Off to the Races

My truck was found near Nogales, on the US/Mexico border. It had some new "Arizona pin-striping," which is, in normal parlance, scratches and streaks from trees, bushes, rocks, and cacti. The camper shell has been painted black. The steering column has been trashed by the hot-wiring.  According to the Santa Cruz County Sheriff, the truck had been used in "criminal activity," likely drug or human smuggling. I have not seen it yet.

Aside from that, I guess it's in decent shape.

There were two arrests, both juveniles. I don't know if I'll get to attend any arraignments or trials. I would like to see them though, just so I can put a face on my imaginings of what transpired when they stole the truck. I'd also like to hear more about that.

This craziness comes at a strange time. The end of the semester, the beginning of the holidays, the newly cold weather, a coming new year. I have to finish reading student final exams, get my grades in, attend social gatherings, buy gifts, be cheerful, and make decisions about a stolen truck.

It's just the usual craziness of life.

The big fork in the road is whether or not I can, am willing, or even want to engage with it all. Right now, I'm just shell-shocked, incapacitated. I can't seem to find the words. I hope I get a break soon, but it looks like the near future is moving fast.

Time to line up and wait for the gun, again, as usual.