The following column is the opinion and analysis of the writer:

Down at the Arroyo Cafe I shared a patio table and vaccination stories with Sour Frank and Lurlene. “I was blown away by the sight of all the volunteers at the UA’s pod. I asked an older volunteer why he was there. He said, ‘Like I told my grandkids, I served my country once, I’m happy to do it again.’ I was touched by his words. And his needle.”

Sour Frank wanted to needle Tucson Police Chief Chris Magnus’ good fortune. “Last time a Democrat poached an Arizonan Obama plucked Gov. Janet Napolitano to be his Homeland Security Chief. We got Jan Brewer in the Governor’s seat.”

Lurlene huffed, “The Sarah Palin in ski pants who gave us SB 1070.”

I groaned. “Reminded me of the time the Master Sergeant traded in his ‘too flashy’ Mustang for a Dodge Dart that blew smoke and swerved right.”

Lurlene grinned. “Did you notice our chief was nominated by Biden to be the head of the Customs and Border Protection the same week a volcano blew in the Caribbean? And Hawaii’s Mauna Loa began quaking? It’s no coincidence. Seismic shifts are afoot.”

Rosa, carafe in hand, agreed. “Border Patrol and ICE are long overdue for a tectonic shakeup.”

From inside his cafe kitchen, Carlos shouted, “Magnus is the vato for the job! He stood up to politicians when they pushed policies that were counter-productive to effective community policing. Like a saguaro, amigos.”

Sour Frank rolled his eyes over his mask. “Whatever, Carlos. Magnus may not survive the politics waiting for him in Washington.”

I mentioned he should prepare for the experience by running through Cholla forests naked or into Mountain Lion dens wearing jackrabbit skins orâ€Ļ

Frank interrupted. “And if he’s approved he’ll get to lead thousands of pro-Trump Customs and Border Protection agents hostile to any ‘progressive’ reforms.”

Lurlene laughed at Sour Frank’s grim forecast. “Magnus can handle it. Anyone who’s survived summers in Tucson has already survived all the roasting, scorching and blistering the world can dish out.”

Frank fretted that Magnus once carried a protest sign agreeing Black Americans are human beings whose lives matter.

Lurlene thought this would matter only to “Hannity, Tucker and the senators who never got word from Appomattox that Dixie was to be forgotten.” Confederacy of dunces she called them.

Carlos said, “Chief Magnus’ challenge is easy. Develop skin thicker than a javelina’s hide and keep Liberty’s lamp lit.”

“Speaking of Sean Millerâ€Ļ” said Lurlene.

Perplexed, I asked, “Who?” I took a sip. “Name’s familiar.”

“The former winning coach of the University of Arizona Wildcat men’s basketball team.”

“Basketball. That’s the round orange ball, right?”

Sour Frank said I could not possibly be a Tucsonan. He asked me what I knew about Lute and I said Miller earned too much loot. “Not that Lute!”

“Oh, you mean the stringed medieval instrument?”

Sour Frank said, “Fitz, you are a heretic.”

And this heretic said, “Miller would easily find a job, particularly with his gift for remaining completely unaware of what his assistant coaches and recruiters were up to at all times. In college sports that kind of delegation and trust is an essential skill.”

Lurlene nodded. “I hope he returns to the Tonight Show to juggle basketballs again, particularly now that he’s mastered the ability as a coach to also turn vermillion and pop a neck vein at will.”

It was a natural progression from neck veins popping to the Reid Park Zoo controversy. The Arroyo Cafe crew had answers:

“Eliminate the zoo. Sell the stock to slaughterhouses, illicit wildlife traders and Third World pharmacists who deal in testicles and horns.”

Thanks, Very Sour Frank.

“Declare Barnum Hill a World Heritage UNESCO site akin to the Great Barrier Reef, The Great Wall of China or Machu Picchu.”

That was sarcasm, Rosa, right?

“Expand Reid Park Zoo vertically?”

“Carlos isn’t taking this seriously.” I am. “Use the zoo bond monies to host ‘Transparency and Public Communications workshops’ for Zoo leadership.”

Rosa put down her carafe. “Expand ‘Pathways to Asia’ into the Dell Urich Golf Course. I already wrote the brochure: ‘The South Course offers a gently rolling terrain with Komodo dragons and Malaysian Tigers, providing an excellent challenge for golfers who enjoying fighting off wildlife with a nine iron.’ Coming in 2023. What do you think?”

As friends laughed hearing 2023 startled me. For a moment I wondered what year it was. “Yesterday I went for a hike on my favorite trail and saw hedgehogs blooming and I was disoriented by the sudden onset of spring so soon. Between springs there was a winter of endless empty days without festivals or holidays to mark the season.”

Sour Frank smiled, dropped his mask and lifted his cup of Rosa’s finest. “Fitz, here’s to the Spring of 2021. And better days ahead.”

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David Fitzsimmons:

tooner@tucson.com.