Leavin' On A Jet Plane

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say "good-bye."
But the dawn is breaking, it's early morn,
The taxi's waiting, he's blowin' his horn,
Already I'm so lonesome I could die.
--John Deutschendorf (AKA John Denver)

To see John Denver sing this song with Peter, Paul and Mary, click here.


NOTE: Click on any photograph to view it full screen in a new window.

Not the jet plane on which we left

Saturday morning, March 26th, we packed our bags, loaded them in the car, and headed to the airport. I'm always a bit melancholy at the end of a trip, filled with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I'm glad to be getting back to the kids, home, my own bed, but on the other hand, there's a wistfulness about all the things that didn't get done while on the trip. This time was especially fraught.

In my last post, I talked about the frustrations we faced upon our arrival in Phoenix and the subsequent drive to Visalia, California. Those frustrations continued through the whole week. Monday morning, after checking out of our motel, we had a very good breakfast at the Main Street Café in Visalia, then drove to the Tulare County Court House so that I could add one more governmental building to my portfolio. We had a good meeting with the folks at BWGS, one of the companies we hope will agree to supply our new Hydroponics Warehouse in Phoenix, and then headed south to Los Angeles. Crossing Tejon Pass, the official dividing line between northern and southern California, we again drove through a snow storm--one so severe that it dominated the LA news. Why, oh why, does the snow seem to be following me everywhere I go?

In Los Angeles, well actually in Ontario, east of LA, we met with the Arizona representative for Sunlight Supply, another hydroponics supplier, perhaps the largest in the country. Art was very informative, but couldn't tell us whether he would accept our account--not until he had done his own research to make sure we weren't encroaching on anyone else's territory.

Having concluded all the meetings we could in California, we turned the Ford east on I10 heading back to Phoenix. Kevin had never been to Palm Springs, so we turned off the interstate onto California 111 and drove into the gayest city in the world. Appropriately enough, a giant rainbow appeared in the sky as we approached the city. Of course I photographed it, and posted the picture on Red Bubble.

Prickly Pear cactus in bloom at the Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport

Rainbows, of course, also indicate the presence of rain, and since it was raining so steadily, and since neither Kevin nor I are bar people, we just drove on through Palm Springs, gawking as tourists do, but not stopping. Kevin wanted to get further down the road before stopping for the night, and I had no interest in staying at a clothing-optional resort in the rain. I had noticed a road sign directing traffic to Mecca on our drive west, so I asked Kevin if we could take a brief sidetrip. He agreed, and now I can say I have been all over the Arab world, in a manner of speaking. I've now been to Baghdad (Oregon), Tunis (Montana), and now Mecca (California). None of them were noteworthy, and I feel no compunction to turn toward Riverside County when I say my prayers. East of Mecca, however, was another story. Rand McNally had marked the road with green dots, signifying a scenic drive, and the Painted Canyon we drove through was certainly that. Kevin stopped repeatedly so that I could take pictures, and I posted a few of them on Red Bubble as well.

We stopped for the night back in Blythe, but found a different motel this time, one of the nicest places we've ever stayed. The next morning we crossed the Colorado River, entered Arizona, and drove back to Phoenix, arriving at the Royal Villa around eleven a.m. This gave us plenty of time to head downtown to the city's governmental complex, where we got our city tax forms filed, then on to the building we want to rent where we met our business partner, Gary. We were supposed to meet with bankers the next day, but that didn't happen, and we haven't heard back from Gary, so I don't know what is happening on that front. Yet another frustration.

On Wednesday, we were supposed to meet with the doctor we are contracting with to screen prospective medical marijuana patients, but he called and cancelled. I can't help but wonder if he's just too busy to do what we need done. Still more frustration.

Downtown Phoenix, as seen from I17. Quite the mix of squalor and grand architecture.

Thursday, our extemely handsome realtor picked us up at the Royal Villa and took us to six different homes for our consideration. I fell in love with the very first house we saw (also the most expensive, of course), and number two was also great, in my opinion. Number 3 did not appeal at all to me, but was Kevin's favorite. Go figure. Turns out Kevin doesn't want a two story house, no matter how much I felt the upstairs lofts would be perfect for my weaving studio. Another thing that caught my attention: the two story houses had the laundry room on the second floor. At first I was taken aback, but when you think about it, where is most of the laundry generated? You can carry your napkins and placemats upstairs, or you can carry all the clothing and bedding downstairs. I'd rather have the washer and dryer close to the heaviest loads.

One of the cacti growing at the Royal Villa, Phoenix

House 4 was another two story that I liked (another loft for my weaving studio) but Kevin didn't, and that brought us to house 5. This one was closest to our proposed hydroponics warehouse, meaning the shortest commute, and was an older home in a well established neighborhood. It backs up to a golf course, and has absolutely no privacy in the back yard. We'd also have to make the open fencing dog proof so that the kids wouldn't get out and bother the golfers, but much to my surprise, I fell in love with the house. It felt like "home." No large space for my weaving, no privacy, no pool, but still. I had to admit to the realtor that the house had nothing on my wish list, but I could live there quite comfortably. The next door neighbor told us that he, aged 55, was the youngest person in the neighborhood, and that's when the realtor found that the house is in a seniors only area. I guess, much as I hate to say it, that Kevin and I both fit that bill. House 6, however, if I had the money in hand, would be mine now. On a single level for Kevin, with a completely private back yard and a built-in pool, new paint, new carpeting, new appliances, new roof, and in our price range. The only problem is that we still don't have the go-ahead for either of the ventures we're hoping to start in Phoenix. We drove back to the Royal Villa with my frustration level at the tipping point.

Friday, we spent most of our time at the Royal Villa, with me naked by the pool for most of the day. In the evening, the doctor called, and we met him at a Glendale Hospital at 8 pm. Maybe, just maybe, things will work out, but I'm still not convinced.

Saturday, as I mentioned above, we packed up and headed to the airport, arriving three hours early. I know Kevin didn't understand my mood, and I'm not sure I can explain it to him. Now that we're home, I'm glad to be back in my own house, with the kids on my lap, but at the same time I miss the blue sky, sunshine, and warm temperatures we had in Phoenix. Not to mention all the time naked at pool side. Oh well, life does go on.

Still not the jet plane we left on, but one parked at Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport

For John Denver singing "Leaving on a Jet Plane" with Cass Elliot, click here.