Always Check the Camera

Then—holy crap!—we were shaking Cassius's hand.

Leaving Tucson's Desert Museum with my husband, we noticed a golf-cart procession headed for the entrance. Curious, we turned and watched. It was one of those "Is that...do you think...no...yes...oh, my God!" moments. Muhammad Ali was seated in the lead cart.

We tried, unsuccessfully, to hide our interest. Celebrities deserve to visit the cactus in peace, after all. But Ali's driver pulled over, and the great man got out. Then—holy crap!—we were shaking Cassius's hand. (Which was warm and spongy, by the way. Good grip.)

He mimed taking a picture, and my husband cozied up. I raised our 35-mm and...could not get the camera to work. Tried, tried, tried again. Finally, I pretended the picture was a huge success—complete with faux clicking noises.

Afterward, as my husband fantasized about enlarging and framing options, I had to break the news that this picture was not worth a thousand words. Or a hundred. Or even one. He felt compelled to share many choice words. (Note to self: Always check the camera.)