…..or this time, it was Sultan’s room. Sultan and I were left to entertain ourselves. This was good in a couple ways. First of all….Sultan was actively involved in our conversation. He had to be… It was only he and I. It was entirely normal for him to automatically look at Fayez whenever I asked him a question. And, it was entirely normal for Fayez to simply answer the question for Sultan….eliminating any sort of interaction between Sultan and me.

Or there is a second scenario…..and this happens commonly when there are two people who speak the same language…..and one person who does not speak the language. The two people who speak the same language simply proceed to talk in English….and the person who does not speak the language is simply left out. This is basically what happens when Fayez and I….and Sultan….are together. We simply go ahead and talk….and leave Sultan out of the conversation.

I mentioned this several times to Fayez….. “We need to include Sultan in our conversation.”

Fayez’s most common response was, “Oh, it’s OK….he doesn’t care.”

Well…..I don’t know. Maybe Sultan didn’t care. I never asked him. However, I can speak from a long history of personal experiences……and I can say with some authority: Yes….It does matter. And….Yes, I did care.

My earliest experience in being left out of conversations dates back to my days in South Vietnam. Until I learned to speak the language, I was largely an outsider when I was around Vietnamese. They babbled their unintelligible language…..and I did not have a clue what was going on. Fortunately, Vietnamese people are usually polite enough to make an attempt to include their non-Vietnamese speaking friends….such as I….in their conversations. Of course, I realize that it is virtually impossible for somebody to translate every work that is spoken. I also know that it felt good to be included in their conversations.

My second…..and probably most extensive experience in being left out of a conversation….comes from my experiences in Germany. I have spent time with the families of each of my former German exchange students…..visiting them in their homes. I can recall many incidents when they sat and talked in German, while I merely sat there….uncomfortable…..wondering what they were talking about….and if they were perhaps talking about me. (Of course….they weren’t. I hope.) There was nothing intentional…..or ulterior….about it. They just did not think to include me in their discussions.

A couple rather amusing incidents stand out in my memory.

I was visiting in the home of one of my former German students. I was led to the understanding that my former student and I were going to leave and go check out his town….and perhaps the area around the town. As I sat there waiting to leave, an argument seem to break out…..and in my mind, a rather heated argument. The argument….or maybe I should call is a discussion….went on for what seemed like several minutes. Voices were raised….and the discussion became rather animated.

“Oh, no,” I thought. “They are probably talking about me. Maybe they don’t want (him) to drive the car. Maybe they have something planned. Maybe I had done something wrong.”

After a while, the discussion came to an end. My exchange student turned to me, and said, “Come on. Let’s go now.”

When we were in the car, I asked him what the argument had been about. Was there a problem? “Oh….no,” he said. “We were just trying to decide that kind of bread I should buy for dinner tonight.”

Another such incident took place one evening in Berlin when I invited Frank, one of my former students, and his sister to dinner one evening in a Chinese cafe. It was a pleasant evening as we sat and talked. Both of them speak fluent English….so communication was no problem. Our conversation was interesting and funny. At the conclusion of the meal, we motioned for the check…..which was my responsibility….and which was mine to pay. But, when the waitress arrived, both Frank and his sister looked it over closely…..and they began an excited and animated discussion. I had no idea what they were talking about…. They called with waitress over….and an ever more animated…. No…let’s called it heated…..discussion ensued. There was much pointing….much gesturing….raised voices….. Again….this went on for a minimum of five minutes….probably more. At last, things calmed down. Frank handed me the check, and said something to the effect of, “OK…. You can pay it.”

When we were safely outside on the sidewalk, I asked Frank about the problem. Wow…it seems that they thought the waitress had charged ME for a large size drink….and she only served a medium size drink. A heated, prolonged argument over perhaps a total of 10 cents….. And, as it turned out….there was no mistake at all.

Another incident…..and I promise this will be the last example….occurred during another visit. I was visiting Robert, my German student from 1998-1999. We….Robert, his parents and I….went to the city where Robert’s grandfather….his dad’s dad….lived. During the course of the visit, Robert’s parents took the grandfather out to a restaurant for lunch. Of course, I went with them. We we sat at our table eating. Most of the conversation was in German, of course. At one point, it was very apparent that they were talking about me. They were stealing rather furtive, sidelong glances at me. Nothing very overt or obvious. But, I think most people can sense when people are looking him them. Of course, I certainly didn’t say anything….. Like….”Why are all you people looking at me?”

But, again, when Robert and I were eventually alone, I asked what was going on back in the restaurant…..what were they talking about? “Oh,” he said, “My grandfather asked if you were married. When we told you are single, he asked how you manage to live….without a woman to take care of you….to cook your meals….to do your laundry. He just can’t understand how a man can live by himself.”

I thought it was a rather strange thing to be talking about…..especially in a family gathering. But….I hope I satisfied his curiosity. There I was. Alive. Functioning. Rather well educated and successful. With at least a small degree of sanity. And, I was fully dressed…..in clean clothing….with socks that matched…..and my pants on frontward.

So…..the point of these stories is: Don’t tell me that it is OK…..or that the person doesn’t care. Because I know that it is not OK. And I know that people do care.

And, with Sultan, I knew at the time that what we were doing was rude and inconsiderate….that it was wrong to leave Sultan out of our conversations. And….if could have changed it….I would have.

But….Sultan and I would have other opportunities. That night…..Thanksgiving night….we sat in the front room with a fire burning brightly in the wood stove, and continued the conversation we had started the previous night in Terry’s Bar and Grill. I had downloaded an app on my cell phone…..translating English into Arabic…..and vice versa….which helped our simple conversation along.

Thanksgiving night was also the night that I introduced Sultan to the Kansas Jayhawks by presenting him with a K. U. t-shirt. This is an event for which I can imagine he will thank he for the rest of his life.

During Thanksgiving night….true to what the weather forecast had predicted….there was a mild accumulation of ice. When I first looked out the front door on Friday morning, it was apparent that the world was covered with a thin layer of ice. And, part of that world happened to be the windshield and windows of my car.

Our plan for the day was that I would take both Fayez and Sultan to the mosque in Topeka…..the same one where I always take Fayez when he is staying here. Then we would come back home and make chili for supper. Fayez said that the service….or whatever it is called…..started at 1:30. In order to be there on time, it is a good idea to leave our house approximately one hour in advance…..just in case there are problems along the way.

As is usually the case, we were running a little late. About 12:40 I went out to start the car so it could warm up a bit…..and also to clean off the windshield. Unfortunately, the ice that had accumulated on the windshield and the windows was far greater than I had anticipated. I mean we had a serious ice problem. This was not the kind of ice that could be removed with a few swipes of an ice scraper. It was not even the kind of ice that could be removed with an ice scraper….period. Turning the defroster on full blast was at least a psychological help…….but, not a very practical help….at least, as a quick solution.

The only solution seemed to be boiling water! ……One coffee maker at a time. So this is what we….Sultan and I….did. We boiled a container of water…..took it out and poured it on the windshield…..scraped what we could. Then boiled another container….. Luckily, I have two water boilers, so we were able to keep up the process rather continuously. It worked….but it was a slow process. Remember…..not only the windshield was covered with ice…..but also all the windows. The rear window defroster helped a great deal in melting the ice a little bit….. But, when the entire process was finished….and the car was safe to drive…..it was already after 1:00.

“Do you still want to go?” I asked Fayez.

“Yes, it won’t make any difference if we are a little late.”

“OK…. Let’s go.”

It was after 1:30 when we got to the mosque. I stopped to let them out….and then made a U-turn so I could park my car in front of the mosque. I had intended to sit in the car and write some messages while I was waiting for them to return. I had barely had an opportunity to turn on my cell phone…..much less to write a message…..when I looked up and saw them walking toward the car.

