Stinson 108-3 "Flying Station Wagon" Departing

On Saturday, May 12, EAA Chapter 1114 in Apex, North Carolina, held its annual family fly-in and cookout at a local grass strip, and the weather could hardly have been better. With temps in the mid 70s, moderate humidity, negligible winds and a thin high overcast tempering the glare of the sun, over sixty chapter members and their families and guests mingled among the open hangars and enjoyed typical cookout fare – hotdogs and hamburgers – and homemade side dishes brought along by attendees.

A handful of aircraft had been flown in and were tied down near the crest of

Some aircraft attendees

the hill adjacent to the runway. Some were classics – from the mid-1940s –

but there was at least one almost new aircraft which had been built from a kit by a chapter member. Called a Sonex,

Kit-built Sonex

it is a lightweight, low wing, two place, one-hundred-fifty-mile per hour cruiser made of aluminum.

EAA – Experimental Aircraft Association – is a worldwide organization of aviation enthusiasts, based on grass-roots flying, but including everything from homebuilt to factory-built to historical aircraft. Begun in the early ’50s in Wisconsin, it has grown to include nearly 1,000 local chapters, both in the US and abroad. And you don’t have to be a pilot to join the international organization or a local chapter. For a list of chapters and to find out if there’s one near you, check here: http://www.eaa.org/chapters/locator/

For a list of aviation events around the country, go here: http://www.oshkosh365.org/ok365_calendareventsmain.aspx?id=1263

If you want to learn more about EAA, go here: http://eaa.org/

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Barry on the Road

What do authors, avocados, wine, dip mixes and cooking demonstrations all have in common? They are all part of the Southern Women’s Show at the Fairgrounds in Raleigh this weekend. The list would also include cookware, home business opportunities, scarves and Chevrolet. And much, much more.

As one of the extreme minority – men – in the crowd-packed facilities, there was still a lot to interest me, even without being in touch with my ‘feminine side.’ It was easy to move from wine booth to dip-mix booth to wine booth, sampling whatever was on offer. You can munch your way through the Exposition Building and come out, if not full, at least not as hungry as you went in.

We met a local author, Lori Verni-Fogarsi of Holly Springs, who has just published her second book, “Momnesia” and was there promoting it. Attractive and energetic, Lori was interesting to talk with and we left with her card and instructions to go to Amazon.com and download the Kindle version of her new book which is available free for a very limited time.

An inviting oasis was under the canopy next to the Avocados From Mexico food truck where they were handing out small samples of an avocado salad you could try while seated at cafe tables. Ellen’s leg pain is better, but she still benefited from periodic sit-down opportunities.

We also ran into a friend during her shift at the Pampered Chef booth, Stacey Henderson, who was as full of energy and enthusiasm as always. She had just returned from a company trip and cruise and was eager to talk about it.

We learned a new word – dukkah – which is an Egyptian spice mixture that is popular in Australia. Two women were there in the booth – one from England and the other from Australia – promoting the introduction of their home-based business plan in the Carolinas offering these prepackaged spice mixtures for those looking for extra income.

Of course, there was every kind of makeup, scarf, clothing, footwear, healthcare and accessory display you could imagine. And then some. There was even a floorshow of sorts while we were there, featuring ladies of, shall we say, “a certain age” decked out in bowler hats, black leotards and frothy skirts dancing chorus-line style to show tunes. The enthusiastic audience gave them an ‘A’ for effort by their applause.

It is quite a financial commitment to appear at the show – we learned that the most basic booth space, about twelve by twelve, costs around $1,000. You’ve got to sell a lot of dip mixes or scarves to cover that, I imagine. Belk had a dominating presence in the Graham building and we wondered how much they had invested in the event.

But if your target market is primarily women, it’s undoubtedly the place to be. We arrived about one in the afternoon and the parking lot was full in all directions and women were wall-to-wall inside. It continues Saturday and Sunday, costs $10 for adults, and is a great way for women to enjoy a few hours. And for men to make points with their significant others. Just remember men – no whining about missing the big game on TV while you’re there. It negates the points you’re trying to make.

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Barry on the Road

For those who have read my first blog post about switching from the cable company to AT&T U-Verse, and even those who haven’t (though you should), here is the next installment beginning a week and a day after installation.

