Phoenix

Phoenix (or Tempe or Mesa or Chandler or wherever the heck it was) is a strange place. “Look, this guy must be a Texan,” exclaimed my host, “Ostrich Jerky.” Now, I did spend several years in college in this area, so the next comment, a little later in the day, didn’t surprise me as much, I asked why my host was wearing long pants, “It’s cloudy out, it won’t get to hundred, that’s pretty cool.” How easy I forget what the dessert air is like. I’ve also started collecting various quotations from whatever the source, and Monday morning, I was heard to say, “That’s okay, you can uncurl your toes now.” Which was a comment that seemed to tickle my host. I think it was the sushi in Tempe that did it all. Flying back to Austin was rather anti–climatic.