Saturday, March 4, 2017

Gem Show


      The last couple of years, we have made a spring trip to Arizona.  We had a good reason—baseball spring training. 
     This year, we missed spring training.  Instead, we went to the gem show.  Rather than the Phoenix-Scottsdale area, we went to Tucson. 
    I’m not sure how it all began, but I think it was Aunt Jeri’s visit to Colorado last summer.  She must have let it slip that Tucson was a hotbed for gemmary come the end of January and the beginning of February.  Nothing for it, but we must go.
     Go we did.  Well, why not?  What’s going down in Colorado the last week of January?  Mostly the temperature.  Tucson offered some warmer weather.  It made good on the offer, the temperature being in the mid-seventies during our stay.  By contrast, when we stepped off the plane in Denver upon our return, we immediately saw our exhaled breath.  The mercury said 27 degrees.
     The gem show apparently runs for two weeks.  Two hours was a plenty for me.  The girls made two days of it.  One of Jeri’s friends had a sales tax license, which entitled her and her guests to attend the wholesale venue for dealers, jewelers, and such.  They spent five hours there and came home exhausted.
      The wholesalers dealt in bulk.  You couldn’t just buy one rock or one pearl or whatever.  You had to take stuff in bigger lots, like going to Sam’s Club instead of Safeway.  Bob and I had a leisurely lunch at a favorite local pub.  Two other “gem-widowers” dined with us.  We were quite content with our lot in life, especially when we got the blow-by-blow account of the day in the wholesale mart.
     The following morning found us taking a jaunt into the desert.  We had only to walk out of the R-V Park and we were in the desert.




     
      We were about a week ahead of the spring green up.  It had rained quite a lot two weeks before we got there, but the greenery that sometimes covers the desert floor was only just beginning to emerge.  Some things were beginning to bloom.


      It was a pleasant walk.  To appreciate it, all you had to do was think about what it would be like taking a walk back in Colorado.
     I had put it off as long as I could.  Attending the gem show was something I had to do so I could say I had done it.  We loaded up and headed downtown.  Our goal was a sports stadium, maybe a former home of some cactus league spring training facility. 
     The gem show was set up in the parking lot.  There were huge tents and smaller tents.  There were row after row of pop up type sunshades protecting vendors of all kinds.

  
     I saw all kinds of rocks.  I saw rocks I never knew even existed.  There were also jewelers hawking their handiwork.


     Among the vendors, there was one guy running a forklift.  Some of the rocks were that big, crystal geodes and the like, that it would take a forklift to move them.   One vendor told us, when we asked, that many of the geodes were from foreign countries and were quite expensive to ship.  If the thing doesn’t sell, they rent storage and keep it in Tucson until next year.
     Another fellow had a golf cart for hire.  He would take you and your merchandise to the parking lot.   The real shoppers had wheeled luggage like you see in the airport to  carry their loot.    
      We were there for two to three hours.  We barely scratched the surface of what there was to see.  There were seventeen or eighteen similar venues all around Tucson.  I visited one of them.
     Jeri summed it up best.  She said, “Well, I can cross that one off my bucket list—even if it never was on my bucket list in the first place.”  Ditto.

      Perhaps the real gem came when we got home.  It was cold, drizzly-icy.  We rode the shuttle to the parking lot on the west side of Tower Road.  I started scraping ice off the car windows.  The Goodwife said I’d better let her do it since she had on her winter coat and I only had on two light jackets. 
     We were four or five miles down the road when she said, “Darn!  I lost an earring.”  She wanted to go right back to the parking lot to look for it.  I said we wouldn’t even be able to find where we parked the car.  
      She called the parking lot, the phone number on our parking receipt.  Together, we figured out the bus we had ridden on.  The bus driver remembered us and where we parked.  Another employee went to the spot—and found the earring.
    By then, we were eight or ten miles down the road, but we turned around and went back, and sure enough, there was the missing earring. 

  

No comments:

Post a Comment