Keep Sedona Tidy

There are Marigolds everywhere. The vivid yellow against the ubiquitous deep-red that is Sedona’s adopted colour – an easy choice as the town is surrounded by nothing but dusky red rocks – Red Rock Town. The dog-shit repositories are more elegant than a British Georgian postbox and the elevator to street level is a gleaming glass cube with views over the town. The car park is awash with Marigolds, the outside of the toilets are Marigolds. Marigolds upon Marigolds.  If I was venturing on a psychic journey this is surely the only possible starting point.

There’s always one:

“So, ya got a problem with the Muslims?”

“Err, no. Do you have a problem with dysfunctional white teenage heavy metal fans armed with assault rifles?”

We float gracefully out of the shop and don’t buy his overpriced ‘I ❤️Sedona’ organic unbleached T-shirt. An outrageously priced juice is bought but we don’t stop to enjoy it on the street as that is probably illegal. No auras are read even though I am itching and almost desperate for the experience, what on earth could they say? 

“Woah, yours looks like elk-guts and a Durango hangover.” Maybe next time.

A guy I stereotype as Maltese/Cypriot/Israeli with Michael Bolton hair hands us organic green tea samples and stares at my wife with a look that screams ‘I want cougar action.’ I usher her away in a display of calm Welsh manliness muttering “Oversexed Dago.” Ashly points out that this is the incorrect racially abusive term for a Maltese/Cypriot/Israeli chap, I try and think of a better one as we spend hundreds of dollars in the embarrassingly high-end supermarket. We are the epitome of the inequality in this great country, we pay-off our guilt with overpriced sourdough. The ‘official’ town busker sings one of my favourite songs – “That’s How I Got To Memphis” – and the fucker does it justice. The town vibraphone is played badly by a hippy lady who could really only be described as ‘Hot Milf,’  I drop my Milt Jackson/Gary Burton gag into one of the many vortexes that the town is proud of.

We still love Sedona. Ashly watches the stars whilst referring to her new Star App which has no idea which hemisphere we are in… the 25,000ft picture window doesn’t care.