“It started at 1:00,” Fayez said. “Everybody had already left.”

Oh well….sooner or later the ice on the windshield and windows would have had to be cleaned off…..so the effort wasn’t entire in vain. And, I was happy that I didn’t take off and go somewhere while I was waiting.

With the mosque part of the plan taken care of……we returned home to accomplish our second objective for the afternoon…..making chili.

Since I have no formal, written recipe for making chile, it is largely just a matter of mixing some stuff together in what seems to be pleasing amounts: hamburger, tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, chili beans, onions, green peppers…..and of course, the spices. This was Sultan’s first experience with chili. He was largely in charge of browning the hamburger…..which is the most labor intensive part of the process.

Actually, my role was mainly as the “supervising chef”. I kept a watchful eye on each step…..and made the major decisions concerning the ingredients. I am always amazed when people with no experience or knowledge of chili-making procedure want to take off and go their own direction. Who knows? The result could well be delicious….but, it does not turn out to be chili. It turns out to be…..well….whatever name the person wants to give it. My job was to make sure that the chili turned out to be “chili”……and not this other unknown creation.

After we had satisfied our stomachs with chili….and the kitchen was somewhat tidied up….. Fayez returned to his room to resume his studying. Sultan and I were given another opportunity to spend some time together. We could have sat in our warm living room in front of the brightly burning fire and talked. Or we could drive down to Topeka to Terry’s Bar and Grill for the evening. It was cold outside….but it was not snowing. The windows on the car had already been cleaned….. So..why not go to Topeka? Sitting in Terry’s Bar and Grill is always an invitation for conversation. It is a neighborhood bar in the truest meaning of the word….and friendly people were sitting at the tables eating, talking, laughing…..watching whatever game happened to be playing on one of the multiple TV sets.

Our conversation was interesting and lively. But, as you may have suspected, we did not discuss the global economy….or world peace…..or solutions to American involvement in Afghanistan. Our conversation was very basic. Again we depended heavily on the translators on our cell phones. But, these conversations were the foundation of a lasting understanding and trust that had begun to develop. These were the moments that would cement the bond of easy familiarity, of brotherhood and affection which rule our future contact. And, this is far more important than the substance….or lack of substance….of our simple, elementary dialogues.

Sultan had never witnessed anybody drinking a pitcher of beer. So…..for him….if he gained nothing else from these hours spent in the bar….. He now knows that I am fully capable of drinking a pitcher of beer with no apparent adverse or debilitating side affects.

Well, so much for Mammoth Cave. I will chalk it up to one of those “Been there…..done that” experience…..and leave it behind. It probably won’t end up on any of my future “must see” destinations. In fact, unless I have a totally unexpected travel vision in my dreams some night…..probably all caves and caverns have been expunged from any of my future travel plans.

We turned our sites on Paducah, Kentucky, as our evening camping site. Belatedly, I came to the realization that the campground is not actually located in Paducah. It is located somewhere near Paducah. We never did see the town of Paducah…..but surely it was close enough that KOA used it as the location of their campground. Although we did not get to see Paducah….there was a lake located somewhere nearby. I have tried to locate the lake on a map…..but apparently it is famous only to the local population. Or maybe it is a “phantom” lake. Both Fayez and I can affirm that the lake is there…..or at least, there is a large body of water that passes for a lake.

Actually, as I look back at the map, I am starting to suspect that maybe the “lake” we went to was actually the Illinois River…..or maybe even the Tennessee River…..or maybe there was actually a lake in the area…..and I simply do not know where we camped. Don’t raise your eyebrows! That is entirely possible. Anything is possible when you depend on a GPS….and not on a real map. Using a real, paper map gives a perspective that one can get only when looking at the location on a real map.

Anyway…..wherever we were…..it seemed to be rather highly developed. There was a hydro-electric plant….an apparent fish hatchery…..picnic facilities…..and sweeping, well-kept lawns…..and what appeared to be a major highway bridge passing over above us. We were there only a short period of time…..but long enough to figure out that there was not much to do there. And, at that point in time, we were not looking for a picnic spot….or a place to lie in the sun…. In fact, the only reason we were there was because somebody in the campground office….or a store….told us how beautiful it was. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder……of course. The only thing that did hold our attention, at least for a couple minutes, was the school of little fish…..apparently part of a larger fish farm or fish hatchery.

The campground itself was another cookie cutter KOA campground. And, I do not say that in a bad or disparaging way. I like KOA campgrounds. But, on the other hand, they are built according to a KOA master plan….. and, well….the are KOA campgrounds. This particular campground was apparently owned by an elderly couple…..and probably their kids…..although we really didn’t see them. It was a very informal place. Every time I went to the office….which also served as a general store…..both the elderly man and his elderly wife were outside working in the flower garden in front of the building. And, although they were working directly in front of the building….if not the front door…..they locked the building every time they left it. That meant that every time I wanted to go to the store, they had to unlock the building. There always seemed to be some confusion as to who had the key…..or even where the key was located. Just like a typical old married couple, they would argue as to who had the key…..until one of them would ultimately find it and unlock the door. Yeah…..it was a nuisance….and it would have been annoying…..if it wasn’t so comical to see them “fighting” like they may have been in a comic strip.

 

 

 

 

The stop in Paducah…..or wherever we were…..was pleasant enough. Another delicious meal cooked on an open fire…..another night of sitting by the fire, talking, discussing and laughing….. By this time in our travel experiences, we have more or less perfected our routine of unpacking….getting supper….and loading stuff back into the car the next morning….and taking off for another destination. And, this brief sojourn was no different. The next morning…..Sunday, August 2, to be exact….was no different.

We headed out for St. Louis…..a relatively short drive….around three hours. I had very much wanted to drive through Carbondale, Illinois, where Southern Illinois University is located. I had told a friend of mine that we would stop and take a look at the campus…..the university where he graduated. But….due to yet another mix  up that can definitely be attributed to the GPS unit…..we found ourselves on an entirely different course. We could have turned around and gone back….but we didn’t. Things like this tend to upset me, at least slightly. If I tell somebody I am going to do something…..I have been taught that it is not something to be taken lightly. I have given my word. It is a verbal contract. I am obligated to do it….as a matter of honesty and honor.

But, we didn’t turn back…..even though we had plenty of time. We continued our journey to St. Louis…..the next destination on our trip. We had reserved a room in a hotel in downtown St. Louis…..almost directly across the highway from the famous
Arch. The Crowne Plaza Riverfront at the Arch! We were going to be staying with the “beautiful people”. I booked the room online…..using the same web site as the ill-fated motel in South Souix Falls, by the way. The room was advertised as a $300.00 a night room! And, we were getting it for around $100.00…..or maybe a little less. I was excited about staying there. Wow! A luxury room….downtown St. Louis…..across from the Arch….a couple blocks from the St. Louis Mall….. We felt like big dogs!

Well…..through the magic….and power…..of advertising…..things were not exactly what they appeared to be. True….we were right downtown; we were across the street from the Mississippi River…well sort of; we were across the street from the Arch; It was only a couple block to the St. Louis Mall….. But…..it definitely was not the luxury room that I had been anticipating. It was a nice room, to be sure. But…..luxury? Hardly. I have stayed in nicer rooms in Hutchinson. But….I suppose it is all….Location, location, location…..

True to our normal routine when we stayed at a hotel, Fayez left immediately to go work out. This time, however, there was actually a gym in the hotel, so he didn’t have to drive. And…..true to my normal routine….I lay down on my bed and took a nap.

