Monday, October 31, 2005

Ah, La Frontera

Nogales is the city of kings and the passageway of thugs. No matter. The Evil men do lives after them. The Ray-Bans, they wear on their faces. The true test of los contraband es los Rolex. Senor Manuel had Rolex for 80 American and Don Pepe had Rolex for 32 American. No choice, mes brers.

In the land of my Mexican bretheren, I trust no man named Louie. Nor do I have faith in a man named Rocco (though his sister, Marguerite, was cute). Rocco can go back to La Roca. Hasta Luego.

The punks and slugs follow you and it is imperative that you shoo them like so many flies. Strip joints and massage parlors. Silver bracelets that turn your arm green and leather jackets tanned with urine. They're fine until the first rain.

I know it's cruel, but the alternative es mas cruel. The beggars are another story altogether.

No, man. Rolex are the targets. Rolex be the prize. Settle for nothing less. Seiko are throw-away.

Nogales has lost a son

The citizens of Nogales wept openly in the streets as Lar and Len threaded their way toward the international border. Grown men sobbed and threw themselves at the wealthy gringos' feet, imploring them to stay and spend money. "Senors, help me make my first sale of the day," shouted Pepe. "
"We cannot, my man, we cannot," said Leo, with an imperious wave of his hand. "We have already divested ourselves of mucho dinero while in your country." And Leo's statement was not without truth. For he and Lar had negotiated fine deals for Cuban cigars, a liter of vanilla, a wool blanket and a poncho. Add to this a sumptuous lunch from from the fabulous El Greco restaurante in a booth overlooking the Avenida Obregon.
"Un momento," said Lar, pausing before a sidewalk vendor's makeshift cart. The senorita brushed a wisp of coal black hair out of her eyes as she went into the tired sales pitch she'd already made a hundred times since noon. "I'm not interested in the flotsam you sell the tourists," he said, squinting his steely eyes against the azure sky. "I want the contraband."
"Si, si, I get," she said, not realizing Lar had been to Nogales before.
In less than two minutes, a bargain had been made and the money changed hands. Lar put the pair of duty-free Ray-Bans on and walked off. Len growled at the vendors, "If any of you try to follow us, I'm gonna skin this smokewagon and make your heads into canoes."

Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

Tupleo Haiku

The King is coming.
Are you ready to receive him?
He's a steamroller.

Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

'Oh, no, not you again!"

That's what this lady said to me in Tombstone one Saturday night. I was standing at the corner of 5th and Allen Streets, just minding my own business. Leaning on the railing, even. So I take a nice picture of her, and that's the thanks I get?

Photo by one dissed Chester Arthur Burnett

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Guess which one is Chester

Midnight Wings

When the Wrigley's loses it's flavor and the gals have all gone home, there's nothing left but some Vietnamese Midnight Wings to finish off the night in a most satisfying way.
Photo by Leo

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Little White Dog

Photo by Leo

Friday, October 28, 2005

Leo's mustache judged at Helldorado Days

A black guy, a white dude and a Mexican went to Tombstone ...


... and the girl said, "But the gum has lost its flavor."

Ramsey Canyon

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Sonoita Darkness

Foto by Speed Paxton

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Modern explorers


Bird Cage Theatre Gift Shop, Tombstone

Crystal Palace, Tombstone

Beat It, Mac

Tucsonites Visit Tombstone


Big Nose Kate's during Helldorado Days

Rumpy Pumpy at the Presidio

Presidio Denizen

Road to the Presidio

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Lawd a Mighty

Photo by Leo
OOh, Boy! I don't think I've ever seen a look like that. I've known the mug since we was both teenagers and that particular facial response is a totally new experience for me. It could denote scantily clad tarts, a taste bud overload (likker or Jalapeno) or some particularly painful release of methane. What do you think? Give us some input. The correct responder will win a really cool prize yet to be determined, but cool none the less.

Some more really cool dudes from Nogales. It's like being in a whole different country when you go down there.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

This is Accordion Man, from Nogales. Possibly one of the coolest dudes to walk the planet.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

Len was pleased with the service at El Greco. "Fellas, let's get some pictures," he said. The waiters had much better things to do with their time, but how often does an American wearing a Johnny Cash shirt come into their establishment? "OK, if you insist," they said.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

Wing Man

Teddy, thwarted in his attempt to make a menaingful connection with the Flower of Asia, drowns his sorrows in a plate of hot wings. Oh well, Ted, there's 300 million more chances in the East, just waiting for you.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

A dog named Vito, a young man named Joshua.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

In just one night, Ted tries to make up for all the havoc the Americans have wreaked on the Orient over the last 200 years.
Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

Monday, October 24, 2005

No? Watta Ya Mean No? I'm An Amurrican!

Foto from Leopold

Oh. I can count big numbers. Teddy, how many's that? I run outa fingers and can't count that high. I want my mom.

Pitcher by Leopold

Happy fella

Bird paradise



The Only Thing You'll Find is Your Tombstone

There was much laughter last night, and much strangely twisted plotting and planning. People in flea-ridden garb being who they’re not for a few atavistic days and many raves in the night. There was accompanying gunfire from close quarters and smoke and much sulfur in the air. Having been, the evening before, revealed as a charlatan preacher and itinerate blues musician proved to only be more fuel for the upcoming events.

