Metametaphor

On Sunday, the six of us trekked up to Sedona and Jerome (and hit the aforementioned Montezuma's Castle on the way). I'd been to Jerome before, but this was my first time seeing the natural wonders of the red cliffs of Sedona. Natural wonders which are juxtaposed, incidentally, with Starbucks chains and pastel colored houses. It's almost as if someone paved paradise and put up a lot of crappy retail stores. Someone should write a song about that. And then someone else should cover it 30 years later. And then they should play it sans irony at malls in Scottsdale. Make it so.

(Incidentally, calling large, egg-shaped pastel houses "tacky" is a big no-no with certain peoples. They apparently prefer the less value-laden terms "gaudy" or "bright." Um, yeah. My apologies to the homeowner of the bright pastel egg-shaped abode in Sedona. Your sophistication of taste is only surpassed by your house's iridescence).

My mom came up with the line of the week - upon pulling into Sedona and seeing the, yes, tacky shopping marts against the backdrop of Geology's Greatest Hits, she said,

"It's like a mixed metaphor."

Now, all the silly 10th grade confusion about similes and metaphors aside, this is the first time I've ever heard about a metaphor used as a metaphor. A metametaphor, and now you get the post title. Absolutely brilliant. It also highlights the fact that mixed metaphors are bad and confusing, as is the internal sense of unease you get when gazing upon man's audacity in Sedona. Vortexes be damned, it would've been nice if the nice folks behind this little tourist trap had just let things be. Somewhere, an oppressed indigenous person grunts in agreement.

Enough chatter. Pics of Sedona, already!

You'll notice that I stuck to the nature and not to the horror of the town below. We also hit up a cool, FLW-student designed chapel and not only got some good shots:

But we were also talked to by signs, which is always surreal:

The chapel itself was cool and serene; the gift store below? Let's just say it was "bright."

We drove on from our car tour of Sedona to good ol' Jerome, where we quickly pulled into the parking lot and headed for Belgian Jennie's Bordello Bistro. Fantastic Italian place - despite just having eaten our weight in pasta the previous night, we got pizzas for our main meal of the day in Jerome. Say it with me: sooooo good. I had a Belgian beer with my afternoon supper, and it completely hit the spot.

We headed to Nelly Bly's so our ophthalmologist in tow could play with the kaleidoscopes. Beck met the lady who so nicely replaced the solar-powered kaleidoscope we had gotten for Scott at Christmas, and she also learned about a volunteer vet program up there that she may help out. Sweet! We also hit the pottery stores, some art shops, and generally breathed in the touristy scene. I've already photo-documented Jerome, so i don't want to post a bunch of pics again, but trust that it's still beautiful and quaint and a good spot to hit up if you're ever in need of a day trip in the Phoenix area.

We headed out through the mountains just in time to beat the sunset; Scott captured this nice pic at a stop spot:

Got back home about an hour and a half later and, still stuffed with scrumptious pizza, opted to skip dinner and just have some wine / cookies / ice cream as dessert. Very fun day with a lot of driving and great sights. Great way to spend a Sunday.

After-word: Since no one has even guessed at it, here's the answer to the "910" question: John Lennon sings "Danny Boy" at the end of the Let it Be recording of the the song "One After 909." So there you have it.

Also, so Karen feels special, here's the link to her Fail Dogs. Seek out the one involving a dog, a frisbee, and a tree; it's a classic.