A farmer’s market without the farmers, or market

Note: This column appears in the 9/23 issue of The Glendale Star and the 9/24 issue of the Peoria Times

We are vegetarians, my wife and I, and so when we go hunting we typically hunt for farmer’s markets.

This was our intention two Saturdays ago, our hunt very defined in that Westgate was having a farmer’s market that day. Having found out about this event weeks earlier, our anticipation had increased our excitement, as did the fact that it was a beautiful Saturday morning, the chance to finally venture outside of the house -– to get fresh vegetables, no less! -– signifying the beginning of the end of another endless summer.

It didn’t even matter that Westgate is approximately 40 minutes from our house. Not that helping the environment and local farmers is our sole reason for attending farmer’s markets –- we actually enjoy eating the vegetables of our labor, too –- but the irony of burning lots of gas in order to purchase organic fruits and veggies was not lost on us. But hey, whatever.

Adding to our enjoyment was the opportunity to get our one-year old out of the house and out and about. At the moment of departure, she didn’t seem to be sharing in this enjoyment, but we knew that when we finally got there, she would be enamored by all of the beautiful colors of various peppers and, ummm, melons (?) and the general hustle and bustle of an open market.

When we arrived at Westgate we noticed no signs directing us to the farmer’s market, but this was of no concern, as we had attended one there last year, which also occurred with little fanfare. Besides, we knew we had the date and times correct because I had personally uploaded the details of this event to our own publication’s website, at Westgate’s request, and my wife had even checked their website for confirmation.

Well, there was no farmer’s market. Nor were there any signs or people with any kind of information as to why. For about 20 minutes we walked around with our little one in her stroller, trying to find vegetables, as the pleasant weather turned hotter and less pleasant. We ran into a couple that was similarly confused as to the market’s whereabouts. Having failed to find fresh veggies, they decided to do the next best thing – go to the movies. Had this been Westgate’s plan all along -– to lure people there with the promise of vegetables, only to have them settle into retail purchases and viewings of Piranha 3D? I looked at our daughter and was reminded of a time when going to the movies would have been a feasible alternative for us. Sigh.


Reenactment of our expectations

We didn’t give up though. We had heard that Park West has farmer’s markets too, so we drove there, only to discover that we were one week early. My wife thought she knew of another one somewhere else, but that also turned up empty. In the back seat, our increasingly hungry daughter was giving us an earful. Defeated, we made our way home, vegetable-less, with a ¼ tank of gas burned in the process.

So a big, sarcastic “thank you” to Westgate, for wasting our Saturday with no explanation. I never thought the farmers would leave before the Coyotes.

And yeah –- that’s the kind of zinger you get. I’m not a nice person when I haven’t had my squash.

The scorpion: Because then everyone would want to live here

Note: This column appears in the 7/16 issue of The Glendale Star and the 7/17 issue of the Peoria Times

When we informed our family over two years ago that we were moving to Arizona, the reaction was predictably mixed. They were happy for us, but sad to see us go. It was my uncle however, that had some practical advice: Watch out for scorpions.

This advice has proven to be invaluable, especially considering that every single person we initially asked about scorpions upon moving here reacted indifferently. I have come to believe that this is a vast conspiracy, and that every person who lives in Arizona privately acknowledges not to make a big deal out of scorpions when newcomers ask. The state brochure should read, “Arizona: What scorpions?”

I cannot tell you how bonkers it drives me when people do not react with the proper indignation when it comes to this subject. Arizona is home to the bark scorpion, which Wikipedia -- my source for all social, spiritual and scorpion-related information -- describes as being the only species “capable of causing lethal reactions in humans.” Hey, no big deal! It’s just death…what are you gonna do, ya’ know?

When we came across our first scorpion –- a bark scorpion, in our closet, thank you very much –- a few weeks after moving here, my wife and I reacted as if we were both on fire, and I eventually ended up smashing the thing with my flip-flop until the particles of the scorpion were no longer distinguishable to the human eye. There have been other encounters, several of which have resulted in me leaving panicked voice mail messages for our “bug guy” at midnight on a Saturday.

Can we blame this on the economy? Actually, yes. Due to the real estate crisis and foreclosures resulting in vacant houses that aren’t treated, we have seen more scorpions this summer than ever. All bark scorpions of course. Feeling frustrated, defeated, and more concerned now with two foster kids and a small dog at home, we decided to take matters into our own hands, vigilante-style.

My wife and I became vegetarian hunters.

Scorpion hunters.

Based on the recommendation of a friend with similar concerns, we took drastic action. I purchased a black light online (blacklight.com). It’s called – no joke – The Arachnid. Now, before we go to bed at night, we take The Arachnid, a pair of pliers, a glass mug, and whatever courage we can muster outside and we hunt scorpions.

First of all, you cannot believe how The Arachnid illuminates a scorpion. Totally exposes it in florescent green. Then I grab it with the pliers, ideally crushing its insides, and drop it into the mug which it cannot climb out of (because they cannot climb glass, and because I just cut it in half). Then we transfer it to a closed container and leave it there to die and think about the harm it has caused by being a scorpion.

(It should also be mentioned that the black light illuminates other things as well, most notably paint stains. Because we have several paint stains on the rocks outside, and on the carpet in our bedroom, I have almost had about twenty heart attacks as a result of shining the light on one of these stains and thinking a gargantuan and impenetrable-by-pliers scorpion has taken over our property. The same stains do this to me every night. Also, because we do this right before bed, I have had nothing but scorpion-related dreams for the past two weeks. The other night I dreamt I had a scorpion dentist. Needless to say, this entire endeavor has been an exhausting assault on my senses.)

We caught six scorpions in the first five nights, including a baby that I showed no mercy to. And that six isn't counting the two that got away (into our neighbors yard...sorry, buddy!) I think the fugitives have spread the word to the others, as activity has slowed. But we remain vigilant.

Eventually we would like to attach The Arachnid to a hardhat and wear Dickies suits and goggles and film a realty show. If anyone important is reading this, call us.

Oh, and if any of our family is reading this, come visit us! It’s awesome here! What…scorpions? Pffttt. They’re no big deal.


When we put the black light on these guys, they hissed and ran away.