Blathr Wayne Lorentz

Weʼve been open for three hours and only gotten eight trick-or-treaters. Stupid corporate mall trick-or-treat event is bogarting all of my merrymakers.

Want candy? Follow the orange pumpkin trail.

“Happy Halloween!”

If your Halloween decorations bring down the neighborʼs property value, youʼre doing it right.

Darcie and I both took off of work for Halloween. So vou know I broke out the 2600 Haunted House cartridge for some Goosey Night gaming.

A doctor once told me that coconuts are terrible for your cholesterol. So as a public service to the neighborhood kids, I am personally disposing of all of the Almond Joys in the trick-or-treat bowl.

Iʼve heard a lot of kids have peanut allergies these days. Perhaps I can do some good there, as well.

Now I can have ice cream for breakfast. Screw you, health and nutrition!

I donʼt make enough money for my wife to buy Pierre Cardin clothing. But if Pierre Cardin still made clothes like this, Iʼd take out a second mortgage.

In this season of Halloween, itʼs important to remember that in the event of a Frankenstein sneak attack, itʼs perfectly acceptable to break into a disco ballad.

Ask Shaun Cassidy.

Itʼs been 20 years, and Darcie still frequently guesses wrong if Iʼm joking or if Iʼm serious.

Today I learned that the IT guy who wouldnʼt allow Macs or iPhones on the corporate network at a former employer because “Macs are stupid” is now free to peddle his “Windows rulz!” bullshit full time in the unemployment line because he refused to take Macintosh/Unix networking classes.

Todayʼs lesson from the office window: If you tell the cops that thing they found while frisking you is a harmonica, be prepared to sing and dance.

It really is a miracle that I get anything done at all.

The only things Nextdoor is good for is finding out how racist your neighbors are, and whoʼs giving out Halloween candy.

Does it count as being “late” for work if the door to the building is blocked by cops frisking a lady?

God help us all.

Awesome: I just picked up a boom box at a garage sale for $5!

Less awesome: I just found out that after 17 years of collecting digital media, the only CD I have left is the sounds of Tokyo Metro.

My main media drive ate itself away, wiping out 4TB of movies, music, and TV shows. So I spent most of the last week pulling my hair out trying to reconstruct the files and metadata.

Tonight I remembered that I make monthly backups. My brain hates me.

Back to work day. The window never fails to entertain.

California license plate. Must be a local.

Today Darcie broke out her scarf and Uggs. It's 66 degrees.

One room of a 1,400 room Anasazi complex. Thereʼs another one a mile away thatʼs 1,100 rooms; but archaeologists re-buried that one after studying it to prevent it from being damaged.

Trading posts are still the one of the primary means of commerce and communication on the Navajo Nation. The tribal government operates some of them, but most are owned by white people, like the one Darcie is standing in front of. It's been operating since 1878.

The trading posts still exist because the companies you and I shop with aren't interested in opening stores on the reservations. Indians still actually trade jewelry, rugs, pottery, and other things for food, clothing, and even iPads at the trading posts.

They can also use money, like Darcie did.

A very small Darcie and a very big hole.

Historic graffiti inside the old Navajo County Jail.

Darcie is standing in front of the Bernie Sanders of geologic formations. Itʼs not The Grand Canyon. Itʼs The Pretty Pretty Pretty Pretty Pretty Good Canyon.

Back in dinosaur days, this was a muddy clay lake shore. It got silted over, and fossilized eighty brazillion dinosaur footprints. I almost lost my shoes in the muck, too.

160 million years ago, a dinosaur gave you the finger. Here it is.

You know that adage about “Donʼt use all your film in one place?” Neither does Darcie.

Darcie said left. The map said right. Next thing you know, weʼre on Mars.

The Anasazi had all kinds of minerals from copper to aluminum to uranium out the wazoo, but never learned to make metal tools, or even arrowheads.

Our Navajo guide to the Hopi dinosaur beach. He was so excited to have Ann Jillian visiting his personal dinosaur field, I didnʼt have the heart to tell him that Darcie wasnʼt on Itʼs A Living. Or that Ann Jillian is 70 years old now.

Almost certainly Darcie at the dinosaur field, and not Ann Jillian.

Strange. They have the same sign at my lawyerʼs office.

The shard of pottery Darcie found was painted sometime between the Battle of Hastings and the Black Death.

That doesnʼt explain why sheʼs holding it like a diseased frog.

Here we see Darcie holding a piece of pottery she found at an abandoned Anasazi city. A few days later we learned that the Navajo believe touching Anasazi pottery shards is super duper bad luck.

There really should be a sign or something.

Jerome, Arizona calls itself “Americaʼs most vertical city.”

“Americaʼs most parking-challenged city” would be more accurate.

I wasnʼt worried until I read the sign.

Meanwhile, in the lobby of the La Posada Hotel…

The real urban outfitters.

Good thing this TV has a remote. Because of you walk too close, the plug falls out of the wall.

This isnʼt the worst hotel TV we came across during this trip, but at least now Darcie appreciates the way that I dress the cables at home.