Fayez and I made the decision not to go to the Arch until the next morning….the last Monday of our vacation. I had known before we left on the trip that the grounds….the park….surrounding the Arch was undergoing a major reconstruction. In fact, it appeared that the entire Archway Park was being rebuilt…..an area of maybe two or three blocks. At any rate, we could easily see from our vantage point that it was closed…..and not likely to be open any time soon.

Fayez wanted to eat in a French restaurant, so he looked on the Internet to find what restaurants were available. Of course, the names of the restaurants meant nothing to us because we did not live in St. Louis…..and we had never heard of them. We decided more or less at random on a French restaurant….probably being influenced by its name….or maybe because of its location. Eating in a French restaurant was not a top priority of mine…..so I didn’t really care where we ate. The choice of a restaurant was left to Fayez.

Fayez chose….purely by accident…..a really nice restaurant in an affluent section of the city……near some of the hospitals and medical clinics and doctor’s offices. It was a warm summer evening, so we asked if we could be seated at one of the sidewalk tables. The surroundings were quite pleasant. We were obviously eating among some very affluent people…..the beautiful people, I suppose you could call them. The tables took up most of the sidewalk….and I felt sorry for the pedestrians who had to walk in front of the restaurant in order to get to their destination…..and they had to literally weave their way through the tables.   Personally, if I had been one of the pedestrians, I would have walked in the street to bypass walking among a bunch of people eating supper.

The surroundings….and the ambiance…..may have been attractive…..but the prices were far from being attractive…..unless you like large numbers. If you like large numbers….expensive food…..then things were very attractive. I don’t remember what I ordered….or what Fayez ordered…… I think when I saw the prices, I think my brain was so shocked that I have deleted it from my memory. But…..I do remember that it was more than $90.00. Not exactly a Big Mac and fries. Yeah….the food was good…. But, I am not sure it was $90.00 good! Food is pretty much food wherever you go. But I can imagine that since it was “French” food…..the price was inflated considerably. Oh well….the French have to be good at something, I suppose……or at least, think they are.

After eating our expensive supper, we drove back to the hotel and parked the car. Then walked the two or three blocks to the St. Louis Mall……a long stretch of green space extending several blocks from the old Court House toward the west…..

Just like in Detroit, there was a free outdoor concert in progress. We sat and watched and listened…..but only briefly. There was a good sized audience sitting on chairs listening…..and most….if not all…..of these people were black. It was good, free entertainment…..mostly blues music…..and the people seemed to enjoy and appreciate it. That is simply not my kind of music, though. And, I doubt if Fayez cared one way of the other. We decided to move on.

A few yards from the outdoor concert, there was a break dance contest in progress….. I think it was a contest. But, on the other hand, it is entirely possible that is was merely an evening of fun for the teenagers who were participating. Again, all of the participants were black…..and they were more or less rotating in and out of the dance circle…..after showing off their best moves, I suppose. If it was indeed a contest….it was a friendly contest……and the rivalry was mutually supportive. All the young men seemed to be having fun….urging each other on with enthusiastic encouragement.

Fayez and I seemed to be in a definite Caucasian minority. As the sun sank lower in the West….and not seeing any other white people….we decided that it might be prudent to start back to our hotel. It was not that we felt unsafe….or threatened….in any way. But, those how know me, already know that caution is one of my “strong points”! Actually, the break dancing was undoubtedly the highlight of the day.  It was fascinating to sit and watch the black boys perform their acrobatic and nimble and athletic moves. I was actually envious….thinking, “Wow….I wish I could do that.”

So, with the break dancing exhibition still going strong, we moved on to a nearby restaurant to eat supper before returning to our so-call “5-Star” hotel for the rest of the evening. We stopped at the hotel bar before going to our room. But….the drinks were expensive….and we were the only people there…..so it did not turn out to be a very exciting experience. We took the elevator to our room……to rest up for the major attraction of the trip: an opportunity to ride to the top of the famous St. Louis Arch.

The ride to the top of the St. Louis Arch was much more of an ordeal than it was an adventure, however.. Let me tell you right now: If you are traveling more than 50 miles only to see the Arch……forget it…..stay at home….don’t waste your time or energy….go mow your lawn….or clean your house….or something fun like that.

Fayez stood in line to buy our tickets in the Old Courthouse Building with its flag bedecked ceiling. I don’t even remember how much they were….but too much! Then we walked two or three blocks to a busy street where we stood for 5 minutes waiting for the traffic light to change. After successfully crossing the street…..things rapidly went downhill. As I said, the entire area around the Arch is being renovated. It is literally torn up….. What I suppose was at one time a beautiful park….and probably will again be someday in the future…..is an obstacle course of barricades, mounds of dirt and construction litter.

 

 

 

 

After weaving our way through the construction maze….and trying to avoid the typically unconscious, inconsiderate tourists…..we presented our tickets and then proceeded to stand in interminably long lines on several different levels. Up stairs….down stairs….up ramps….down ramps…..switch sides….this side….then that side…… For me, standing for long periods of time….standing anywhere…..is not good….and kills my back. And….this morning was one of the worst.

The only break in this exercise of discomfort and boredom was a brief photo opportunity. As the weary visitors slowly made their way toward the elevators at a less than snail’s pace, each individual or group paused for a quick picture taken against a “green wall”……and later to be superimposed on various scenes of St. Louis.

Oh how Fayez and I looked forward to stepping into a spacious elevator which would whisk us to the top of the Arch…..and the viewing platform. Finally, the elevators came into view. But…. Alas! There was no spacious elevator. The “elevator” consisted of a long series of small moving cubicles…..no larger than a human sardine can. We were packed into the small cells…..and we moved again with snail-like slowness through the dark interior of the Arch as it traversed it its curved pathway to the top.

What a relief it would be to reach the top of the Arch…..to step out onto the viewing platform and look at the city of St. Louis….and take some pictures. But….when the elevator stopped….presumably to pick up more weary…but expectant….tourists who had taken our place in the long line below……we discovered that there is no viewing platform. In fact, there was no platform at all. If we wanted to take pictures…..and I most certainly did….we had to take the pictures out of tiny airplane-type windows from the inside of the Arch. There was no panoramic view…..no pictures taken against the St. Louis skyline….no pictures of Fayez looking down upon the Mississippi River. I took my turn taking a few pictures from the tiny windows…..stepped back inside the tiny “sardine can”…..and we just as slowly made our way to back to the bottom of the Arch.

At least, getting out of the Arch was much quicker than getting in. But this time, I was barely able to walk! Good, kind, thoughtful Fayez told me to wait for him while he went to retrieve the car. I waited in the parking lot of a Roman Catholic Church which was adjacent to the Arch. Apparently the church had problems with visitors to the Arch using their church parking lot to park their cars. A woman was stationed at the entrance of the parking lot…..turning away cars as they attempted to drive in. Some tourists were not happy about her directions…..but the parking lot was private property…..not part of the Arch facilities. Probably the church could have made a great deal of money if they had charged people to park there at times when no church services were taking place.

As I stood there, waiting for Fayez to return with our car, I asked the woman if he could drive into the parking lot….turn around….pick me up…..and then leave. She was nice enough to say it would not be a problem. It took longer than I had expected for Fayez to return. Finally, I spotted him….and I motioned him to go ahead and pull into the church parking lot so he could safely stop and let me in. I asked Fayez what had taken him so long to come back and pick me up. He said that when he had gotten back to the car, there was a parking ticket on the windshield. I knew we had been parked too long….and I wasn’t particularly surprised.

“How much was the ticket?” I asked.

