Junto Boys

PHOENIX

I was there once as a kid. Trish has two college friends that live there now. One is married. The other was married this past weekend. We went. She left early in the week and I went late Thursday on Southwest with a stop in St. Louis. We were supposed to stay on the plane and pick up more passengers. They made us exit our week-old plane for a non-specific reason and another plane flying in from Omaha took us to Phoenix. The first plane smelled a lot newer.

Although we were sent to another plane, we kept the stewardesses. They were funny. When we landed near 11pm, the PA stewardess said that if we were connecting to another flight that we should fire our travel agent. The pilot kept giving us updates from game 6 between the Lakers and Suns. During the flight I read this book about a guy who runs super marathons. He once ran a relay race where he was all ten teams. It was 150 miles long. He consumed 27,000 calories during the run. His wife puts up with it.

Phoenix has grown since I was a kid. They have things like Borders bookstores these days. After I won some money playing poker at the Indian Casino in Scottsdale (see The Nuts), I almost bought Barry Greenstein’s book, but then I remembered that it was nearly $10 cheaper online. Waste not, want not. I read a little about Barry while Trish bought a new dress for the wedding. The one she brought was too light for a windy day on top of a mountain. Barry said some things I have never heard a poker player talk about, good common sense things. The one that sticks out most is that poor poker players aren’t necessarily stupid, the ones playing the bigger stakes were smart enough to make their money some other way but they just aren’t poker savvy. I don’t know how that is supposed to help me win, but it made me want to buy the book anyway.

The rehearsal dinner was at a local Italian pizza joint and the food was very authentic. We sat next to a groomsman from Milwaukee. We had the same question for the waitress, what is Italian Beef? She didn’t know either. It was put on the menu especially for the rehearsal dinner. She left for the kitchen and returned to tell us that it was beef with Italian seasoning. I still wasn’t sure what that meant, but ordered it anyway. Turns out that Italian beef on this particular night was filet Mignon with squash and asparagus. Those who ordered the spaghetti marinara missed out. The groomsman from Milwaukee said he had to give the best man speech or that all the groomsmen were teaming up to do so. He didn’t know what to say and asked advice. I told him to start off with a funny story about his friendship with Bill and then end with something more heartwarming. We joked about it for a while although he took the advice the next night. I wish I remembered what he said.

After dinner we went to this old restaurant for martinis. It reminded me of Chasen’s of Hollywood that I saw in the documentary THE LAST DAYS OF CHASENS. You entered from the back through the kitchen like in Goodfellas or Swingers. The kitchen staff was welcoming albeit busy. Empty tables everywhere but we couldn’t sit. In fact, they were a little peeved that we just came to drink. They made us give up our barstools to dinner guests.

I woke up at 6am the day of the wedding. My body clock screamed 9am. I got a paper and checked out the American League East Standings and Real Estate. Homes are priced at about the same rate as Orlando. Trish and I drove to Taliesin West, the winter home of Frank Lloyd Wright during his last 20 years. The property began as a camp and his apprentices built the entire compound from Wright’s plans. Apprentices still today live on the property and graduate with an accredited degree in architecture. They live in tents their first year as they construct their own dorm rooms. We could have toured their houses, but instead chose to see the Wright private quarters.

After our 90 minutes of Wright, we met Tricia’s cousin Amy, her husband and two boys for lunch. The 4-year old Caden had already been to tee-ball and swim lessons that morning. The year old Jase had already thrown up all over the kitchen. They were good people and the boys were spirited and sweet. Caden did not want any part of chips and salsa and he didn’t like the menu choices. The kid needed a hot dog. I was a hero for pointing out the grilled cheese on another part of the menu remembering that I lived off of them as a kid. The light-eating Caden ate half of it. His mother told us he weighs 27 pounds. Brother Jase, a week from his first birthday weighs 17 pounds and all 17 of those pounds were pounding the rice they ordered for him. He would ball it up in his hands and put one in his mouth and the other on the floor. What our dog would have given to spend one supper at their house. After lunch and that aforementioned shopping trip, I needed a nap before the ceremony.

The wedding was at the Hilton on a Hilltop. The chosen spot looked straight through the valley and onto Downtown with the mountains sitting gladly behind like they were built by a Hollywood set director to finish the picture. It was windy. It was hot. The ceremony was short and very American. The Anglo groom marrying the Asian bride with a black minister, a mariachi band playing background and Navaho poem read for good measure. E Pluribus Unum. I should say that Trish was also a reader on this day and although she hates speaking in public, she gave it real heart.

