Arizona Shoots Self in Foot with Concealed Weapon
by Marla Finn
A few hours before the big earthquake of '94 hit southern California, at 4:35 AM, on the morning of Martin Luther King's birthday, my husband and I had just come from a late showing of "Schindler's List," on the 3rd Street Promenade, in Santa Monica. On our walk home, we sobbed at the unjust horror of how our people had been singled out and taken down by the insane policies of one crazy man, and how long it took the world to do something about it. We had just fallen asleep when the quake hit, and it was so intense, at a whopping 7.1 magnitude, that our first thought was the Nazis must be coming to get the rest of us.
Once the ground stopped shaking, my husband and I decided to toss our two young daughters into the car and head for more solid ground, in our neighboring state of Arizona. In many ways, it proved to be a wonderful place for our kids to continue their growing process. Our neighborhood was like the fifties.
There were kids everywhere, dashing from house to house happily, with lots of sunshine and pristine swimming pools to play in.
Arizona's unbelievably backward political environment has always been a source of big laughs for us, having moved to this ultra conservative state from liberal California. We have daily reminders of how ridiculous the lawmakers here are, from the likes of John McCain, the now "Un-maverick," JD Hayworth, who puts his foot in his mouth every time he opens it, and Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who thinks pink underwear and green baloney, served in tents in the middle of the 120 degree desert, gives him the right to think of himself as god's earthly truant officer.
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