A neon gem down a dark side street. Every 1940ʼs film approves.

The Tiny Church of the Mother Road claims to be the worldʼs smallest church.

I bet the people who take off right after Communion still think nobody notices them leave.

I really really wanted to rescue Darcie from inside the cigarette vending machine, but I was fresh out of quarters.

It annoys Darcie when I keep mozzarella sticks in the visor of the Desert Truckster, so Iʼve decided to stop.

Thatʼs a Twinkie.

I shall lay my head here tonight. And then, never again.

You might be in a college town if…

I wonder what a “Human” icon would look like, if snakes could make signs.

For Millennials, itʼs not just a home; itʼs a hate crime.

If the menʼs room has mood lighting, you might be in an Arizona state park. Or a Hungarian disco. One or the other.

Mitchell Mesa at sunrise looks like a Apple wallpaper.

Today I learned that my Hasselblad has a sunrise mode. Who needs Photoshop?

Tonight, Darcie and I shall sleep in a concrete teepee. Somehow, the Desert Truckster looks even more out of place than usual.

You know the drill.

Getting Darcie to leave the hotel was like trying to pull a six-year-old out of Disneyland.

Now all I need is a “Doctor” postcard and a “Lawyer” postcard, and Iʼll have the whole set!

Thatʼs a teepee, not a wigwam. A surprisingly roomy and warm teepee.

Still, you donʼt have to ask me twice! I shall lay my head here tonight. Again.

Oh, good. Iʼve been wondering where I can get a fair deal on a quality, low mileage used cow.

Iʼm pretty sure thatʼs a no parking zone.

Because not every reservation is on the same time, and because Arizona is permanently on standard time, you change time zones five times driving from Holbrook to Monument Valley.

Darcieʼs watch gave up.

This is the view from John Wayne Point. A sign reads

Yes, thereʼs a gift shop. Yes, it has an entire John Wayne section.

A peaceful creek on the Apache Nation. The Anasazi lived in the caves above the creek until the 1400ʼs, then they disappeared. Nobody knows why for sure. It was turned into an X-Files episode, where the tribe left the Earth with the help of aliens.

Snow on the San Francisco range overnight.

Thanks, Obama.

If it doesnʼt rain where you live, rain on vacation is entertaining, not annoying. Or at least thatʼs the lie I keep telling myself.

You can sometimes salvage a bad weather photography day by going black-and-white.

We were on the way to Flagstaff, Arizona when Darcie said, “Donʼt forget Winona!” So, here we are.

Worst. Souvenir. Ever.

Weʼve never been to a reservation with a McDonaldʼs. But the big ones all seem to have Burger Kings.

Hogan sweet hogan.

Selfie. 1930ʼs style.

Today we travel from Williams to Sonoma. Which means that Darcie has to buy me a gourmet frying pan. Itʼs the law.

I was reflecting on something yesterday. But it may have just been the Ripple.

Darcie hates that joke.

Darcie and I have been assured this hotel is not haunted. Which is a shame, because Minnie Pearlʼs ghost would feel right at home.

This place has everything! Except bathrooms.

“I think the store across the street has public toilets,” said the local jokester.

Evening approaches on the Navajo reservation.

Dinner at a Navajo steakhouse. As you can see around her neck, Darcie decided to bring coal to Newcastle.

Darcie was a little startled when the waiter asked her to pick a knife for her steak.

Perhaps it was because he told her, “Choose your weapon.” I shit you not.

A tart made from local piñon pine nuts. Very good, but awkward to eat because the great big pine nuts roll off the itty bitty forklet.

I guess thereʼs no icon for “Indian in a wheelchair.”

Now you know how to say “No smoking” in Navajo.

Meanwhile in Williams, Arizona…

Thank you. Sorry I knocked over that big brochure stand in the lobby.

America still exists. Itʼs just not evenly distributed.

Darcie loves road trips. My habit of storing Arbyʼs deep fried mozzarella sticks in the visor is something she is less fond of.

Welcome to Santa Claus, Arizona. Amazingly this isnʼt the first abandoned theme park Darcieʼs sniffed out in the desert. But if youʼre interested, the entire town, including the remains of the theme park, is for sale.

Final road trip in the Desert Truckster. Darcieʼs lost faith in the old girlʼs ability to safely convey us across the wastes.

Every ore has its cart.

Lunch hour and Iʼm the only person in this Carlʼs Jr.¹ I guess nobody else wants to risk getting shot for a Thickburger.

¹ Read “Hardeeʼs” for you people back east.

When I ordered a Lyft to go pick up my car at the repair shop, the app gave me the option of taking a self-driving car. Itʼs the future!

I was so preoccupied thinking about my impending repair bill that I forgot to take a screenshot.

Every time I try to give Uber a chance, I end up taking a Lyft.

Itʼs that season again!

“Emotional support animal” my ass

Itʼs nice to be a passenger for a change. Too bad thereʼs nothing to see

If the garage gives me a free limo ride home, I should probably worry about the repair bill, right?

What a cancelled vacation looks like.