WILD HORSES COULDN'T DRAG ME AWAY

My brother's never been to Arizona. So when I tell him about our monsoons, our dry heat (and dry cold), our dust, he doesn't have a clear picture. When I told him earlier this week that the inside of our house gets dirty even when we're not home for a week or so, he asked me if sand blew into our house.

So I don't know what he'll think when I tell him that we have wild horses running around maybe two to three miles from where we live. About twenty-five or so have been enjoying the grass that our recent rains, and yes, monsoons have brought the valley.

They feast and huddle together under trees for afternoon shade. They range in color from the buckskin with brown tail to the solid brown ones. They are so beautiful to look at as I drive the 101-North. I know other drivers are doing the same, so safety becomes an issue. But no one has ever said safety and the 101 go together. Earlier this week a guy clocked at 147 mph there was in court. How do you plead? "Stupid, I guess."

Maybe I should have mailed my brother Jack a copy of the teepee hotel in eastern Arizona. They're make out of concrete, but have about 15 individual ones available.

It still probably wouldn't get him out here. Now if they ever auctioned Henderson motorcycles at the Barrett Jackson Car Show, then I'd have a chance.