Back in Tucson
You can’t go home again, I reckon. But when your home is a place you really just love, for all of its changes or lack thereof, I think you have a pretty special place. I keep waiting to go back to Southern Arizona and find the magic has left, that I really have no place here anymore. But it never happens. The sunset looks just as beautiful. The bars are just as welcoming. The desert trails are just as calming. Familiar faces smile. And I can still sleep on Swede’s couch.
Zack looks like Rasputin and juggles professionally (I typed that wrong at first and it looked like jiggles). Cory hangs out with ambassadors in Vienna. Tim is some sort of lawyer-engineer hybrid. Swede is out of papers and making an album. All changes aside, we can still inhabit the same small dirty apartment at pushing-or-pushed-30 and sing folk songs drunk until 4 in the morning.
It was great to see Matt again. It had been very long. I was jealous of his Marvel Zombies hoodie, and the fact that he and Evin have purchased rights to “suricountdownto18.com,” because they are the entrepreneurial type. Jamie and I stayed in Matt’s room the first night in town, and were amused by the contents: a mattress, a pack of Newports, two cups of Easy Mac, and a Mountain Dew.
While Zack, Jessica and Labn practiced their juggling routine for the wedding, and Swede and Cory planned the reception music, Jamie and I dashed to the Tucson mountains for a stroll through the Saguaro.
In-between these trips to Gates Pass, there was a lot of bargoing for Cory’s bachelor party. It ended up less a bachelor party, and more of a catching-up, two-day bar crawl/restaurant tour. So that was pretty much great. In fact, when our flight landed at TIA at around 11:30, we were greeted not with a sleepy driver and muted air mattress plans, but a bottle of Scotch and a trip to Che’s Lounge.
But then we made it back to the Tucsons, this time so Tim could see one of those awe-inspiring sunsets that knock the aging cynic right out of anyone.