We were backing out of the driveway late in the morning of day eight and had to stop because there was an AT&T truck blocking us. The driver walked over and told us that he was there to connect the wire which had been buried two days before, and that he didn’t need to come inside. (We had been operating to this point with a wire lying on the ground from the post at the street to the house.) He then moved his truck out of the way and we left.

Within thirty minutes we were back and began putting the groceries away. The technician was gone. But then Ellen picked up the phone to check for messages and discovered that it was dead. I checked the downstairs TV and it too was dead. Finally, I went up to the attic and checked the computer and the internet was out, as well. A perfect trifecta. Again.

And so began our second round of dealing with AT&T technical support. That’s what AT&T calls it on their recording. But it would be better named ‘repair.’ Or “prepare to blow at least thirty cell minutes while you wait through interminable recorded messages.”

The first call was finally answered by someone who didn’t speak English as a first language and I had to constantly ask him to repeat or slow down, which he would do when requested. We went through the now familiar routine of unplugging the modem and then reconnecting. He would do something, he said, at his end to check it. He would periodically put me on hold for extended periods and I would sit and hold the cell phone wondering if he would actually return.

Eventually, he would get back on the line and ask me something else. I tried to convey that everything had worked just dandy until the guy came to connect up the buried wire outside and then it all quit. It seemed as though he didn’t, couldn’t,or wouldn’t hear that. I began to surmise that he had a script or procedure which allowed no independent thought or short cuts based on data, and that he had to plod from Step A to Step B, to Step C, etc. through to the end. When, finally, he had exhausted his procedures to no avail, he said that he would see what times were available for a technician to come out. Back on hold I went. But, this time he didn’t return – I lost the signal. S**T!

So… I redialed and went through the prompts again, this time raising my voice when asked a question by the recording. I began shouting “Representative” at every question hoping not to have to follow their tedious mechanical plodding. It seemed to work because I was soon switched to a human, this one having more of a Caribbean lilt to his voice. I explained that I had been cut off, that we had gone through the procedures with the modem, blah blah blah, and that seemed to shorten the process. Until he got to the “…we’ll see if there are any appointment times open for tomorrow” part.

Struggling to stay polite, I pointed out that we had only had the service for eight days and this was now our second outage in that short period and perhaps sooner would be better than later. He sighed. Yep, I heard it – he actually sighed. And then he disconnected! For an instant I was stunned and amazed, and then I got so angry that, I confess, I uttered a couple of multi-syllabic oaths that would have done George Carlin proud. Well, ‘shouted’ is probably more accurate.

After I cooled down just a tiny bit, it was back to redialing, and for the third time, plodding through the recorded prompts. AGAIN! Okay, I hadn’t cooled down much. This time I got a pleasant young lady in Missouri, or so she told me. She sounded like it. I explained briefly about my previous encounters as politely and pleasantly as I could. She responded sympathetically, and took my cell number just in case we were cut off. She managed to arrange for a technician to come out within just a couple of hours to take a look. I thanked her and hung up.

Sure enough, an hour later, I got a call on my cell from a technician advising that he would arrive at the house within about twenty minutes. I hurried back from an appointment elsewhere to meet him and he showed up about forty minutes after his call advising twenty minutes. Oh well, close enough, I guess. I greeted him and explained about the buried wire having been just connected, and that that was when everything went wrong. He went to the connection box on the side of the house first thing. Attaching some meter probes to the wires, he quickly said that he showed no signal at all. Wow, there’s a breakthrough!

I asked him if something might have been wired wrong in the post at the street. He said it could be, but he was an ‘inside’ tech, not an ‘outside’ tech. Huh? Turns out that the AT&T representative, that most pleasant voice in Missouri, had sent out someone who couldn’t repair the outside buried wire which had just been connected and which logic seemed to dictate was the immediate problem. Noooooo… she sent an ‘inside’ tech who couldn’t do squat-doodly about the outside buried wire! Gaaaaahhhhh!!

By now, it’s past four-thirty and the odds of getting an ‘outside’ tech seemed slim to none. Nevertheless, the ‘inside’ tech got on the horn and did his best to arrange an ‘outside’ tech to come before the day ended. When he finished his call, he explained that they worked typically until six pm and that someone would try to come by before then. I thanked him for his efforts – it wasn’t his fault that he was sent instead of an ‘outside’ guy – and he left.