A great many of the guests were lawyers and one guy told me flat out that Bush should be impeached for the wiretapping business.

What about Lincoln suspending the writ of habeas corpus or FDR interning the Japanese? Our lawyer said that history has concluded that they were both wrong. Ah, but wouldn’t Congress have been equally wrong to impeach either of them considering their importance to history? But Bush isn’t important to history says my lawyer. Iraq was a mistake and Clinton or Gore would have invaded Afghanistan after 9-11.

How can you be so sure, I say? We were attacked 4 times during Clinton’s presidency and he did little in the way of response. Even so, Bush lied about why we were going into Iraq, said my lawyer. I remember he said that Saddam was a bad man and was terrible to his people. That’s not enough of a reason to invade a country he replied. Then why did we send troops to Haiti and Bosnia?

Bush lied about the weapons of Mass Destruction, the lawyer tells me. Do you mean the sarin gas they found that would kill 500,000 people or the British intelligence report that they were trying to buy Yellow Cake in Africa? Saddam Hussein had nothing to do with 9-11 says the lawyer. Like Hilter had nothing to do with Pearl Harbor says me.

Bush should have gotten permission from a judge to tap people’s phones, he continues. I ask what makes an unelected judge so special. It’s the checks and balances system in the constitution, he says. But I ask why a judge is the last word. Why not the equally un-elected CIA official?

He says that judges stand up for the constitution. Like they stood up for the first amendment when the Campaign Finance Laws were passed, I enquire. Ruling on constitutional points is their job according to the constitution, he tells me. According to the constitution or according to John Marshall, I ask. Well thank god for Marshall, he says. Or otherwise we’d need fewer lawyers, I quip.

Take this gay marriage proposal, he continues. It’s unconstitutional to not allow gay marriage.

What about polygamy then? Is that unconstitutional?

Well that’s a different case, he says. You can’t have guys marrying their sisters. Or is that something else?

It’s when you have more than one wife, I say.

Well, I’m not sure about that, but I’m sure gay marriage is constitutional because you can’t legislate morality, he concludes.

Whose morality? The war on poverty or giving free prescription drugs to old people and ultimately universal health care is a morality question that doesn’t bother the Left. And both sides of the capital punishment debate cite morality as well. Without morality, which laws would be left standing?

It went on like this for a while as a mental exercise simply to see how well I could debate a member of the bar. It was good fun and he seemed like a decent guy, although I think it took enough out of the both of us.

Trish and I made our way outside after sunset and the cool breeze and night sky were glorious. The mountains beyond downtown had mostly disappeared but the lights gave the valley a whole new look. I noticed that mountain to our East had a few houses lit up. A local told us that you weren’t really allowed to build on those mountains anymore, but a few people were grandfathered in. It looked like a nice view and a pain-in-the-ass commute. Oh, don’t worry she said. I don’t think anyone that lives up there has to work.

A bridesmaid’s husband said that he interned for Senator Kyl years back though he didn’t share his politics. He did admire Kyl for being an honest and direct man. The guy was worth a good deal of money and still drove a 1989 Chevy suburban that must have been leaking gas. He hated riding with Kyl because the gas smell bothered him. He would complain to John about buying a new car, but Kyl said he liked the way the Suburban rode.

I asked if he had ever met Barry Goldwater and he said that Goldwater spoke to his 6th grade class. He personally asked Goldwater if he would ever run for President again and Goldwater said no. He said that Goldwater lived along Camelback road and pointed in the general direction. He said McCain’s house was in the dark patch between us and downtown. He was invited there once for some event maybe it related to his work for Senator Kyl. Kyl, everyone thought, lived in or near Tucson.

Why did a city such a Phoenix grow up in the middle of the desert, I asked someone that night. I was the told the Salt River was probably the reason. I never got to see the river. It’s thought that Phoenix is now the 5th largest city in America having surpassed Philadelphia since the last census, though the metropolitan area alone is outside the top ten. This is especially interesting since Phoenix is a post Civil War phenomenon, the city is not even 150 years old.

I could have sat out on that balcony in the cool breeze and looked at the Phoenix valley all night long, alone or in conversation. The desert sometimes seems desolate and lonely, but I know what Glenn Fry meant by the Peaceful Easy Feeling. At night and with the lights down below it isn’t so bad.

A cheer to Patty and Bill and the memory of a short jaunt to Phoenix.