Sedona AZ (June 28, 2016) – Just off the phone with my dad. He’s three thousand miles away and still manages to offer common sense, good advice and ultimatums. I’m fine with the first two but the last, well, it makes me feel like an irresponsible teenager all over again. My battle for maturity rages in the minutes since saying our goodbyes.

So I ironed my pants with the new iron purchased for $6.84 at Walmart yesterday. Made in China. A friend texted that it’s likely assembled by a four year old for pennies. Double guilt. First my mother’s if I don’t iron, then the global economy based on child labor violations if I do. Why can’t the dryer do a better job of getting the wrinkles out? It’s made in the USA.

Yesterday I changed Siri’s voice to a man’s with a UK accent. She hated me. Hopefully he’ll find my accent understandable. I’ll know that we are sympatico when I ask for directions to Mingus Avenue in Cottonwood and he doesn’t offer me a town in Australia. Or when I ask that the First National Bank of Arizona local branch be called, he won’t offer the number for a Dalmatian Rescue League. A friend used to take the phone after one of Siri’s replies and ask the same question and get the right answer. Told you she hated me.

Life is good. The sun is out, monsoon season is fast approaching, and I’m mulling over good advice. Thanks, Dad.

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