It is 8:30 by one of the time zones i’m living in.
i have traveled near eight hundred miles in just over eleven hours. It should not surprise you this old man is tired, and therefore, this will be short.
Other observations will follow. But as i curl up for a short sleep and early rise to complete the voyage, a couple of observations:
Dust devils intrigue me. So does this world i’m in.
i’ve stopped in Lordsburg, New Mexico. i’m pretty sure this is where my friends Henry and Beetle Harding have relatives. i was surprised it is as small as it is unless i’ve missed something. i thought i should contact the relatives, but not this time. Sleep is the driver.
i’m staying at the Comfort Inn right next to I-10. When i asked for a good place to eat with a bar — i think i deserved a martini — the clerk informed me the only place in town with a bar was El Charro, a Mexican restaurant, literally across the tracks from the main part of town.
It is a sprawling place, a bit run down, that reminded me of a VFW hall gone south. When i entered the restaurant, the waitress, serving all of one older couple in an area with seats for about seventy-five, pointed me to the bar, another cavernous area that apparently is a venue for parties.
i sat at the bar to order my meal and my much desired martini.
“Do you have Bombay Sapphire,” i inquired. The bartender, replied, “We only have well gin.”
i had her margarita. Good. i also had a chile relleno, my gauge for good Mexican fare ever since Virginia Harding made it for me and her sons back home in Lebanon, and a beef taco, of course with a beer.
But i kept wondering what George Harding would think of this.