Page Navarro

The holidays are upon us and it can be a very joyful time of year. Some of us have problems during the holidays and sometimes are overcome with great sadness when we remember the loved ones who are not with us. And, many people have no one to spend these times with and are besieged by loneliness. We all need caring thoughts and loving prayer right now. If I don't see your name, I'll understand. May I ask my friends wherever you might be, to kindly copy, paste, and share this status for one hour to give a moment of support to all those who have family problems, health struggles, job issues, worries of any kind and just need to know that someone cares. Do it for all of us, for nobody is immune. I hope to see this on the walls of all my friends just for moral support. I know some will!! I did it for a friend and you can too. (You have to copy & paste this one, no sharing.)

The above statement was posted by my friend, Page Navarro. Page is a truly remarkable man and a Las Vegas anomaly. I have lived in Vegas (off and on) for a little over twenty years. I consider Las Vegas my hometown. I raised my daughter here and this is where my family lives. Las Vegas can be a very difficult town to live in. A half a million visitors breeze through my hometown without ever giving a second thought to the massive suburbia in which we all reside, just blocks from the hotels that reach into the desert sky. The twenty-four hour legality of vice settles into our valley and never sleeps. Most of us "locals" have learned to live with these vices and view them as the privileges they are, ignoring their beckoning and going about the business of life. There are, of course, the few that come to Vegas with big dreams and bigger ghosts. These are the few that flock to the twenty-four hour slot bars and take a chance with their pay, as the liquor flows freely and once inflexible  inhibitions are vanquished. Their dreams become nightmares. Nightmares they pass on to the wives and husbands who frequent our community with such anger, sadness and despair, they pass it on to the folks who work at the grocery store, who pass it on to their customers, who pass it on to their kids, who pass it on to their friends, and so on, and so on, and so on. Thus making Vegas a sometimes difficult place to live. It has been a hard town to make and retain friends in. 

And then, there is Page Navarro. Page has lived in Las Vegas all his life. He will be thirty-two next month. I actually met Page at one of the aforementioned local watering holes while shooting pool. I had played Nine Ball about twenty years prior but could not remember the rules. Page voluntarily walked me through each move, step by step. I remember thinking, "Wow, what a nice guy. A really nice guy!"

Not really having any friends, as I mentioned, I would go to the bar attempting to re-socialize myself after my divorce, and sit by alone, which by the way only exacerbated my uneasiness. Page would often sit next to me and just chit chat. On one occasion, we were sharing a basket of home made potato chips when a cockroach decided to join us for dinner. Allow me to digress, most people I know and have experienced in this town would throw the biggest fit you ever saw. Page simply reached for an empty ashtray, turned it upside down and placed it on top of the insect. We sat there laughing our asses off as we watched the poor creature try to figure out how to escape. Subsequently, the roach conquered it's prison and the great escape was made. Page handled the situation like a true soul soldier.

As time went by, Page and I became friends. As I got to know him , I found this incredible Las Vegas anomaly. I once commented to Page how mush I prefer dogs to people. I said something to the effect, "Wouldn't you just rather be with animals?" Now, let me just say that Page is a monumental lover of animals. When I went to his house I was greeted at the door by a plethora of pups, and a very cool cat, and as I was complaining about the human race, he was telling me the story of his best friend's African Grey, who had fled his current owner and was probably flying over Vail Colorado as we spoke. Page's answer to me was, "No. I'd rather be with my mom, then my brother...", etcetra. 

Page is also a musician. He plays and writes music and is in a local band. Being the writer I am, I am a firm believer that any creative expression is a contribution to society. The thing that fascinated me most, however, about Page's house was his record player. For those of you raised on little plastic compact disks, a record player is used to spin vinyl. In my moment of utter shock and in between my exclamations of Page's absolute "coolness", we discussed how beautiful music is when pumped through a speaker via turn table, you know, that rich depth that you FEEL when you hear it. This is by far the coolest thirty-something I had ever met.

The most wonderful thing about my friend Page Navarro, however, and the reason I have told this story today is the post he put on his FaceBook page. The one I began this blog with. You see, in this crazy, mixed up, muddled up world we call home, there are the few, the very few who calm us and settle us and make us feel at home in a dusty old valley in the middle of the Mojave Desert.

And God bless 'em...