I guess they used up all the "Eraser" quotes over at Bergen Street?

It's not often that you run into "Total Recall"-themed graffiti but this was spotted recently in our neighborhood. A viral campaign to relaunch Schwarzenegger's movie career? Probably not, but any other explanation might be even stranger. Here at CHB, we're big fans of the ex-governor's filmwork: Conan, Predator, Commando (sorry, "Last Action Hero," but we have to draw the line somewhere). Here's to getting "King Conan" into production . . . but that is another story.

The Obsession Continues

Mrs. Burg sure does enjoy the sky. The one thing about Arizona is we forget about how far you can see, how long you can drive without seeing any other humans and how gorgeous sunsets over the desert really are. Here are a few of our favorites from the trip:

 The view of the sunset from the Hotel Valley Ho balcony.

 On the road to Mrs. Burg's home town.

In Phoenix, heading to Tuey's current HQ.

On the freeway again. You drive a lot in Arizona, A LOT.

New Age Fanclub

We forget sometimes when we go home how close we are to "supernatural" sights. Mrs. Burg's family resides just 15 minutes from Sedona, AZ. That's right, THE Sedona, AZ. Home of crystals, vortexes and a whole lot of annoying ex hippies and new agers. We don't entirely blame them, the place is pretty gorgeous, when you're not 16 and bored to death of rocks colored by rust.

There are a lot of ridiculously named tour buses and hotels filling up the town these days. Karen can remember a time when this road was only 2 lanes! Erik got to hear a lot about this. A few times he forgot he wasn't with someone's mom.

We swear this is a real photo taken with our camera . . . Karen just grew up in a place where a lot of calendars are made. Fun fact: Cathedral Rock, pictured above, is one of the most photographed natural sights in the world. (Apparently, Mrs. Burg is full of "fun" facts about every place she's lived. Awesome, right?)

 Another fun fact? We forget sometimes that we really like hiking.

I Blame the Vortex.

There are a LOT of people in Sedona with time on their hands. Many of whom demonstrate this mountain of leisure time by going to the Red Rock Crossing and making little stone piles. A lot of stone piles. All in an attempt to make us feel "mystical."

Or sad. Or annoyed. It's really your call.

Look at the dedication to their craft. Impressive, right? And you thought marijuana just made you sleepy and hungry . . .

The Lizard King over here is definitely impressed.  (And kind of adorable.)

Another popular game? Making "medicine wheels". Yeah, they've got a real little Stonehenge going on there. And, guess what? Not really a big fan of the real Stonehenge. But you know, they only have one six-screen movie theater within a 40 mile radius, so the kids get bored. And did we mention there might be some influence by the reefer?
Oh, hippie kids, with their stink, their bad music and their parents . . . their stupid, stupid parents.

I double dog dare you . . .

 . . . to put your hand in this tree stump!

No?
Hmmm... Alright. How about this one?

Not that one either? Wow. You're tough. Well, not that tough or you'd stick your hand in the tree stump.
How about this one?

Are you sure?
 
Yeah, Erik wouldn't do it either.

Chickens . . .

One Double Decker Taco . . . erm, I mean, one Cheesesteak to go.

On a recent trip to Arizona (more pictures to come later this week), we saw something oddly familiar, yet somehow different.  It looks like someone decided to lower their overhead by leaving a few odds and ends from the previous establishment. One can only hope they were going for a Liberty Bell vibe, or maybe they just assumed we were all too young to remember the "Run for the Border" campaign . . .

Hip hop. You might stop...?

These have been mean streets in Brooklyn as of late for boomboxes (or "ghetto blasters" if you're feeling politically incorrect). Recently, they've been discarded on trash day as if they never dubbed that extra copy of "Slippery When Wet" or "Appetite for Destruction" for a friend or copied that favorite song off the radio (maybe "The Heat is On" by Glenn Frey) five to seven seconds after it started.* Alas, boomboxes, we salute you. You will be missed.

* All references in this entry are derived from Erik's childhood; your experiences may differ