I don’t recall exactly how much he said he was……over $100.00, I think. “That’s quite a bit for a simple parking ticket,” I thought…..especially since we were only about 30 minutes late. “Oh well…… parking tickets must be expensive in St. Louis.”

“We had better pay it soon,” I told him. Wow…..two tickets. The rental car company would not like this, if they found out. I have driven for thirty years without a traffic violation….and not we have gotten TWO in less than two weeks.

“Yeah, we had better stop and pay it on our way to Springfield,” Fayez said. Fayez had paid the speeding ticket he got in South Dakota. I think he felt that it was his responsibility, since he was driving. But…..this was sort of a shared mistake….and I thought we should pay it out of our shared funds.

We left St. Louis early in the afternoon and headed toward Springfield. Along the way, I reminded Fayez a couple times that we should stop soon and pay the fine. After all, the car had been rented in my name….and it would be I who would suffer the consequences from the rental agency. I am not sure what happens to a person when he returns a car with traffic violations…..multiple traffic violations. But, I suspect they do not give you an award….or a discount on your next rental car.

As the afternoon began to wear down, I started to become more concerned…..and I began to insist rather forcefully that we should stop and pay the fine, Fayez finally admitted that there was no traffic ticket….. He had played the part masterfully….. I was thoroughly convinced that we indeed gotten a ticket. After all, we had been parked for longer than we had paid for. I was torn between being relieved…..but I also had the urge to inflict bodily harm on Fayez as a reward for his Academy Award performance in impressive acting….and almost perfect deception.

But…..honestly…..in the back of my mind I thought that $100.00 (and maybe he told me ever more than that!) was a LOT of money for simply over-parking. With that matter solved….we continued our journey to Springfield.

Other than the parking ticket incident, the trip to Springfield was uneventful….forgettable gettable. Upon our arrival in Springfield, we stayed at the same KOA we had stayed at a couple years ago in December when Fayez and I went to Arkansas where he took his language proficiency test. On that particular trip…..the one in December….we were one of a very few campers in the campground that night. In fact, the next day, the campground was closing for the winter months. Our camping cabin was directing across from the general store and showers….a very convenient walk to take a shower on the chilly, crisp morning. We were the only campers sitting outside at night in front of an open fire preparing our evening meal. The other few campers were sitting inside their 45 feet RV’s…..undoubtedly watching TV….and laughing at the two poor suckers sitting outside in the cold December air in front of a fire.

On this trip, however, our camping cabin was located somewhat further away….and we had an abundant number of fellow campers to keep us company. However, the cabins are far enough from each other that there is rarely an issue of privacy. On this night, Fayez prepared the final outdoor banquet over a roaring fire. We sat for a time for a final evening of talk and laughter and fun together before our vacation was to come to come an end.

Early in the morning, we took a final shower in the KOA shower….ate our breakfast of raisin bran and coffee…..packed our stuff into the car for the last time…..and took off for Farmington, Arkansas, to visit my cousin.

My cousin, who is ninety years old, had moved from her previous home in Springdale, AR, to an apartment in nearby Farmington. I had never been there before, but with the help of our GPA (Yes, it was actually rather useful this time.), we easily found the address….which was located in an attractive apartment complex. My cousin was waiting for us…..and as usual, was happy to see us and welcomed us warmly. When I say “us”…..This was the first time Fayez had met her….but she was equally happy to see him, too.

My cousin’s daughter…..my second cousin….was also there. I had never met her before, so not only did I have an opportunity to reunite with my cousin, but I was also able to meet a new relative…..and add a new name and a new face…..and a new Facebook friend….to my family “album”. They had a delicious lunch prepared for us. Always a thoughtful and considerate person, my cousin had prepared a low fat, low salt, low sugar meal. She never seems to forget about my diet….and always take great care to prepare food that she thinks will be healthy.

We sat at the table and talked and reminisced and traded stories of the past and present. As I said, my cousin is 90 years old…..but she is as sharp as a tack! She remembers everything. I think she thoroughly enjoyed telling Fayez the stories of her past life…..and it is an interesting life. Her husband (who is really my cousin) worked in the oil industry…..back when the oil industry was important in the USA. She has been places and done things…..as one would say. Well…..now that I think about it, I think she liked Fayez better than she liked me!! But….that is OK….Fayez is a very likeable person!

 

 

 

There is nothing feeble or “old” about her. She still drives her car….and if I can judge on the last time I drove with her….there is nothing “old” about the way she drives, either. She weaved her way in and out of the busy Springdale traffic with the ease and grace of a teenager. In fact, I think she would have made most teenagers nervous!

We could only stay for a short visit. We took some pictures….said goodbye….and headed up toward Kansas City where we would spend the night.

About halfway to Kansas City, it began to rain….. And it rained steadily until we reached Kansas City…..not a good omen for the evening….or for the next day. By the time we had reached Kansas City, the rain had more or less stopped….or had diminished to a light drizzle. That gave us some hope for the evening. Fayez wanted to spend the night in a hotel on the Plaza, so I reserved a room in the “Extended Stay America” hotel and suites. The hotel proved to be more than adequate. It is situated a couple blocks from the Plaza…..within walking distance, if we had chosen to do so. The “suite” had a small kitchen area…..two beds….a couple comfortable chairs….and a bathroom. The hotel wasn’t luxurious…..but met….or exceeded….our needs for the night.

Upon arriving, we closed the drapes and took a nap…..gearing up for what we hoped would be an exciting night on the Kansas City Plaza. Fayez and I had been to the Plaza on two previous occasions…..both times on summer afternoons. The Plaza was alive with strollers…shoppers….people relaxing in the sidewalk cafes and coffee shops. Both of the times we visited the Plaza, Fayez enjoyed himself…..and enjoyed the atmosphere and the ambiance of the quaint Spanish-style architecture, with its fountains and statues.

Both of us were looking forward to the same experience….and perhaps even more so….that night. The Plaza at night was a disappointment. Maybe it was the rain and the damp weather…..but were few people strolling the streets…..the sidewalk cafes and bars were closed…. The sidewalks were mostly bare. It was not what we had expected….and hoped for….but we made the best of it.

 

 

 

We ate dinner in an upscale Italian restaurant….called the Brio Tuscan Grill. Who knows how good it was? When you eat at an expensive restaurant…..you are expected to say that everything was great. And, make no mistake about it…..everything on the Plaza is expensive. This is not a place where you sit down in a McDonalds or Burger King and eat a Big Mac or a Whopper. All of the restaurants on the Plaza are “exclusive”……the best of Kansas City dining. And, they are also quite expensive. We paid around $75.00 for our meal….so of course, I am going to say it was “good”. Actually….and in all honesty…..it was just another Italian restaurant…..with a fancy name…..and dim lighting…… uniformed waiters and waitresses….. All of the things that one expects when eating on the Plaza. We paid the $70.00 for the “experience”….not for the food. I am sure that Fayez and I could have prepared a much more delicious Italian meal. We could have turned down the lights in our house…..played some soft music in the background….. The food would probably have been better…..but we would be eating on paper plates….and our little folding tables had no fancy napkins…..

After we finished eating, we wandered the empty sidewalks taking pictures of the Plaza at night. Walking on the Plaza at night was a stark contrast to a warm, sunny afternoon. We seldom met other people….and when we did, they were walking purposefully toward a destination….and not leisurely enjoying the warm, damp air of a summer evening. We did encounter a few strollers like us…..just meandering around, with no apparent goal….laughing, taking pictures….being “tourists” like Fayez and me.

After an hour or so, we decided we had had enough fun for one night….and decided to head back to Extended Stay America for a good night sleep before waking on Wednesday morning to the last day of fun and relaxation of our vacation.

