Arrival in the Sun City

They call El Paso the Sun City because the sun always shines. In the upper right hand corner of the El Paso Times, the print edition used to tell readers how many days in a row.

We went to the Tony Lama outlet right after we checked into the hotel.  Magda and I each bought a pair of cowboy boots.

The sales clerk packed my boots in a Nocona box.  Fortunately, the owners branded the storefront a lot better.  I still have three pairs of Tony Lamas from the 1970s.  With super pointy toes!

I wish I could say this was where I grew up . . .

Or this . . .

But no, my parents bought this house in northeast El Paso in 1965.  I lived there all through high school.  The other houses are on Rim Road--aka the right side of the tracks.  My house hasn't changed much, except for the addition of the fortress-like stone fences and the iron window guards.  It must be a high-crime neighborhood now.

Andress High School hasn't fared any better.  My class is about to have its 40th reunion.

Downtown El Paso is a lot cleaner than it used to be. And in San Jacinto Plaza, the City Fathers have memorialized the alligators that used to live there in a fountain during the 1950s.  That's right, LIVE alligators, barely separated from the public.  It was cruel teenagers throwing rocks, not liability that got them replaced with this garish sculpture.

Like Las Vegas, El Paso is a helluva lot prettier at night.  Especially from Scenic Drive. That's Juarez in the distance.  They say it's the most dangerous city in North America.  And El Paso's the safest.