Green River

After a fantastic road trip down the coast with some of my favorite people in the world (which is a different story altogether) I find myself in Green River, Arizona visiting my dad. Since I am feeling pretty lazy and hate typing on the keyboard that I’m using, I’m writing this post in bullet format. So here goes:

*Green River is located about 40 minutes out of Tucson and 30 minutes away from Mexico (yessss)

*It is basically a retirement town/community. You aren’t allowed to live here unless you are 55 years of age or older, but most are closer to 80 something. Since I am significantly younger than the required age, I need a youth pass to be here. I don’t have one. There is the possibility that I might actually get stopped and asked for my papers.

*Almost everyone drives a golf cart around here. They are safer than cars for old people…mostly. They also all have little yippy dogs….the worst kind of dog you could ever own.

*My dad and step mom are possibly the youngest residents here.

*How did they end up here? A relative lived here before and she died, so instead of moving into a little one bedroom apartment in Tucson, they decided to rent this house from the living relative who owns it. *Since I don’t remember the name of the lady who lived here, Ill call her Snow White, because everything from the no longer imported Chinese rug to the walls, tiles and furniture is white. Snow White was a smoker, and would throw talcum powder around the house to cover the smell of cigarettes. My dad and Christine have been living here for over 6 months and are still finding talcum powder in random places.

*Snow White was apparently a total recluse. She hardly ever left the house and even refused to have a mailbox on the street and put one on the side of the house instead (apparently the street was too far?) As a result, none of the neighbors have ever even seen the interior of the house. When they moved in, some of the more nosy neighbors craned their necks to peek in and asked if they could come inside. Christine said no. Way to keep up the tradition. Apparently Snow White was such a hermit (or she just hated her neighbors that much) she even stated in her will that after her death she didn’t want anybody going through her stuff or her house. To this day the neighbors still haven’t seen the interior.

*Not only have they made a friendly impression with the neighbors, they are also at ends with the mailman. As soon as he learned that Snow White had died, he told my dad and Christine that they needed a mailbox on the street because he doesn’t deliver to houses. Being as stubborn as he is (you can see where I get it) my dad told him no. They got a PO box instead and left the mailbox on the side of the house just to piss him off, and occasionally they still get mail addressed to the house, and the mailman ends up on their doorstep at least once or twice a month in an angry huff. Occasionally my dad will answer the door in boxers, a wife beater and a beer in hand just to watch his reaction. They get a kick out of it.

*Since a lot of these people are on medications and such, they aren’t allowed to drink alcohol. I don’t know how they enforce that, maybe someone checks on them something, but a lot of the residents go to the liquor store to buy those airplane sized bottles and once they get to the intersection before the neighborhood they chug them and toss them as they cart home. True story, I saw all the little bottles the other day. It’s both funny and sad.

*I just love this, it blows my mind. The sheriffs department is strictly volunteer. What kind of authority could an 85 year old volunteer sheriff possibly have?!

*Big news…there was a shootout in the neighborhood the other week! A man was on the golf course and saw his wife’s golf cart at another man’s house. So he jumped into his golf cart, ran home and grabbed his pistol, and shot his wife’s empty golf cart as he rolled past. (Quick! Someone call the sheriff! Oh wait…)

And that’s Green Valley. Yesterday we drove out to Elgin for a wine tasting tour and then I wandered through the desert with a mule hugging my left side and a cute but stubborn little burro on my right. It was actually a lot of fun! Today I might run around the neighborhood evading the pretend police and trying not to get run over by a golf cart. And tomorrow maybe shoot on down to Mexico to grab some dinner. Or a picnic. Or another adventure. Who knows.