We woke up Wednesday morning to a steady light rain. And….as luck would have it….the rain followed us on our drive south to Pleasanton, Kansas, where we would visit our friend, Sam, on his farm before returning to the Ranch. The time we spent in Pleasanton was “pleasant” insofar as we were happy to see Sam. But, in terms of the weather…well, it was not so pleasant. The rain continued to fall throughout our time there….making is necessary to spend our time in Sam’s machine shed. However, he did provide us with a nutritious and delicious lunch before we bid farewell…..and drove the final miles of our trip to our Home on the Range.

We arrive home happy….but tired. And, as usual, Fayez was eager to return to Wichita to do whatever it is he does there. We quickly unloaded the car….and just as quickly headed for Topeka to return the rental car. Our vacation had come to an end.

 

 

 

 

As just a final footnote….let me say that reserving our rental can online was a wise decision. The red tape was already taken care of….the rental fee was paid in full…..there were no confusing forms to fill out…. The clerk simply found my reservation online….handed me the keys….and I was on my way. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was distracted by talking to a couple of his friends while doing all this.

My fears and reservations about returning the car were unfounded, too. The same clerk took them keys…..make a perfunctory walk around the car…..and I was on my way. Again….it didn’t hurt that he was involved in a discussion with a couple Indian nationals who were returning their car after being involved in an accident. I walked out of the rental agency happy….and relieved. Fayez took me to my brother’s house to pick up my car……and I returned to the Ranch….alone.

The “Rural” part of the trip had come to an end. Until this point, the biggest city we had visited was Rapid City. It has a population of around 68,000 people. That probably can be classified as city in South Dakota…..but it would no doubt fail to meet the criteria of a real city in the rest of the world. But, we people from Kansas understand that all too well! Take away Kansas City and its suburbs, Topeka and Wichita…..and probably Lawrence in the summer season…..and we aren’t exactly bursting with any mega-cities, either.

Be that as it may…..we woke up Wednesday morning….certainly not suffering any ill-effects of my birthday non-celebration…..unless we want to count some serious over-eating at the Chinese buffet……and we set our sights on our next destination: Detroit, Michigan. The trip really wasn’t so very far…..only 366 miles. But, of course, I was a year older now…..and maybe that made it seem a little longer.

I wish I could say that I have vivid memories of this part of the trip…..but that would not be true. Again….it was almost non-stop driving. We did stop a couple times….solely at my insistence. Our first stop was to take a pictures of the bridge that spans the isthmus between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron. We never measured the bridge, but I would imagine that it was somewhere between four and five miles long. Maybe a little more; maybe a little less. Who knows? Long bridges like this are a rather dramatic sight, I think……as they disappear off into the mist shrouding the water.

Of course, it was a toll bridge. We had to pay to cross it. I am always puzzled by this arrangement. I am curious to know what Fayez and I would have done if we had come upon this bridge…..and had no money with us. I wonder what any traveler would have done in such circumstances. We could have possibly simply turned around in the middle of the crowded highway….in the midst of dozens of angry drivers…..and retraced our route until we came to an alternative route. Of course, that would have added several hundred additional miles. Or, I suppose we could have not stopped….gunned the engine and sped past the collection booth….and continued on with our journey. That could have been an option…..but we would have most certainly paid dearly for our foolish choice later on. But, who knows? A week in a Michigan jail may have been the most interesting part of the trip.

Of course, we had the money to pay….but I sometimes wonder if there are ever out-of-state drivers…..drivers who are even less sophisticated that us……who come upon a bridge such as this…..and have no clue that it will cost money to cross it until they are in an unending line of vehicles…..all waiting impatiently to cross.

We did cross the bridge. It was so long that it seemed that we must be in another state….or even in another country. But….no. We were still in Michigan. The first one hundred fifty miles or so were more of the same…..more tree lined, flat highway….dotted with signs directing tourists toward more fishing resorts tucked away in the woods. The landscape and the atmosphere changed the further south we drove. That is when we truly left the “rural” portion of our journey behind us. The Interstate highway morphed into a super-highway was we drove through Bay City, Saginaw, Flint….and finally into the suburbs of Detroit. As would be expected, the volume of traffic increased exponentially as we approached….and entered….this string of cities.

Fayez was holding up. In fact, he was doing very well dealing with the mass of traffic….much like maneuvering one’s way through a congested marathon….with every runner scheming for the best advantage. Actually, driving in Detroit was not as bad as I had thought it would be. Of course…..I wasn’t driving. But, there were no “near misses” or any other alarming incidents as we made our way to the hotel. No matter what other problems they may have, the streets in Detroit are well marked…. We recognized…..or, more accurately….I recognized….many of the land marks from pictures I had seen previously.

As we turned onto the street where our hotel was located……I recognized it immediately. I had already seen pictures of it…..and I had already looked at it on Google Earth. That was easy enough. Of course, the motel was not nearly as luxurious as the pictures on the Internet. But….they never are. One of the first things I noticed was that the entrances to all the rooms were from the outside. That concerned me a little bit. This was, after all, Detroit. And, Detroit has never been renowned for its safety. And, it meant that there was no elevator to take us to the second floor.

The motel was located on the very outer fringe of “downtown”…..a couple blocks from Detroit’s famous Renaissance Center…..the sprawling complex of sleek skyscrapers: an urban renewal project championed by the Ford family to fight back against the rapidly deteriorating downtown area. But….in Detroit, even a few blocks can make a huge difference….and our motel was definitely on the border….sort of a transition….from the ultra-modern urban renewal showcase…..and the “real” Detroit.

Our motel was did not radiate the semi-posh atmosphere I had expected. In fact, it had seen better days. But, the owners…..maybe new owners…..were in the process of refurbishing it. The reception area was totally messed up. At first sight, it was a wee bit disturbing. But, the owners were friendly….eager to help….apologetic for the obvious disheveled condition of the motel. I felt a little bit….but not a lot….better about the situation. My confidence was raised a couple notches when I inquired about the safety and advisability of going downtown at night. They all agreed that it was safe to wander around the Renaissance Center for a while…..but they also advised that it was a good idea to be back in our room at or before 10:00. This admonition did nothing to bolster my confidence in the city of Detroit. But, it did increase my confidence in them….and their concern for our safety and well-being.
We carried out stuff up to our room on the second floor of the motel. Stairs….no elevator, of course. The room looked….well….. It looked adequate, at best. At least, the floor was clean, and the bedding looked like it may have been washed, and the shower was reasonably clean. Even though it didn’t live up to my prior expectations, I suppose it could have been worse….much worse. We could have been stuck in South Sioux City for another two nights.

The motel didn’t have a gym, so Fayez took off almost immediately to find a place where he could work out. I sat up my laptop…..and I immediately lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

I was awakened about 90 minutes later by Fayez, knocking on the door. After he had taken a shower, we took off to find a place to eat our evening meal. By a general consensus, we agreed that we would find an Arab restaurant in the suburb of Hamtramck, where supposedly 40,000 Muslims live. Needless to say, I was looking forward to it. Certainly I had never seen that many Muslims in one place at one time. With the help of our omnipresent GPS system, we arrived at the restaurant we had chosen……a restaurant we assumed would be in the center of the Muslim community. There was only one problem, however…… There were no Muslims around. At least, not in the numbers that we had been expecting. I don’t know who was the most disappointed…..Fayez or myself. Probably me. I was very much anticipating observing how 40,000 Muslims live in such a community…..to walk down the street and look into their shops, their markets. To see them interacting with each other on the streets.