Strangely bent urban legends scrawling limerick and wasted ode of momentary desire and faithfulness to roaring drunks from Albuquerque. Somehow, the nut of the situation revolved around the loss of chewing gum flavor. The seemingly sure thing made a strange turn into rage and ignorance and oblivion. We, in this business of observation, found ourselves as participants again; participants in a game reserved for the young and sorrowful and the insanely depraved of an older more secure age.

Here, after living out the last half of the American Century in angst and isolation from the ones we love, we stood again at the proverbial crossroads. Make the bargain with old Scratch and begin anew with a lifetime, albeit a short one, of talents secured, or remember tales of halcyon days of youth lived and loved long before these days of a world gone wrong? Somehow the choice is a simple one, the former being left for another day and the latter shining like some madly blinding gem glistening on the desert horizon.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Ladie's Man

Photo by Leo

The Ladies. They love me and I love them. I have the sensitivity and the tender listening spirit that they emotionally need. These days, when so many men are chumps, I pride myself in being the attentive one that knows what a woman wants and needs.

Friday, October 21, 2005

Now THESE Boots are Made for Walkin'

Photo by Leo

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

We All Shine On...

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Clumsy and Clunky

Saw this on the Internet news this morning.

Russians always do things in a heavy handed way. Just listen to their music. Look at their submarines. Their AK-47s. Their biological-weapons program during the Cold War. Their chess tactics.

I love the photo of this big-bellied Russian with that ridiculous oversized Russian hat and his big clunky Russian assault rifle, and the beleaguered expression on his Muslim detainee. (actually, I'll bet that Muslim dude is guilty as hell ... that's the irony here)

Russians did give us Bolshoi and Rachmaninoff. They need to handle these Muslims in the same way: with grace, dexterity, and alacrity.

But those swelling patriotic vocal pieces with the all-male choruses? OK, those are cool too.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Gearing Up

Photo by Leo

A sign of the end times is that the righteous will be able to handle venomous asps with no danger of being bitten. Always prepared, Sam figured he'd start with one of these from the non-poisonous camp and work his way up. What with earthquakes and floods, you never know what's gonna happen.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Speed Paxton, Reporter

Monday, October 10, 2005


Photo by Leo

It's birthday season out here. 3 in September, 2 in October and 1 in November. This is Hannah. She just turned 12. Oy Vey!

Sunday, October 09, 2005

New Stuff, Sort of...

I started a new blog yesterday. It's just gonna be just pics and comments. Some of the first posts are re-runs, but new ones are on the way. I feel like I've been hitting the images pretty good lately and I wanna organize them in some kind of cogent manner. Take a look and tell me what you think:


Saturday, October 08, 2005

From the blog Leo just referenced

Check this out.

I was hittin' some photo blogs and found this guy. Great stuff.

Last Night

Photo by Leo
Same spot as the other evening's post, just a little closer

Friday, October 07, 2005


Image by Leo
And the Lord says, Go to Peoria. Give away all you possess and go to Peoria.
He says, If you desire to do my will, if you truly want to be my servants, go to Peoria.
He says, I have a place for you there.
And so what do you do? I suppose – if the word really comes and comes clear enough – you don't have much choice, you have to listen and do what God tells you. You have to divest yourself of every single thing you own, break the news to your friends, your family, mother-in-law, neighbors; turn off the gas and electric, stop the mail, quit your jobs, pull your kids out of school, pack up a van, leave everything and everyone you know and head off to Peoria. You drive all day and night and reach, at long last, the outskirts of town. You cross the town line and pull off by the side of the highway, the fields lying flat and covered with dirty snow. And you wait and pray, pray and wait.
The fact is that I hear commandments all the time – vague and small-voiced – everyone I know hears them. And what, really, is the difference between "Go to Peoria" and "Make the film"? Or "Write the book"? Or "Become a Sumo wrestler"? Or any of the countless passions that guide our days? These are all things my friends expend great amounts of energy working for and dreaming about. And they're all acts of faith, in one way or another, all the urges that carry us through our lives and give us meaning and help us make sense of the accidents that befall us. Maybe I'm not so bothered when I think of it this way, when I think that we have to admit that the best in us is utterly mad, or started out utterly mad, a dim voice urging us on to our own kinds of Peoria.


Image by Leo
Then the LORD said to Moses, "Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness will spread over Egypt—darkness that can be felt." Exodus 10:21

Thursday, October 06, 2005

New Earth

Image by Leo
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. -Revelation 21:1

My Family

Every one of my three brothers is clearly visible in this photo.

Try to guess which one is my Old Man.

Mom is deceased since 1982. Chester remembers that phone call, which came to his dorm room.

Also deceased is my oldest brother who was a Marine like our father.

I am No. 4 of The Five Boys. We grew up on an Ohio farm, whose kitchen has seen many feasts like the one you see here.

Mom and Dad nicknamed my little brother "Quent" ... because it is Latin for "fifth born." He's the one in the tie-dye shirt. My favorite, probably because we are No. 4 and 5, born in 1961 and 1963, respectively.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Ronstadt Windmill

Image by Leo
This windmill was purchased from Ronstadt Hardware in Tucson. It's dated 1946, the same year Linda was born.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005


Photo by Leo

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