Meanwhile, my next door neighbor had stopped while walking her dog and was asking me about AT&T U-Verse since she wanted to fire her cable company. Upon seeing my expression when she asked me how I liked AT&T, she guessed that I was less than delighted. I gave her the short version, including that the first outage was kind of a ‘one of those things’ event, but that the second appeared to be poor work and follow-through. I promised her that she could read all about it on my blog and handed her one of my cards.

Miraculously, and I say that with no reservations, an ‘outside’ guy arrived within forty-five minutes and set to work. He, too, discovered that there was no signal at the box on the house and then went straight to the post at the street. Looking at the spaghetti tangle of multi-colored wires inside that thing, I was amazed that anyone could have a clue what it all meant. But he seemed to!

A few minutes later he was back at the house junction box and was saying something about ‘gel connections’ and that maybe the first connector-upper had tested on completion but then something came loose after he left. Uh-huh, right. But this guy was top-notch, pleasant and very personable. Finishing up, he suggested that I go try the TV and it worked! Ditto with the bedroom TV and, ultimately, the computers in the attic. I thanked him for getting the job done and, especially, for getting there as soon as he did rather than making us wait until sometime the next day.

So, as in the first post about AT&T, where are we? Accessibility of technical support – time-consuming and tedious. General customer service, or helpfulness and attitude, of the people I’ve dealt with on the phone – good, bad and good. The repair technicians are pleasant and, except for one, competent and efficient. However, there needs to be some streamlining of the interaction between the customer and personnel answering (eventually) the phones. Whether that involves more initiative on their part to deviate from straight-line procedures, or modifying those procedures with more obvious ‘if-then’ capabilities, I can’t say for sure.

And there should be special handling for new customers, because I was ready to throw in the towel more than once. We’ve all read that getting a new customer is much more expensive than retaining an existing one. I think cell phone carriers have demonstrated that with their storied, near-textbook, lack of customer service and, thus, poor customer retention over the years.

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Barry on the Road

I thought Ellen was talking to a new neighbor at the front door. I was on the third floor and they were on the first, so I couldn’t hear words, just two female voices talking animatedly. When she called up to me to come down, I was right in the middle of some online search – I forget what – and wasn’t particularly excited about taking the time to meet and greet someone new at that moment.

When I reluctantly descended the stairs to the entry, I saw them in the living room, perched opposite one another, and I thought the visitor looked waaaay too young to be a new homeowner in the neighborhood. And I was right. She was a door-to-door solicitor for AT&T U-Verse, the telecom giant’s answer to cable tv/highspeed/phone packages. These two had hit it off, and Ellen was apparently sold enough on the offer she ‘d heard that she wanted me to hear it.

The young woman – twenty, I would later learn – was very personable and seemed guileless, and had straightforward answers to my questions about her offer. We would be saving at least $40 per month and would start off with a gift card in the amount of $75. I asked about the October contract renewal date which TWC claimed we were tied to. She said that it was ‘illegal’ in North Carolina for someone to be held to an implied contract for which there was no signature.

After listening to the whole pitch, I told Ellen that if she thought it was okay, to go ahead and sign up. And she did. And received a promise of an installation date the following Tuesday. We were advised not to cancel the old service until the new one was installed. We found out later the reason why. Thereupon, we began receiving email and then snail mail from AT&T U-Verse thanking us, confirming the installation date and various other announcements that, frankly, I glanced at and promptly forgot.

Tuesday arrived, and shortly after the beginning of the promised time window, so did the first of two technicians who strung a cable from the post out at the street, having told us that the existing buried wire wasn’t working. She said that someone from the company would be around the following week sometime to bury the wire. She tied little pieces of pink surveyor’s tape along the length of it so it would be less likely to get run over by a lawnmower.

Then, the ‘indoor technician’ arrived, came in and put on his little slip-over booties and got to work changing outlets and quietly muttering to himself as he worked. Less than two hours later he was done, our network was up and running, we had a new cable box downstairs and a DVR in our bedroom, and everything was working as it was supposed to. He gave us a brief explanation of the remote control and how to record programs and left.

As it happened, Ellen got on her Facebook page and posted about us switching to AT&T and got a raft of comments running about two-to-one against AT&T varying from distaste to virulent hatred. Wow, what did this forebode?

