Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Welcome to Prescott, Everyone's Home Town! Pt. 2

It's really hard for me out here. I'm not cowboy enough to hang with the cowboys, and I'm not hippie enough to chill with the hippies. So I made up my own group, the Cow Pies (I was reminded to not have a shit eating grin as I type this joke). Waka, waka! Aaanyway...

Thanks to its seasonable climate, Prescott attracts many of Arizona's retirees; the average age is 47.8. But the people that make up the town run the gamut: hippies, skaters, drifters, bikers, cowboys, regular old white men and women, liberals, gun-toting right-wingers (The gun laws out here are nearly non-existent), and everyone in between. I even saw some Mexican gangsters tonight. It has three colleges so lots of students that will be coming shortly. All of this combines to make an incredibly interesting, incredibly charming town. All of these people come together to live in a mostly harmonious fashion, either tolerating or ignoring one another (there is a subtle but distinct difference). It has character. It is totally unpretentious and completely at ease with itself, in a way that is similar to the hippie towns of New England. It boils down to a certain sincerity that I find completely lacking on the east coast.

This woman reminds me of a cross between Mimi, from the Drew Carey Show, and a Muppet. "Homer, what's a muppet?" "Well, it's not quite a mop, and it's not quite a puppet."

It does get weirder than this around town, but I still can't figure out what's going on here. You have to wonder if this is their only mode of transportation. There isn't a supermarket for a mile, so her ass and knees must be killing her. And where are they going with a shopping cart anyway? Maybe they can't afford a wheelchair? The dog seemed really embarrassed.

There are occasional arts fairs in Prescott, I'm not sure what this guy was painting but I like seeing people in the act of creating. I wonder how many times this guy has heard "Paint Your Wagon" jokes.

Nothing really quenches your thirst like bleach bottles filled with water. MMmmm! That's bleachy!
This is my friend and fellow VISTA member, Hollis, coming to meet me in the park. This is a quintessential small town picture. She could be delivering newspapers or on her way to help Mrs. Smith with her garden.

Some people enjoying the park on a beautiful August day, the same day as the Arts fair:
Two very cute little pooches looking to be friends:
We'll finish off this overdue mediocre update with two people I really enjoyed meeting: Pastor Rodney Burnap and Jerry, the Junk Collector.

Pastor Rodney Burnap aka "Normal T. Joey" is a pastor who tours up and down the West coast on his bike "Pedaling the Bible" (get it?) to hippies. Here are his websites (he gave me his card): www.myspace.com/jesustribesrainbowfamily and jesustribes.multiply.com

This was taken as I drove past him one day, after I had talked with him in town. He was a really interesting man, and you could feel the unadulterated love emanating from him, like the colors of his tie-dye shirt fill your vision. He is what Jesus would be today, if Jesus were born in the 50's and loved the Dead, which, of course, he would.

Jerry collects junk and doesn't care who he gives it to. He literally gives stuff away. He gave my friend Hollis a water bottle he bought from Walgreen's. He explained to us the he buys the $1 bottles and randomly gives them to children playing in the park, "It's hot in the desert," he said, "and you have to stay hydrated". He went on to complain about parents not wanting the bottles. "I can't believe these people! They try and give me money, but when I try and give them something useful, they won't take it!" Then a woman tried to give him money and actually shoved $5 in his pocket. He complained about that too. He's clearly a man of principle. You wonder what he did before he ended up wandering around the streets, inch-worm like, his one leg slowly getting him to where he's going. Why he didn't give a water bottle to the bleach bottle fellow, I'll never know. Maybe that guy was skeeved out too.

He claims to have a 5x7 inch Pre-christian wooden tablet engraved with a Hebrew prayer. I'm not really sure whether to believe him. I'm sure he has an engraved wooden tablet, but over 2000 years old, sitting in a storage room? Excuse my skepticism Jerry. He's the kind of guy that you don't really have a conversation with, you sit there while he talks at you. He is the living Abe Simpson. Jerry's a cool cat who just seems to enjoy the ride. He offered me a bronze bust. That was the only description he gave me. I declined, but it was very nice of him. Yesterday while reading Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends I came across this poem and immediately thought of Jerry:

HECTOR THE COLLECTOR
by Shel Silverstein

Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.
Pieces out of picture puzzles,
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot.
Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul,
Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin' gold.
Hector called to all the people,
"Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked...and called it junk.

This sums up Jerry. He is a strong man that will get himself to where he needs to go. Diabetes took his leg but not his treasure--his pride. And you can keep your $5, he'd rather share 5 minutes of your time.

Next post: Is this really where I live?

6 comments:

  1. I dig the picture of the muppet lady... lol

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  2. Welcome to Prescott. And here's something I like to say to newcomers who are from either the left or right coasts - Welcome to America!
    Prescott is a really nice place.

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  3. Another welcoming note here! It's great to see what we look like to a newcomer's eyes ... I'm looking forward to future posts.

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  4. Thanks for the love Granny J and Dagnygromer. I love your city, and I'm proud to call myself a Precottonian.

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  5. It doesn't seem like there is much to do there. Can you give me some ideas? Is there a Hippie Emporium?

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  6. Will somebody please tell me how to pronounce "Prescott?"

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