Roadside JournalStopping for a
date milkshake
in Dateland
By Chuck Woodbury
“Dateline: Dateland.” I just wanted to say that. I am, in fact, in tiny Dateland, Ariz., which is between Yuma and Gila Bend — effectively putting it smack dab in the middle of absolutely nowhere of any importance. My campsite is poolside at the Oasis RV park, which, in fact, is a true Oasis, surrounded by nothin’ but nothin.’
I stopped a little early today — at about 4 p.m. — figuring I’d catch up on my writing. What actually brought me here was the regionally famous date milkshake at the Dateland Village Cafe, a spotlessly clean eatery as green as a leprechaun. On a Hamilton Beach blender, my thoroughly pleasant waitress concocted the best date milkshake I have every consumed in my entire lifetime.
In the little gift shop next to the Dateland Village Cafe, I invested $3.50 in my second scorpion paperweight. The ingenious device consists of a dead scorpion entombed in a clear, circular-shaped plastic case for eternity. It is so well-built and sturdy that I am certain it will be around long after I’m gone. In fact, I think that when I die, I, too, would like to be entombed in a clear, plastic paperweight. It would be large, I grant you that, but it would be heavy enough to hold down up to 100 copies of the Sunday Arizona Republic in virtually all situations except perhaps a Yuma dust storm.
The Dateland Village Cafe also sells Date Creme Pie, which I bet is really good, too. Dateland, by the way, got its name because a lot of dates are grown here. I bet you already figured that out.
Copyright 2000 by Out West Newspaper
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After graduation from ALEA (Arizona Law Enforcement Academy) my first assigned Duty Station was Dateland,AZ. Now as a young engaged Patrolman, who grew up in Tucson, AZ, I had no idea where this metropolis was located. I was told it was the best location for my career (thanks to Mike Stoffer, Class Supervisor). Well at first I begged to differ when I arrived, but in the long run, with hindsight being what it is, it all worked out for the best.
Remember I said I was a young engaged patrolman. The trip with the wife to be was quite long and uneventful as we traveled Interstate 10 and then onto Interstate 8. The views were just breath taking with miles and miles of sand and more sand of course. Driving the 160 miles from Tucson we finally got a glimpse of palm tress blowin in the hot July afternoon, is that it she asked? Well seeing the sign said Dateland one mile, my keen police training told me that this was where life begins.
We exited Interstate 8 and once at the bottom of the ramp, life's little challenges made it's way into the front seat. "There are no theaters, malls, clubs, hair salons." Well no kidding I said, I figured they would be going up any day now." I think you get the idea where this story is headed. The idling pink 55 Chevy, not mine, hers, was the only noise heard after my sarcasm, oh an the ugly eye of course. The blowing tumbleweeds were the selling point for her as they were the only thing moving in town. The comment went some thing like this, "there is no way in hell I will live in this God forsaken place." Well God made sure that Dateland was the best place to pony up to the bar for a world famous date shake, I was sold! Well in her mind that was not a selling point.
The last time I saw the princess, I was standing on the side of the road with my suitcase and Pioneer stereo waving good by as see rode off into the sunset in the pink 55 Chevrolet.