Everything continued to work fine the rest of the day and into the next evening until about 5:45 pm or so. We were watching the news when the screen went black and the sound, too, went away. My first reaction was to flip to the next channel, but nothing there either. Then a screen full of text appeared advising that there was a signal problem and that I should check if a wire was unplugged, then a list of other things to try. Useless things, as it turned out. I went up to the third floor <puff, pant> and checked the modem which was featuring blinking lights, one of them red. Blinking red lights are never good.

After rebooting the modem, nothing changed, so I went back downstairs to find one of the brochures the installer had left the day before. There on the front was an ’800′ number for technical assistance. By now, it was a couple of minutes after 6 pm and so you can probably guess what the first thing I heard was, “Our hours are from eight am ’til 6 pm.” Hmmm. Were they telling me that their systems never sprung a leak after those hours?

A recording said they were experiencing an “unusual volume of calls” and that I should hold for the next available representative to help me. If it was me, I don’t think I’d have announced to anyone calling that I was effing up at an even greater rate than normal. Just sayin’. After thirty minutes of listening to insipid messages that always seemed to conclude with “dubble-yew dubble-yew dubble-yew” before every web address, I finally gave up on that number and found another toll-free listing. Bear in mind that our house phone wasn’t working because of this problem and so I was burning up cell minutes.

After calling the second number and holding for another fifteen minutes, a human non-recorded voice came on and I began to explain the problem. She was very pleasant and apologetic for our service issues, although a good deal of the time it was very difficult to understand what she was saying. At her direction, I rebooted the modem and she did something mysterious at her end but to no avail.

I was then told that a technician would have to be sent out the next day and would “between noon and four” be suitable. With some edge in my voice, I allowed as how since we’d only had the service for twenty-four hours, perhaps sooner would be better than later. Suddenly, she discovered that a technician could come out between eight and ten the next morning. I said that would work, thanked her and hung up.

Despite hoping for some sort of miraculous recovery overnight, everything was still dead the next morning, but we did hear from a repairman by 8:30. He showed up at nine, and within fifteen minutes told us that the problem was outside and not within the house, and that he would call for an outside repairman. Pretty specialized, huh? Another guy showed up an hour later and poked around outside for a bit. Pretty soon, I saw the truck pull out of our driveway and head up the street. Wha?

Turns out that, instead of abandoning us, he drove a few blocks away and found the culprit in a junction box, whatever that is. A wire had fried because, according to him, someone had used too small a gauge and it overloaded. In any case, everything was now working. Well, except my computer. I finally had to unplug from the modem and replug and – voila! – my internet was back.

So, here’s how it shakes out: general customer service – good, except for the forty-five minutes on hold part; responsiveness of repair – very good; demeanor of personnel – also very good; keeping the customer informed – also very good. And one other thing: the DVR is better – we can record more and watch on both tvs, something the old service couldn’t do.

Would I switch again? Yes, I would. The offending wire a few blocks away was, I’m hoping, just an anomaly that won’t repeat. The internet/phone/tv part seems to be fast and reliable. So far. But stay tuned.

When we notified our old provider that we were quitting them for someone else, they suddenly got all interested in getting us back by promising to drop the price by about a third for a two year period. The representative was very polite, but Ellen explained that within the last year she’d called in twice looking for some rate savings and had been told in no uncertain terms that the price was the price.

I believe this is the reason the sales rep from AT&T advised us not to cancel cable before the new installation – she knew they’d probably woo us back with a rate reduction. And she would have been right.

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Barry on the Road

Nearly antique Scotty travel trailer

This semi-annual event is always worth a walk-around, this time the Spring edition at the Wake County Fairground. A big difference was the lack of any vendors in Dorton Arena. Don’t know if it was lack of prospects, or the organizers trying to save money on the venue.

Ellen’s leg issues have improved enough that she could almost keep up with me zooming through the Jim Graham and Exposition Center Buildings. We got to meet and chat with several vendors simply because she needed to find a chair periodically and take a load off. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Ellen’s favorite rest stop was at the Garden Information Center. The free gardening magazine kept her entertained while I walked around some of the displays.

We saw all the usual suspects – hot tubs, backyard landscapers, pest controllers and the like. Plus, there were all the gutter leaf buildup preventers and kitchen counter vendors. A personal favorite are the several appetizer dip sellers who have their wares lined up for you to stick a pretzel stick in to taste. You can even try some local regional wines, including muscadine. There was a particular blueberry wine that was… um… interesting.

