My twin brother, Walt, has been visiting us from Tucson the last couple of days. One of the advantages of living a couple of hundred miles apart is that we don’t get together in person that often. When we do get together there is a break in The Force and all “old folks” hell breaks loose.
When I manage to ride the Harley down to Tucson to visit him, it’s not so bad. Tucson is a big city able to absorb the vibes of the twins featured in my novel “Evil in the Mirror.” While we don’t go around killing hippy kids for kicks, we do manage to visit the old hangout bars in South Tucson. You have to be half crazy to visit these joints in the first place, but I have had some very successful book signings in these old haunts from the ‘70s. It’s amazing that there are still some of the old dirt-bag carpenters hanging out there that worked with us in our younger days!
While we have basically hung up our nail bags and hammers, it’s still fun to recall all the trouble we used to get into working like dogs during the day in the blistering heat and closing the bars at night much to the chagrin of our ex-wives! Now when we enter the dirt-bag bars, we walk much slower, have some difficulty getting our fat asses up on the bar stool and we don’t try to flex muscles that, instead of bulging, just cramp. While the young guns play pool and drink a ton of Jack Daniel with beer chasers, we sip our O’Doul’s Amber wondering why anyone would drink skanky beer in the first place.
In Camp Verde it is much different. I don’t go to bars and while Walt is here he doesn’t either. Instead, we go to the casino, much to the chagrin of current wives. Yup, things don’t change much in life, just the degree of trouble you can get into. This time we got lucky and won some bucks, it is not always so.
If it weren’t for the monsoons blasting the pavement with hail and rain, we would have spent the last couple days riding some of Arizona’s beautiful high country. We have been slammed by these storms with lightning popping all around and the wind blowing our bikes sideways because we were caught while riding across the reservation on the way to Durango, Colorado. It’s one thing to be forced to ride the waves; it’s another to surf these storms by choice.
Walt also likes to go to Mexican restaurants while he is in town. His lady, Virginia, rarely comes with him on these visits because someone has to stay and work to earn the money for these trips. I asked my wife, Sandy, if she would like to join us, and after some thought agreed that some beans and rice sounded good. I know she is reluctant to hang out with us; not because she doesn’t love us, but rather, watching us is like hanging out with two old guys acting like children. To say nothing of the fact that if we didn’t have our heads hooked on, we would lose them like bowling balls bouncing down the gutter, instead of the lanes.
So now the truth is out and everyone who thinks the twins are still the rough riding, hell-bent for leather wild guys of the past will now be sorely disappointed. We set down keys to the trucks and spend a whole bunch of time looking for them. If forgetting things were money, we would both be zillionaires! While we still ride our bikes and love the thrill of getting into the wind, we are lucky to find our way home after trips. It’s one of the reasons we like to have a younger rider with us to lead the way. It also helps to have a chump (I mean champ) riding lead because of deer and elk.
I’m just saying,