June 3, 2007
Esconced in a suite at the Hassayampa Hotel just off the square in Prescott. In fact, the big Hassayampa neon sign is right out the window, looking like a fifties noir detective set. I just finished speaking to the Democrats of Prescott. Both of them thanked me profusely.
Tomas wanted to eat at Martan's in Flagstaf one more time, so we jetted up from the Weston Resort in Scottsdale, stopping at the abode to feed the chicken and water the dogs. Got to Martan's on San Francisco Street at about 11, lots of hippies out on the street. Got accosted by a young female, who I'll call Flag Hippie Bitch. She was friendly enough, but full of a certain type of NAU college superiority that permeated her constant chatter. For one thing, she assured us she is an excellent artist (she works at a T-shirt shop). This is a type common to the NAU area and they really grind me. They think the government should support their art ("I do paintings that heal") and, of course, they hate anything Western, with guns, so when she asked me what kind of art I did, I said, "Anything Western, with guns."
"I suppose you worship Frederick Remington?" she said in a snotty condescending tone of voice. "As a matter of fact, I worship Mr. Remington to the point of genuflecting beneath an array of Winchesters every morning," I said with a big smile.
She also had the temerity to knock the Peace Corp by saying, when she found out Tomas was going to Peru, "It doesn't attack the main problem. You are basically telling people to wash their hands before they eat, to people who have nothing to eat."
The food at Martan's was good ($27.50, plus $7 tip, cash). Drove by Alternatives Center, a teen shelter, where Tommy worked while going to school, then back down the road (89A), taking the back way, down Oak Creek Canyon, Sedona, Cottonwood, Jerome, over Mingus Mountain and into Prescott.
Driving back in the morning. This has been the T. Bell Farewell Tour. Been fun.
"Peace, out, Man."
—A fond Hippie farewell
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