However…..there were only a few Muslims shops or markets or people hanging out on the sidewalks. Nevertheless, we entered the restaurant……and ordered something. Actually, from this point on, I have on a dim recollection of what we ate….or anything else that happened. I do know, however, it was not what I had expected……and I think I can say…..it was not what Fayez expected, either. Both of us considered the possibility that we simply were in the wrong place…..that maybe we hadn’t actually found Hamtramck. But there would be more time tomorrow to explore that possibility.

In the early evening, we were off to explore Detroit…..without getting mugged, shot or a knife in our back. The clerk in the motel had already told us that is was probably “safe” to look around downtown Detroit….but he would suggest that we be back in our motel room by 9:00 or 10:00. I, for one, took him seriously. I want to continue to live for at least another twenty or twenty-five years!

Probably the only part of Detroit that is worth exploring is the Renaissance Center. Actually, the Renaissance Center was located only three or four blocks from our motel. However, we chose to drive there. It was quicker….and safer. The Renaissance Center is the “crown jewel” of downtown Detroit. And….it is the only feature that is clearly visible on the Detroit skyline. In fact, it dominates it.

The Renaissance Center was more or less the brain child of the Ford Family whose purpose was to revitalize the crumbling downtown area. Henry Ford, Jr. pushed the concept and was instrumental in bringing about its construction. In fact, the project was financed mainly by the Ford Motor Company.

The Renaissance Center is a complex of seven interconnected skyscrapers. Construction on the mammoth project began in 1973…..and the final phase was completed in 1977. As I said…..this complex of gleaming skyscrapers dictates the Detroit skyline……and this complex of buildings is overshadowed by the seventy-three story Westin Hotel. General Motors purchased the complex of buildings in 1976……and one of the buildings now serves as their world headquarters.

As in most cities these days, the downtown area of Detroit was practically devoid of people…..even at 8:00 P.M. …….And, maybe for good reason. After taking some pictures of the Renaissance Center, we drove around for a while….and then returned to our motel for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

 

Early Thursday morning, July 30, we were up and eager to see what Detroit had to offer. And, the answer is: Not much. Before we left on the trip, I had done quite a lot of research in an attempt to find some interesting sites to look at….or some interesting things to do. But, for a city the size of Detroit….there simply is not much to see or do. Kansas City, on the other hand, offers a wide variety of museums, galleries, theme parks, and other cultural and entertainment events.

Over the years, the population of Detroit has steadily declined….mostly as the result of loss of jobs in the automobile industry. With the rise in popularity of foreign cars and the diversification of the domestic automobile industry from Detroit to other part of the USA, Detroit has suffered a devastating economic hardship. Detroit reached its peak population in 1950 with 1,849,568 people…..sliding to less than half that number today…. 713,270 people according to the latest census numbers. It has tumbled from the 6th largest city in the USA to 18th largest city today.

And, probably even more debilitating is the tremendous racial imbalance that has developed. Today almost 83% of the population is black….and approximately 11% of the population is white. The remainder of the people are of other various nationalities and ethnic and religious groups.

Our day began with breakfast in the small cafe located in the motel complex. Unfortunately, breakfast was not included in the price of our room, a courtesy or convenience usually included in the price for most hotels. But….at least, the cafe was convenient. And, I must admit, the food was not bad.

Only a couple blocks from our motel was the Detroit River Walk…..a multi-purpose entertainment district which has been constructed…..and is still under construction….along the Detroit River. This was the site of our first sightseeing adventure of the day. Again, we chose to drive. Although we really didn’t see an over-abundance of muggers along the way…..no little old ladies lying helpless on the sidewalks with their purses missing…..driving was faster, especially since we had other things to do later in the morning.

I am not really sure what to say about the River Walk. Even though it offered a pleasant stroll along the river, there actually weren’t a lot of things to see or a lot of things to do. I had probably set my expectations too high…..at least, for Detroit. The River Walk seemed to be a popular destination for the locals, though. There were lots of people milling around. A band was playing…. No….it was recorded music…..accompanying an outdoor fitness session. A noble idea, to say the least. It appeared to be open to anybody who wanted to join in. And, there were probably a hundred people….mostly older people…..who were going through the routine, which was being led by a couple of enthusiastic leaders or instructors. And….there were even more people….like Fayez and me….who stood and watched…..maybe hoping that some of the physical benefits would rub off on us by osmosis. It didn’t! I did think of one useful purpose of the River Walk. It would be a great place for me to walk…..or for Fayez to run. It was perfectly flat….and extended for several city blocks…… If we should ever find ourselves living in Detroit…..

There were a few food vendors….and maybe even a couple souvenir stands. But, for Fayez and me, there wasn’t much to do except walk along and look at the river and the tour boats and admire the wild flowers and grasses that had been planted along the broad sidewalk…..with the ever-present view of the Renaissance Center looming in the near background. We were surprised to learn that the River Walk Park closes around 9:00 P.M……just when I supposed would be the time when the action would be heating up…..especially in the summer time. But…..then, too….we had been warned to be back in our motel room at 9:00 or 10:00. So, chances are…..there is a reason why it closes so early!

After leaving the River Walk park, we set off to find the elusive….and maybe mythical….Hamtramck. And, the search didn’t turn out to be any more successful than it was yesterday. Of course, the towns exists. It is shown on the maps. It has an official census population. There were signs on the highway pointing out its direction. But, it was not what we had expected. Obviously, is it not any sort of tourist attraction. It apparently was simply a town where 40,000 Muslims live and carried on with their daily lives without drawing undue attention or fanfare. As I said previously, I was somewhat disappointed. I had looked forward to getting a small gimps into the life and society of a Muslim community. But…..someday I will go to Saudi Arabia for a day….and probably I will have an opportunity to observe all that kind of stuff there.

 

 

 

 

The only other tourist attraction that was viable was the Henry Ford Museum. Like many major cities, the life and history of Detroit was shaped by one family. In this case…..it was the Ford family. Stop and think. Denver had the Coors family. Kansas City had the Kemper and Nichols families. Hutchinson had the Dillon and Carey families. St. Louis had the Anhauser and Busch families.

At any rate, the Henry Ford Museum complex is a vast collection of different museum venues…..all adjacent to each other…..but all operating independently. At least, they operate independently for the purpose of collecting entry fees! Some of museums are outdoor museums….and some of them are located indoors. We chose an indoor museum. Over the door in large prominent letters are the words “The Henry Ford”. So, I am going to assume that either we went to the Henry Ford “Museum”…..or they didn’t have the space to finish the name of the whatever its real name is.

Even though I have a Bachelor’s Degree in history….and even though I taught United States history for two years, I am not a big fan of museums. Especially, I am not a fan of museums whose main content if a collection of Indian arrowheads….or bits of pottery that have been pieced back together…..or bones of extinct creatures that no longer inhabit the earth. I also have very little interest in looking at stuff animals or reconstructed rooms that kings or emperors spent millions of dollars that could of….and should of…..been spent on the welfare of their people. Not am I particularly fond of looking at rooms of guns and other weapons……which after the 20th gun, all of them start to look alike.

From the very beginning…..I really liked the Henry Ford Museum. To be sure….a majority of the exhibits centered around the theme of transportation…and the modernization and mechanization of the United States during the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the USA. But, there were also a variety of Americana covering the same period. For me, it was a rather nostalgic trip back into time. Well….maybe not back to the nineteenth century. But, the exhibits were at least things I could relate to…..having been born a few years after the Ice Age.

It was interesting to look at agricultural machines…..tractors, combine, plows, irrigation systems, balers ….etc….that were common back in the forties, fifties, sixties…..and even up into the later years of the twentieth centuries. It is easy to forget that what we once considered to be state-of-the-art implements and equipment are now museum exhibits. The same is true of most of our electronic devices and conveniences. At the time these devices and conveniences were introduced, we felt like we were truly using the best and the latest that money could buy. And, we were…..for that time in history.

