Ode to Quartzsite

How do I describe a town where the only 'bookstore' (I use that term loosely) is owned by a naked man, the lone pizza man delivers his wares in a golf cart, the median age is 94, and scorpions run wild through decent homes? Words fail me. I thought I would let a few photos do the talking for me.

Here is the local playground. I am quite torn in my feelings about it. I'm happy that in a town full of old folks they thought to put a park in where small children may play. However, you may notice, there is a shocking lack of grass. The grass in the distance is a baseball field. The actual playground has none anywhere near it. Just sharp, jagged, angry rocks.

Here we have the trailer where we pick up our mail. This town (I actually I don't think we can call it a town, let's say settlement) is so small that they do not deliver mail. So everyday Mitchell and I set off for the postal trailers, it's our big outing for the day. If we're lucky enough to get some sort of package, we go to the main post office to pick it up. That is a real treat. At the main post office you get to see the locals in their finest form. For you see, there are two sets of people in Quartzsite. Those who come for the winter, 'the snowbirds', or 'winter visitors', we call them. They are retired folk who are generally pretty friendly, my only complaint with them is the incredibly slow pace at which they drive their RVs around. And then there is the second set of people, the locals. They are identified by their completely oddball mismatched clothing, and 'I just crawled out from under a rock' style of grooming. Sadly, yes I am now a local.




This is our chapel. Yep, it's the nicest building in town. When we first moved in there were about 40 people in our branch. It was nice and cosy, and everyone was very friendly. Now, a mere two months later, there are hundreds of people there, and more arrive every week. There is no chance of us ever learning any names. Soon it will get to the point where they have two sessions of church, and if you don't show up very early, you have to stand, as there will be no seat for you. I wish I were stretching the truth a bit, but that's what happens when you have to accommodate 900 people.
And here, for your viewing pleasure, the naked man's bookstore. To be totally accurate, he is not completely naked. He wears a cowboy hat and a pouch over his important parts. Should you ever find yourself in Quartzsite and need a book, consider yourself warned. No one warned me. It was a bit of a nasty shock to come around a corner and be confronted with saggy, naked, old man behind. He is often seen riding his bike around town. Though, when he rides he wears actual underwear, I suppose to cut down on the chafing. And, in case you were wondering, the books I bought that day were never read and have been given away. I just couldn't stand touching them.

This is the pizza place. Yes, it is a trailer, and yes that is a golf cart. This is one of the very few places around that is not fast food. We've actually been visited by the pizza cart. It's pretty good stuff.

So there you have it, a brief sketch of Quartzsite. The thing that surprises me most about this place is the fact that I actually like living here. I like being in the middle of nowhere and I love that every time I leave my house I'm going to see something that makes me laugh.