Laughlin, Nevada. Little riverside town that faces the Colorado River and neighboring Bullhead City, Arizona. Most people come here to gamble and play on the river. I've never really had any love for the river at this point of entry. It smells. The casinos are low speed but, if you don't mind hanging with the senior crowd, can actually be a welcome break from the high speed roller coaster of Las Vegas.
After just returning from Orlando forty-eight hours earlier, I would have rather stayed home. But this was supposed to be a Coast Guard Rendezvous with mixers from the active duty side. Sounded like I could make some great contacts. However, my commander told me NOT to bring my uniform because this weekend was not about any formal schmoozing. It was supposed to be fun. Fun? OK, I’ll play along.
Friday evening we arrived and I promptly upgraded to a suite. Good move. Then we went off to the “cheese and cracker” social hour. Bad move. The only ones in attendance were the folks I already knew and drinks were not free. One of the academy recruiters had me cornered for at least half an hour trying to convince ME that my son wanted to be an officer, not enlisted. DUH! Graceful exit to Outback Steakhouse.
Saturday, everyone seemed to know what they wanted to do/see; except me. So we decided to see what all the fuss was about in a town called Oatman on the Arizona side. Folks were saying how you could do some great shopping there and the prices were really great; not like those outlet centers that charge too much. Always up for some good shopping, we decided to head out. Bad move.
I started to suspect something was up about 10 miles off the 95 highway. So far it was a lot of nothing but flash flood warning signs and some really mean looking black clouds. Then it started to rain. Then the rain became rocks. It felt like someone was having us on. “Oatman? Oh yeah, just head out that way. Hehe.” But we figured if we made it through the hail gauntlet there would be a pot of gold in the form of excellent shopping. What there was, was a town full of jackasses. No really. Jackasses. It felt like a foreign country. You couldn't get around for all the livestock. So naturally, I refused to get out of the car.
We laughed all the way back to the highway about the donkey who thought my camera was food and how automatic windows are simply not fast enough sometimes. We joked about how I came out of my seat when the lightening was directly overhead and the thunder clap sounded for all the world like Zeus was royally pissed off. And the shopping? Not exactly what I had envisioned. Homespun and wind chimes are just not my thing. Besides, three t-shirts for $13 is no bargain if you have to feed one to a donkey to make it back to your car.