As I looked at the exhibits of common modern conveniences of the day, I could easily feel the excitement that I and my family felt as we added these things to our life: washing machines, refrigerator, telephones, TV’s, vacuum sweepers, VCR’s, slide cameras, stoves….. All of these things made our lives easier…..and added a new degree of sophistication to our lives. These “modern” conveniences are now relegated to museums. And, just as certain…..the modern, state-of-the-art devices that we are using today will also end up as museums artifacts that people of the future will walk past and remark, “How did people live like that?”

 

 

 

 

Equally interesting to me were the automobiles that were on display. Not only cars manufactured by the Ford Motor Company…..but a large collection of cars produced by a variety of manufacturers. The first car that I owned was a 1947 Chevy…..certainly a museum piece now. Even the 1960 VW Bug I owned is popular curiosity these days. I would dare say that probably the most “classic” of classic cars is the 1957 Chevrolet. This was the car that every teen-age boy wanted to own. It was a cruising car……the foremost chick magnet. Unfortunately, I never owned one of them….although one of my best friends did. And, that was almost as good. (I did own a ’57 Plymouth….but that wasn’t quite the same.)

 

 

 

 

Actually the extent of cars on display ranged from the Oscar Meyer “Wiener-mobile” to the Presidential limousines used by many of our modern presidents…..dating back to the horse-drawn buggy used by Theodore Roosevelt. The Lincoln Continental limousine in which John F. Kennedy was riding when he was assassinated is also on display.

 

 

 

 

Yeah…..I don’t think Fayez shared my fascination in the exhibits….at least, not to the degree that I did. But….someday I am sure he will see his old vehicle in a museum somewhere, too….. Probably a 2012 model camel!

It was mid-afternoon….. Fayez was getting tired….and maybe just a little bit bored. He sat down on a bench to rest while I hurriedly look at a few final exhibits. We had not had anything to eat since breakfast, so we bought a hot dog and a cold drink before we left to do other things.

Although I really have no desire to return to Detroit anytime soon….if I ever do return, I will, for sure, spend some more time in the Henry Ford Museum. It is my kind of museum.

Time was getting away from us. It was time to leave the museum and return to our motel. Again, I took a nap while Fayez went to work out.

 

 

 

 

Shortly after Fayez returned to the motel and took a shower, we left again and headed downtown to search for a place to eat. I am not sure how we found it….but we came upon an all-you-can-eat sea food restaurant. It was not the kind of buffet that we are accustomed to in Topeka….where you can keep going back for more food to eat. In this restaurant, they serve you only one entree at a time. After that has been consumed, the waitress will bring more food…..for as long as we could eat it, I suppose. At first, we thought this arrangement was somewhat strange. But, after thinking about it…..it makes sense. It forces a person to finish the food he has been served before being served additional food. At Golden Corral, for example, people fill their plates with food….leave half of it on their plate….and go back for more food…..and then often leave the restaurant with almost a full plate of uneaten food. This method, I can well imagine, cuts down drastically the amount of food that is wasted by greedy, gluttonous, unthoughtful people. I can also well imagine that before the waitress will bring another serving of food…..she definitely expects to see a clean plate! We never tested the theory. But….on the other hand, I never leave a restaurant until I have eaten all the food on my plate.

After we finished eating our supper, we strolled around the neighborhood for a while. The homes of both the Detroit Tigers baseball team and the Detroit Lions football team were close by. Let’s see if you can guess the name of the football stadium. Yes….It is called Ford Field. Probably of all the pictures I took in Detroit, the only pictures that most people will recognize….or even be familiar with….or care about….are the pictures of these two stadiums…..or is it stadia? The only other famous building we walked past was the Detroit Opera House. But, I can probably on my left hand the number of people who have any interest in that! We did stop briefly at a large outdoor chalkboard. At the top was written….. “Before I die……” There were pieces of chalk provided so passers-by could record their wishes. Fayez took advantage of the opportunity and wrote something. I don’t know what he wrote. Maybe he told me. But, if he did…..I have forgotten. I pretended to write something……so Fayez could take a picture. But….it was all for the picture. I actually wrote nothing.

During both days, we spent quite a lot of time driving around the city of Detroit. Detroit is a rather depressing city. When you read or hear about huge sections of the city being turned into run-down slum areas…..believe it. It is not exaggeration. We drove through block after block of abandoned houses….some burned out and some with boarded up windows. These neighborhoods were largely ghost towns….or at least, ghost areas. With no liveable housing…..the streets were largely deserted….no people on the sidewalks……no children playing the yards….no cars parked in front of houses. I suppose that among the vast stretches of abandoned houses, there were houses where people actually live. If so, they were living under deplorable conditions.

Looking back, I began to question if it was wise…..or safe…..to be driving through these neighborhoods, even in the day time. Sometimes it pays to be naïve, I suppose. I know for sure, however, we would have not driven there at night. And, certainly is was not a place where we would have gone for a casual stroll….at any time…..day or night. But….then again…..maybe Fayez knows karate!

We ended the day by going a Wal-Mart store…..somewhere that only the GPS knows. And for some reason. I think I was looking for a portable lawn chair….although we could have been looking for almost anything. By a rather unusual coincidence, we ended up in the same shopping center where Fayez had gone to a fitness center to work out earlier in the day.

If I didn’t know better, I would have firmly believed that this Wal-Mart store was located in the heart of Hamtramck! ……although it wasn’t. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, we encountered fifty times as many Muslims than we had seen anywhere else in the city…..men, women and children. We had apparently discovered one of their favorite shopping places. But, they are probably just like me: I go to Wal-Mart because it convenient…and because the prices are cheaper. I would have really liked to take some pictures. But, my mama taught me better manners than that! Anyway, I still had Fayez to take pictures of.

The next morning we were up early. After eating breakfast in the motel cafe….and paying for it again…..we loaded up the car…..and headed toward the sunny South.

It would be easy to say a lot of negative things about the next phase of our trip. But….I am not. I am going to look at it as part of the adventure….part of the experience….part of the reality….that adds interest, excitement…and drama…. to what otherwise surely would have been a typical run-of-the-mill vacation. In almost any situation, it is the extreme highs….and the extreme low…..that make a situation memorable. Oh…I am not saying that we even came close to having an “extreme low”…..not ever close. And, even low points are relative.

And, what I would probably call a low point….Fayez would probably look up on it as being a “high”….part of the fun.

OK….. Our next destination was Louisville, KY. What else can I say? We covered the miles….. There was not much to see….certainly nothing to write home about. But, it really didn’t make a lot of difference. Fayez and I kept busy doing what we do best: talking, discussing, debating…..the usual fun stuff. As they say: Time goes fast when you are having fun. And, we always manage to have some fun. We crossed from Michigan into Ohio into Indiana on our way to our next destination: Louisville, KY.

In Louisville, we again stayed in a KOA. It was certainly

adequate….unless we want to consider the trains that seem to pass by at least once an hour during the night, splitting the air with their warning blasts at every intersection they encountered. This may have been the only night that Fayez didn’t prepare some sort of mini-banquet for us to eat. Instead, we opted for a much simpler meal of hot dogs and some prepared salad….and other assorted junk food. But, this did not detract from the exquisite taste that Fayez managed to bring out in them. The main luxury of the evening, however, was to merely sit in front of a fire and relax after a long day’s drive.

