Homeward Bound

On Sunday, I will board a plane headed for Minneapolis. I’ve been here in Arizona since November caring for my friend and former neighbor. Now my work here is done.

Leaving Arizona is bittersweet. On the one hand, it will be nice to be “home, sweet home.” On the other hand, this retirement resort park is where George and I spent thirteen fabulous winters and the reality is I may never return.

My neighbors here on J Street in Mesa are the “salt of the earth” kind of people. It’s not just a street to live on, not just a block where your house is, but a family neighborhood. We laugh and cry together, mourn those who have passed and welcome newcomers. We help each other when a need arises. We keep in touch when we’re apart during the summer months by way of a Facebook group and sometimes by text messages. And one by one, we reunite in the fall.

Some play tennis; some golf; others hike. We walk, ride our bikes, drive our golf carts, play cards, enjoy crafts, work in the wood shop, dance, or just pull out our lawn chairs to sit in the sun, which is an open invitation for anyone and everyone to join you. Bring your Coke, water or a beer.

But what sets us apart from other streets is our every-Monday afternoon Happy Hour with a chicken 🐔 toss and chicken ⛳️ golf. That’s right, chickens. Well, plastic ones anyway.

Yes, we have a course set up on the street; yes, we are very competitive; and yes, we have trophies. The course is a tough one and the object is to toss the plastic chicken into the hole. The problem is the hole doesn’t stay stationary and tends to wobble. But our girls persevered.

There are other things that set us apart as well, and makes J Street unique. For example, we have a mayor. And an official flag. And an official anthem. All of which we take very seriously.

Mayor Denny calls us to order with his official wooden microphone and the first order of business is to pay homage to our flag. And our anthem? 

I don’t wanna be a chicken   🎶 

I don’t wanna be a duck. 🎵 

So I shake my butt. 🫨 

👏 👏 👏 👏 

And this is complete with hand and body actions, and of course, do-si-do-ing. We also get a report from President Glen on the most recent board meeting, how our stock is doing, etc. Oh wait, I forgot to mention most of us own stock in J Street’s own Naked Egg, Inc. company. You think I’m making that up?

We’re also known for our assorted array of Jell-O shots, a large tray of which is made each week by Greg and Mar, and on which we’ve all come to rely. The food table rivals any smorgasbord and we have our own cookbook.

So if I cannot return to J Street, my memory bank is filled to the brim and I am forever grateful for these lovely people who bring so much joy to every gathering. They hold a special place in my heart.

Thank you for taking the time to read my random thoughts.