Although we didn’t have time for them, there are always a number of seminars available on subjects ranging from growing roses to “Understanding Permeable Pavers” (huh?), to how to make your home more energy efficient.

We always find time, though, to browse through the Designer Attic Sale presented by the Alliance of Interior Designers. We have been known to pick up some unique little bargains with some family member or friend in mind as the recipient. Nothing really jumped out at us this time, though.

At one of Ellen Rest Stops, we spent some time chatting with a remodeler who told us of his recent clients whom he met through previous shows. Explaining the numbers – contacts vs. closings – he admitted that this event was his biggest, and most successful, marketing effort. He also shared that a particular outdoor design and hardscape firm which appears at every show with a large and elaborate display, spends some $60K per year on the event, but sells enough jobs to make it worthwhile. Whew, pretty high cotton.

As always, a few displays stood out for me: a (practically) antique little Scotty travel trailer surrounded by country chic accessories in the LivingInsideOut.net display; a vendor who offers kits and completed ukeleles made from wooden cigar boxes; and a 1939 beautifully restored Ford pickup truck, complete with giant bugs behind the steering wheel, in the Home Paramount Pest Control space.

Admission is $9, seniors 55 and over $7, and with a coupon you can print out from HomeTalk.com, $6. Parking at the Fairground is free.

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Barry on the Road

Campsite before the crowds arrive

I arrived at Lakeland Linder Regional Airport Saturday, March 10, a little over two weeks before the official start of the event. I’ve volunteered every year since 1999 with a group called The Raiders, and I like to have a couple of weeks in Florida after what seems like a much too long winter in North Carolina. It’s an annual ritual to hook up the fifth-wheel travel trailer and set out for Florida every Spring. As I drive the seven-hundred plus miles south, I can watch Spring arrive almost as though I’m traveling forward in time. At home the trees are barren and the grass is brown, and in Florida when I arrive the trees and the grass are green.

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The Raiders have their own designated campground, affectionately known as ‘Raider Valley’ and I have a particular spot where I like to set up, shaded by towering old live oak trees. Before our preparations get too busy, I can be found outside with my feet propped up and reading a book.

The stress relief is almost palpable. I sleep better and manage to shed a few pounds because of the activity and not having junk food around. And, until Ellen arrives, my cooking is much below my usual efforts when at home, so I just eat less. It’s a win-win I look forward to all year.

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Those few of us here finally got down to work after a few days of loafing. I helped another volunteer rehab a couple of our old utility trailers and broke a sweat in the sun. The welder asked me to hold a piece of metal to another one and a few sparks shot my way when he tacked them. Yikes!

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I had the idea after arriving that I would shoot a series of pictures in two locations that would, at least as I envisioned it, function like time-lapse showing the grounds as tents were put up and various vendor displays progressed over the days leading to the main event. So far, the changes aren’t obvious but will speed up as the show date gets closer.

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The main event known as Sun ‘n Fun is the second largest general aviation event in the country after AirVenture in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, at which we also volunteer every July. Begun in 1975 as a weekend fly-in, Sun ‘n Fun had grown over the years – under the guidance of the original Founder Billy Henderson – into a week-long event drawing visitors from all over the world. I attended my first Sun ‘n Fun in 1984, about a year after buying my first ultralight airplane and haven’t missed one since. You can find out more about Sun ‘n Fun at http://sun-n-fun.org/. When Billy retired twelve years ago, many said the event seemed to gradually lose its original direction. But, now, new management is in place and improvements are in the wind.

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We’ve gotten to know some memorable characters in our years volunteering.  The average age of our volunteer group is well north of seventy and it used to amuse me when some of them would refer to me as ‘young man.’ Since I was over, let’s say, forty <ahem> I also enjoyed the sobriquet. As people age, they often lose some of their tact and circumspection (if they ever had much to begin with.) And this group – and many of the volunteers at Sun ‘n Fun – fit this description.

One of the Raiders lives in South Carolina, has been divorced for over twenty-five years, and likes to hook up a modified motorcycle trailer to his truck and pull it to other states. He sets up in national parks on his Golden Age pass, and then cruises for miles on his motorcycle just exploring the countryside.