Our major point of excitement for Friday, July 31….aside from our next KOA in Paduca, Kentucky…..was a visit to Mammoth Cave National Park. The drive to Mammoth Cave National Park was beautiful and green. But, Mammoth Caves had all the charm of going down into a dark basement and spending an hour or so. No…..I am not being negative. I have been in some rather interesting basements in my life…..and this may have been one time I wished I was in another basement somewhere.

Over the years, I have been in several caverns. Carlsbad Cavern, Crystal Caverns, Cave of the Winds….and some others that I have forgotten about. I remember all of them as being rather spectacular with the stalactites and stalagmites….with vivid colors induced by various minerals…..with the damp air and water dripping from the ceilings…..

We had our choice of tours…..lasting various lengths of time and costing various amounts of money. Well…..it is sort of like choosing a line at the grocery store. No matter which line you choose…..it will be the wrong line…..the one where you stand the longest. Well….we obviously chose the wrong line….or in this case, the wrong tour. There were no stalactites….no stalagmites….. Only gray walls….gray ceiling…..gray floors. The worst part of all, however, was the steep….never-ending flight of stairs we had to traverse to get to all of this….this….nothingness. Ah….but the trip down was nothing! I could hardly wait to make the trip back up to daylight! A trip that I was sure would send me to an emergency room…..if such a thing even exists in Kentucky.

The trip that Fayez and I made to the salt mine in Hutchinson was far more interesting! At least there was an elevator to take us down…..and….more important….back up again. The salt mine had a little motorized train that shuttled us around…..and a guide who pointed out the various interesting (to him, at least) sights.

In the salt mine, we were able to take pictures….mostly because there were things to take pictures of. In Mammoth Cave there wasn’t even anything to take a picture of. Unless, of course, you think a bare wall of gray stone is interesting or photogenic. Consequently, I have to rely on my long memory to even recall this dull description.

But maybe the very worst part of the ordeal was the fact that I simply was not able to do a lot of walking…..probably due to the fact, again, that nothing was level…..and everything seemed to go uphill…..even in a cavern. So…even though I felt badly about it…..I sat down on a bench and told Fayez to go ahead and explore the rest of the cave.

Actually, Fayez wasn’t gone for very long….for obvious reasons: there was really nothing to see. And…what did I do while Fayez was off looking at the cave? Well, there were no stalagmites….no stalactites….no rock formations…. And, of course, no cell phone signal. So, I sat….rested….and admired the dark gray walls. But, I could comfort myself knowing that Fayez was probably as bored as I was inspecting what was left of the cave.

After we at last finally reached the sunshine and fresh air of the outside world again, we face the long walk back to the Visitor’s Center….and our car. Oh…..I neglected to mention that the hike from the Visitor’s Center to the entrance of the cavern…at least the entrance we took…..was a good morning workout by itself. There were other trails leading off into the woods to some unknown place beyond the entrance.

Of course, Fayez was well aware that I was not able to do much more walking….especially the uphill kind….. So, he was considerate enough to suggest that perhaps I would like to start walking back UP the trail toward the Visitor’s Center while he trekked ahead on the trail to see what lay ahead. This was a suggestion that I was happy to accept. So…..as I turned to make my second long hike of the morning….this one back to the Visitor’s Center…..Fayez forged ahead on the trail….saying that he would be returning soon….probably before I had even made it back to the Visitor’s Center.

Remember that I told you that all the roads at the Mt. Rushmore KOA headed uphill? Now….that multiply that by two or three…..both in the degrees of the angle….and the distance. I struggled to make it back up there. I walked a short distance….stopped and leaned against a tree or a sign….rested….and continued on….repeating this many times until what seemed to be hours later, I finally made it to the head of the trail. The entire time I was walking, I fully expected Fayez to come up behind me and say something like, “Are you still walking up the trail?”…. or…. “Why are you so slow?” Every time I stopped, I closely scanned the distance to see if he was coming.

The only thing that gave me some comfort…..and kept from making me look like the oldest and most senile person there….was the fact that several people also were stopping along the way to rest. People probably half my age. OK….maybe they weren’t resting for as long as I did…..but, yet….they had to stop and rest.

When I reached the starting point of the trail, I sat down on a bench to wait for Fayez. It had taken me several minutes….or at least, it seemed like it…..to make it to the top. I was sure that Fayez would be coming into sight at any second…..and we could continue on our journey. So…..I sat on a bench and waited…..and waited…..and waited. Now, when I say waited…..I mean, I waited from probably an hour….or more. Long enough to start becoming concerned about his safety. All sorts of thoughts were running through my mind….. Maybe he had gotten lost. Maybe he had fallen down and hurt himself or even broken a bone. Or….on the other hand…..maybe he had decided to leave me behind….disappear into the woods…..and live the life of a Saudi Arabian hillbilly…..killing rabbits and making moonshine. Maybe he was hoping to meet up with a young female backwoods hillbilly. They would build a primitive log cabin….run barefoot through the forest….find some wild camels to raise….have a dozen little hillbilly kids. But….the Good News: I had the keys to the car….and I could return to my civilized home….and continue to live a life of a country gentleman!

 

 

 

 

Seriously, though…..at one point, I had decided to wait for another 15 minutes….and if he hadn’t returned, I would go to the Visitor’s Center and see if they could go look for him. In the meantime, I continued to sit on the bench. I should tell you this bench was not your ordinary run-of-the-mill bench. Just like the terrain, this bench sloped downward! Seriously. Apparently nobody had though of leveling it up. So….as I sat there, I would gradually slide down the bench to the other end. I would get up…go back to top of the bench……and gradually slide down again. I suppose it was actually quite comical. Fortunately, I was the only person sitting on the bench. If the bench would have been full, I am not sure what the consequence would have been. I suppose one-by-one we would take turns sliding off the bench…..go back to the beginning…..and start it all over again. The thought crossed my mind: Maybe they should charge people money to sit there…..and call it some sort of entertainment…..maybe something like…. “Five Dollars to sit on the Magic Sliding Bench.”

Sometime before the final 15 minutes had expired……I look down the trail….and here he came. Fayez was returning….with a smile on is face….and a cut on his hand. I don’t recall exactly what had happened. (Maybe I can get him to tell you that part of the story.) But, apparently the scenery had been so inviting and spectacular that he kept walking….all by himself….to see what lie ahead. Maybe was actually was looking for a hillbilly girl….I don’t know. At some point, he had tripped on a tree trunk…..and had seriously slashed a cut in his hand. It was bad enough that even he understood that it needed attention.

So, while Fayez went off in search of medical attention, I wandered around the Visitor’s Center….which can be more accurately described as a gift shop….looking at all the “Made in China” or “Made in India” souvenirs which were begging the tourists to pay a vastly inflated price…..and take them home…..and put them in a drawer or on a shelf…..and forget about them. These souvenirs were identical to the souvenirs we sold in the gift shops when I worked in Yellowstone National Park and Big Bend National Park. Only the name had been changed. I had looked at most of the merchandise….and Fayez still hadn’t returned. The morning was starting to turn into sort of a game called: “What Happened to Fayez?” I began to wonder if perhaps they were amputating his hand…..or maybe his entire arm. He eventually reappeared….still with a smile on his face….and a bandage on his hand. He was still alive….. I was thankful for that.

After explaining his delay, we proceeded across the street to the parking lot….got into our car…..and disappeared off into the afternoon Kentucky sun.

See…..I told you I was not going to be negative. We had an exhilarating drive to the Caverns…..we saw something we had never seen before….I got to sit on an entertaining sliding bench…..Fayez returned safely…well, rather safely…..from him hike…..he got proper medical attention…..enough, at least, to enable him to continue on to our next adventure….and we were able to laugh about the entire morning as we drove away as quickly as we could.

As my old friend, Shakespeare once told me…..”All is well that ends well.”