Flagstaff, AZ

Pete kicking rocks in the alley Flagstaff, AZ, is a college town filled with old buildings with cool old signs (we actually stayed in a motel that was over 100 years old, and looked very much like a quaint little whorehouse, if there is such a thing. I, in my antique slip and petticoat, fit right in). And there were thrift stores so good, they rivaled Southern California’s. When I get to knowing that a thrift store is particularly bountiful, I turn into a chicken - my eyes scanning the racks at a frantic pace, my head flicking this way and that, my heart beating rapidly. Do chicken's have fast beating hearts? All I know is sometimes I see myself outside myself, and...