Another has residences in both North Carolina and Florida and divides his year between the two. He’s also retired and, at over eighty years old, still flies his Piper Cub and inspects other aircraft after their annual inspections. Another Raider, recently deceased, owned a successful manufacturing company which created measuring devices for industry.

Our volunteer group has included a doctor, a judge, business owners, veterans and a smattering of just plain folks, all drawn together by a love of aviation – and for picking up trash. Yup, that’s what the Raiders do – pick up trash. We have seven trailers and tractors, plus a handful of golf carts for the close-in work, and we run our routes all over the grounds picking up full barrels and swapping for empties twice a day. At this point, there are over eighty of us in this group alone. Without us, and the hundreds of other volunteers, the event just wouldn’t happen. Or it would be a mess.

Volunteers make events like this go, and it’s a great opportunity to enjoy the Florida sun after a dreary winter and, if you are willing to arrive early and get to work, it includes free camping. It’s worth considering, and there’s always time for some relaxation, as well.

Barry on the Road

Oh yes, please recline your #%$%^ seat!

I get a snicker out of some of the ‘airline speak’ I hear – saying stuff like “illuminated” instead of “lit,” and “in the off position” instead of “off.” Who doesn’t love, “…tampering with, disabling or destroying?”  I think a simple, “Don’t f*** with the smoke detectors!” would suffice.  And have you ever really listened to the nonsensical random voice modulation flight attendants use when reciting their canned speech? I can only figure that they’ve repeated it so many hundreds of times that they aren’t even listening to themselves, and vary their voices randomly to make it sound as though they are.

Thinking about it while sitting and waiting for takeoff, it occurred to me recently that it’s probably all written and approved by airline lawyers to keep it vague enough to cover all eventualities and thereby decrease the likelihood of being sued.

Every time mostly adult American passengers are told how a seatbelt operates, I can imagine a corporate lawyer saying, “I know it’s stupid but if we don’t say it, some idiot will nod off, fall out of his seat, and sue us for not telling him how to work a seatbelt.” Sadly, he may be right.

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I spotted a sign at the edge of the ramp at the Tucson airport as the plane rolled onto the taxiway. It said, “Speed Limit 15 MPH.” Huh? There’s probably not a speedometer up in the cockpit.  I mean flight deck. And this sucker’s not getting off the ground at that speed.

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I also noticed that the ceiling panels containing the air nozzle and reading light don’t quite line up with the seats on the American Airlines planes I traveled in from Raleigh to Tucson and back. I remember some years ago, there was a big advertising campaign touting how American Airlines was adding legroom in their coach areas for the comfort of its passengers.

Some time later, they quietly squeezed that excess legroom back out so they could compress a few more hapless passengers into coach. Didn’t hear much about that switch, though. Could it be that, to save a few more bucks, they didn’t bother to realign the ceiling panels to the newly re-compressed seats? So now you have to sort of lean to the side and slightly back in order for that pencil thin beam from the overhead light to actually hit your reading material.

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You know how one of the flight attendants will announce connecting flight gates at the airport during approach?  Many airports have more than one concourse and they are inevitably designated as A, B, C, D and so forth as needed.  Being a private pilot, long ago I memorized the aviation code for the alphabet – A is Alpha, B is Bravo, C is Charlie, D is Delta and so on.  I notice that on American flights, they don’t refer to D concourse as Delta.  Instead, they say ‘David’.  Guess they don’t want to advertise the competition.  Then again, some folks might think their American tickets were being switched to another airline.

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On the final leg of our trip – Dallas to Raleigh – we were in the first row in coach aft of the bulkhead. The woman in front of Ellen was my candidate for “Self-Centered Princess of the Year” Award. The aircraft had barely started its takeoff run when – Bam! – she pushed her seatback as far back as it would go in Ellen’s face and propped both feet up on the bulkhead in front of her. And the seat, and feet, stayed there until after the announcement on approach to RDU that all seatbacks should be returned to their upright position. Actually, until well after that announcement, when a flight attendant finally noticed and mentioned it. What a beyotch.

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Barry on the Road

Raleigh Spring Home, Hot Tub & Landscape Show

Ellen is still having difficulty walking any distance so, for the first time, I went to the Home, Hot Tub & Landscape Show solo. Because I could move at my own pace, without waiting for anyone else, I could slow down, or stop, depending entirely on my own whim.

The show was free, but parking was $7. I had coupons in hand I’d been peeling off the local paper every morning, but there was no one to collect them. It was sorta like they were thinking they’d charge admission originally and then decided it was just too much trouble, after all. I pitched my coupons in the nearest trash can once I reached the exhibit hall floor.

There weren’t any surprises, unless you count what appeared to be a nearly full show floor. In recent years, it appeared that a good bit of the available floor space was left over. Maybe things are looking up, economy-wise, after all. It isn’t cheap, according to some vendors I’ve talked to, having a presence at the show, especially considering some of the elaborate constructions landscapers and contractors typically present.

In my former corporate life, I worked for a couple of companies for whom trade shows were a lifeblood. We learned the dos and don’ts of booth life in order to make the most of the company’s investment. I spotted several of these rules being violated at the HHT&LS including eating in the booth, texting or cell phoning from the booth, and sitting down in the booth. Considering the investment involved, it appeared many of the businesses could stand a refresher course in booth protocol.

There were the ancillary businesses there to take advantage of the traffic: mattresses, knives, chiropractors, teeth whitening, bird houses, floor cleaners, pool tables, cell phones, cookware and more. Actually, I’m probably far more likely to be a customer for one of those than a remodel, re-roof or landscape purchase. But, that’s just me. Because I see many of the same exhibitors there every year, they must get results or they wouldn’t keep coming back.

Also present were several ‘work from home’ vendors selling silk screen printing equipment, specialty imprinting, and ceiling-cleaning business opportunities. I’ve always wondered how well they do at these shows…

Some things that stuck out, in no particular order, to me: non-sequitor questions asked by exhibitor personnel should you inadvertently make eye contact (why yes, I’ve been to Williamsburg); the Original RedNek Wineglass (that’s funny, I don’t care who you are!); fake lawn turf (woohoo, no mowing!); a landscape company with a beautifully restored 1954 Chevy pickup; and, a bright red SnapOn outdoor toolbox mega-grill – durn thing looked like an extra-wide roll-around tool box. Ooh, baby!

Right – Ellen would not have slowed down for that one.

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Barry on the Road

Steel and fiberglass horse sculptures

We heard about this arts village from one of those counter cards for tourists you see in restaurants and hotels. Thinking this would be a great half-day adventure, we all piled into our rental econobox and headed south. Located at Exit 34 of Interstate 19 about an hour south of Tucson, it’s a quaint little village pretty much dedicated to the arts and local history.

You may be weary of hearing about ‘quaint’ destinations, but this one is worth the trip IMHO. Cleaner and neater and more inviting than most, the wares for sale are quite a few cuts above the sort of stuff you often find in these locales. Nowhere I looked did I find the usual low quality, mass-produced stuff I’m used to seeing. Having wandered through a warehouse full of Mexican pottery, furniture and tchotchkes the day before, this was fresh in my memory.

The Tubac Chamber of Commerce provides a detailed map showing the one hundred businesses in this town originally established in 1752 as a Spanish presidio, or fort. Their motto is, “Where Art & History Meet.” The Tubac Presidio State Historic Park, found in the village’s Old Town, is the oldest State Park in Arizona.

The area isn’t lacking for accommodations should you want to hang out for a while. There is a golf course, as well as a Bed and Breakfast, vacation rentals and even an RV park. Food is readily available at the area’s eight restaurants.

After lunch at a Deli & Coffee Shop where the short-handed staff was efficient if not very sociable, we spent an hour wandering one of the main streets, Plaza Road, and examining everything from pottery to jewelry to mesquite furniture inlaid with turquoise. Several shops featured metal yard art that was unique and colorful, from small to huge.

Also on this road is the Tubac Center of the Arts, a terracotta tile-floored gallery with changing exhibitions that vary with the seasons. We just missed the Annual Festival of the Arts which was the week before and the Santa Cruz Valley Open Studio Tour & Tubac Art Walk upcoming in March.

If you have more than a couple of days in the Tucson area, plan a drive south to Tubac to enjoy a fun, mellow day browsing an amazing variety of works of art.

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Barry on the Road

Sabino Canyon view

Santa Catalina Mountains

Snowy mountain view from Biosphere 2

Biosphere 2 in the snow

Retired C130s at Davis-Monthan AFB

B36 and B52s at Pima Air & Space Museum

Constellation at Pima Air & Space Museum

Metal sculpture at Tubac, Arizona

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Barry on the Road